Union of the Snake

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39476529.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Additional Tags: First Kiss, Female Harry Potter, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending,
Established Relationship, Relationship of Convenience, Possessive
Behavior, Slow Build, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Pride, BAMF
Harry Potter, Protective Slytherins, Eventual Smut, Alternate Universe -
Canon Divergence, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Protective
Lucius Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa
Black Malfoy, Protective Sirius Black, Possessive Voldemort (Harry
Potter), Obsessive Voldemort (Harry Potter), Threats of Rape/Non-Con,
Implied/Referenced Torture, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Minor Bellatrix
Black Lestrange/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, One-Sided Attraction, Minor
Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of A Song of Heroes and Serpents
Collections: AnujenFavStories6
Stats: Published: 2022-06-06 Completed: 2024-11-26 Words: 184,253
Chapters: 75/75
 Union of the Snake
by ARoseInDecember

Summary

Harry was never sorted into Gryffindor and instead ended up in Slytherin. Without Ron and
Hermione around her, she reconsiders Draco's offer of friendship. What begins as a
relationship of convenience becomes the rise of Slytherin's power couple.
 The Deal

“Slytherin!”

For the first time in Harry Potter’s life, she felt like had disappointed everyone. The silence
of the Great Hall was telling. It was as if nobody could believe for a second, including
herself, that the Girl Who Lived had been sorted into Slytherin. Not even Slytherin.
McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat with a dumbfounded look on her face and gestured for
Harry to move to the Slytherin table where the students were looking at her in amazement.
With a final look to Ron, she reluctantly moved off the stool and walked silently over to the
table. Harry wanted to cry. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ she thought as she came over to the
table. Ron had made it very clear when Draco Malfoy had been sorted that Slytherins were a
bad sort. ‘Was Uncle Vernon right, am I bad?’ She took a seat at the very edge of the table
and closed her eyes, willing everyone to look away from her.

A hand settled over her shoulder suddenly and she looked up to find an older student, a
prefect by the looks of things, sitting beside her. She had beautiful olive skin and braided
black hair that fell right past her shoulders, but she never looked down at Harry once.

“Don’t let them see you cry,” she whispered down to her.

As she swallowed thickly and did as the girl told her, Harry wondered if perhaps Ron was
wrong and not all Slytherins were bad. She had to believe that. Otherwise, didn’t that make
her a bad person too?

The pair watched stoically until everyone was seated and Dumbledore rose to his feet. “Let
the feast begin!” he clapped his hands and instantly the tables were covered with food of all
kinds.

“My name’s Cressida by the way,” the older girl muttered as she helped herself to potatoes.

“I’m-” Harry paused. “Well, I’m Harriet.”

“Do you prefer Harriet or Hattie?”

“I’m a Harry.”

Cressida smiled, “Well then, Harry, welcome to Slytherin.”

Harry smiled nervously and allowed Cressida to fill her plate for her before casting a look
down the table. She saw many of her fellow Slytherins watching her, including Draco. She
swallowed thickly and returned to her food.

“Everyone’s watching me.”

Cressida glanced down the table and shot them a pointed look till they turned their attentions
back to their dinners. “It’s to be expected. No one thought you’d be in Slytherin.”
Harry slumped in her seat. “Oh. Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. We’ve just got a bit of a bad reputation.”

Glancing over at the Gryffindor table to the line of red heads, she muttered, “Ron said all the
wizards who went bad were from Slytherin. Is that true?”

Cressida sighed, “Yes, but I know we can make some decent wizards as well. You’ll see.”
She winked at her and popped a piece of carrot into her mouth.

Harry wasn’t entirely convinced and looked down the table again to find Draco grinning at
her. She adjusted her glasses nervously and hoped he wouldn’t make her life hell after that
rejection earlier. She could tell he was the kind to hold grudges.

-----

The Slytherin dormitories were based down in the dungeons behind a stone door that the
prefects led the First Years to. Harry listened carefully as the prefect announced the password
and told them all to remember it, and that it changed every fortnight. They all shuffled
through the door until they came into the common room. The common room was a long,
underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, green lamps hung
down from by chains. A fire crackled under an elaborately carved mantlepiece painted black,
casting shadows around the leather sofas and carved chairs dotted around the room. There
was a large wooden table with a chess set laid out ready for a match, and tapestries hung
depicting Medieval scenes of wizards and witches. Harry had never seen a room like this, so
adorned and elaborate.

“Boys, your rooms are on the left. Girls, the same on your right. You’ll find all of your
belongings have already been delivered,” Cressida announced. She shot Harry a friendly
wink before heading towards the dormitories.

Harry stood in the middle of the common room and felt so alone. She wishes she’d been
sorted in Gryffindor, at least then she’d know the Weasley’s who’d keep an eye on her. Now
she only had Cressida, and the piercing stare of a Malfoy.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” she sighed.

“I was just wondering if you were rethinking my offer.”

Harry frowned, “Your offer?”

“Friendship. Protection. Side with me and I’ll make sure nobody gives you any trouble. I’ll
give you to the end of the week to make your decision,” he said smugly before walking
towards the boys’ dormitories.

Harry watched him leave in a daze. ‘This isn’t what I imagined at all,’ she thought sadly as
she headed to her room.

-----
Harry wasn’t sure what Snape’s problem was, but she knew she didn’t like him. It was only
made worse when Millicent mentioned that he was their head of house. She tried her best to
ignore Draco’s smug smile from across the room as Snape sneered at her, calling her a
‘celebrity’ as if she had ever had any choice on that. His words stung deep and she wished
she had someone who’d tell him to back off. It was just like being back with the Dursley’s
except this time there was no cupboard under the stairs for her to hide under. Instead she
found herself sniffling in a small alcove, hidden from the others, as she pressed herself tightly
against a paned window.

“You must be very good at playing hide and seek,” a voice called from behind her.

Wiping her eyes furiously, she turned to see Draco standing above her. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” he said and sat down beside her.

Harry cleaned her glasses free of tears and condensation before sliding them up her nose
again. “Does my friendship mean that much around here?”

Draco shrugged. “I’d say it is.”

“Then why does barely anyone talk to me?”

“Because they don’t know how to talk to you, and you’re too shy to talk first.”

Harry huffed, “It’s not like I’m used to this.”

“To being a celebrity?”

“No…making friends,” she replied softly.

Draco sat there in silence for a moment, considering the crying girl before him. “I’m
changing my deadline.”

“What?”

“Right now. I want you to tell me if you’ll be with me or not.”

Harry frowned, her eyebrows lost beneath the mass that was her unruly black hair. “What do
you mean by ‘be with’ you?”

Shuffling uncomfortably, Draco muttered, “Be my girlfriend.”

“How did we go from friends to girlfriend?”

“I didn’t realise the situation quick enough. You were raised by Muggles, right? No wonder
you don’t understand your position. You’ll need someone who can help you understand the
Wizarding world and gain popularity within the school. I can help you there.”

“By being my boyfriend?”

“Think of it more as a relationship of convenience. Quid pro quo. We both get something out
of it,” he sniffed.

“What do you get out of it?”

“Notoriety for dating the Girl Who Lived. Now, do we have a deal or what?” he snapped.

Harry considered the last few days. How quickly everything had happened from Hagrid
taking her away from the Dursley’s to the Sorting Hat to being a social pariah. She only knew
that word because Aunt Petunia had used it once, but she felt Draco would appreciate it. It
was true though, she needed someone. Anyone who was at least in her year. Cressida had
kept an eye on her alright, but she had people her own age to deal with.

Mustering all the courage left in her, she stuck her hand out for him to clasp. “Deal.”
 Finding Common Ground

By breakfast the entire school knew that Harry Potter was Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend, a feat
which Harry wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed. Perhaps he had told one of the ghosts that
waved to her as she passed. Whatever it was, she knew that Draco was feeling particularly
smug about the whole thing. When she came down into the common room that morning she
found him waiting for her, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. As they walked into the Great Hall
together she found herself wondering if this was what a mob wife felt like, always with a
couple of heavies behind her at all times. She ate her cereal with a furrowed brow, trying her
best not to look over at the Gryffindor table.

“What’s up with you?” Draco asked suddenly.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” she hissed.

Draco looked over to the Gryffindors and grinned, “Good.” He then pecked her on the cheek.

Harry blushed. She had never been kissed before, not even on the cheek. Nobody had ever
done that, not even Aunt Petunia on her good days. Then she heard the shrieking of owls and
all thoughts of kissing and boys were forgotten. She watched as packages and letters fell in
front of the other students, and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness as she
realised she wouldn’t get anything. Draco, of course, had a package plopped down in front of
him filled with the same sweets she had seen him open before. She recognised some of them
off the trolley on the train, and stared at them in bewilderment.

“What are your parents like?” she asked softly.

Draco shrugged. “They’re alright. Father works at the Ministry and does a lot of important
work, which means he’s working a lot.”

“Do you miss them?”

Draco paused. “Why are you asking this?”

Harry looked away nervously, “It-it doesn’t matter.”

He took a moment to consider her before going back to rifling through his sweet package.
“Yes, I miss them,” he muttered under his breath.

Harry smiled at his honesty, not thinking that he would offer up such honesty. ‘Perhaps he
isn’t so bad’, she thought.

------

There were twenty broomsticks lying in lines for their flying lesson with the Gryffindors. She
saw Ron and Hermione, and some of the others she remembered from the train all line up
across from her. Hermione shot her a friendly smile before hitting Ron on the arm to look at
her. Ron huffed but smiled at her anyway. Then something dark flashed in his eyes and he
was glaring daggers to the person next to her.

Harry turned to Draco and whispered, “What did you do to Ron?”

“Who?”

“You know who I mean. What did you do to him?” she snapped.

Draco grinned, “I don’t think he likes the idea of us two together.”

Before Harry could say anything else, Madam Hooch appeared before them with her hawk-
like yellow eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she barked. “Stick out your right hand
over your broom and say ‘up’!”

“Up!” everyone shouted.

Harry’s broom was in her hand in an instant and she laughed in amazement at how quickly
she’d managed it. Draco’s came up a minute later but she could feel his eyes on her as they
waited for the others to catch up.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off from the ground hard. Hover for a
moment then touch back down.” Hooch lifted the whistle to her lips. “On my whistle -three-
two-”

The next thing Harry knew, one minute Neville was in the air, the next he was lying face
down in a heap on the grass. Madame Hooch rushed over to help him to his feet, clutching
his broken wrist in her hand before turning her attention back to the class.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a
single broom in the air, you’ll be out of Hogwarts faster than you can say ‘Quidditch’.”

Harry watched as Madame Hooch led a crying Neville away before her attention was
snapped up by Draco bursting into laughter. “Did you see his face?” he sneered.

She was shocked to see the other Slytherins join in as he picked Neville’s Remembrall up and
tossed it into the air. Sighing, she decided that if she was going to be his girlfriend then she
was going to try and make him as less Dudley-like as possible.

“Give it here,” she muttered.

Draco looked bewildered for a moment, as did the others who instantly became silent as they
watched the pair. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? Just give it here!”

“No,” he smiled nastily. “I think I’ll it somewhere for Longbottom to find -how about on the
roof?”
Before she could snatch it from his hand, Draco was on his broom and off above their heads.
Harry briefly recalled his boasting of being a good flyer and was disappointed to find it was
true. ‘Damnit’, she thought and mounted her broom again.

Hermione grabbed her arm and shouted, “Harry, no way! You heard Madame Hooch.
Besides, you don’t even know how to fly-”

Harry ignored her. Kicking off from the ground, she took off into the sky. As she rose higher
and higher, she found herself in love with the feeling of the wind rushing through her hair and
whipping her robes around behind her. The feeling was quickly interrupted when she saw the
blonde head floating just in front of her.

“Malfoy!” she shouted.

Draco glanced over his shoulder, a twinkle lingering in his eye. “Oh, you finally caught up.”

“Draco,” she sighed. “This is stupid, just hand it over.”

“No. Why do you care about that great lump anyway?”

“Because he hasn’t done anything to me? Look, you said you’d show me how the wizarding
world works if I became your girlfriend. What exactly is this showing me apart from the fact
that you’re a bully?”

Draco froze. “A bully, huh?” he hissed. “Fine. If you want it, go and get it.” With a snarl, he
threw the Remembrall as far as he could, not counting on Harry zooming past him in order to
catch it before it broke a window.

Remembrall in hand, she returned to the mass of students below with Draco right behind her,
a thunderous look on his face. As she looked at the smiling faces of the other students that
surrounded her, she wondered if she could survive without his help after all.

“Harriet Potter!”

Snapping her head up, Harry saw McGonagall and Snape heading towards them and her face
went pale. ‘It was good while it lasted, I guess’, she thought before handing her broom to
Hermione and walking towards the professors.

------

“She’s too young!”

“Oh, really, Severus,” McGonagall sighed wearily. “I didn’t realise your house was so
arrogant not to spot talent when you see it.”

Harry watched the argument between the professors with wide eyes, unsure what exactly they
were arguing over. Whatever it was, McGonagall was praising her name so she knew it
couldn’t be all too bad. Snape, however, still had a face like a sour lemon when he looked at
her, and she didn’t feel like she’d be getting any answers out of him anytime soon.
“She’d be a brilliant Seeker though!”

“We already have a Seeker,” Snape spat.

“Not like her you don’t.” McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose and grumbled, “Why
not let Flint test her first? If he doesn’t think she’s ready, then don’t put her forward. And
don’t just reject her because of your own personal reasons, Severus.”

Snape’s face twisted up into a snarl, “Fine.”

The Potions Master walked away with a huff and a flourish of his black robes, leaving Harry
feeling a little dumbfounded. She stared up at McGonagall nervously, “Professor? Am I in
trouble?”

------

Harry returned to the common room feeling a little out of sorts. A seeker. It sounded a good
enough position. Ron had explained a bit about Quidditch on the train but she still wasn’t
sure about somethings. McGonagall had promised that the Slytherin Captain would give her a
try out to test her skills, but somehow she didn’t see Snape letting her go through with it. She
slumped into one of the leather sofas and sighed wearily, staring up at the blackened ceiling.

“Where were you?”

She turned her head to find Draco standing over her, his face thunderous. “With McGonagall.
She was trying to persuade Snape to make me Seeker for Slytherin.”

Draco blinked. “Really?!”

“Is that so odd?”

“First Years never make the house team,” he explained. “If Snape let you in, you’d be the
youngest seeker of the century.”

“That’s what McGonagall said, but Snape said they already have a seeker,” she sighed.

The sofa lowered as he sat beside her. “Is that something you’d like, to be a seeker?” he
asked softly.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought you were mad at me.”

“Oh, I am,” he sniffed. “But I understand that all good relationships have their ups and
downs.”

“I don’t think you can call this a relationship. We’ve been together like a day.”

Draco placed a hand over hers and murmured, “You’ll see. The day will come when everyone
wants to be like us.”
“You’ve been watching too much Muggle TV,” she snickered. “We gonna burst out into song
next, or declare our undying love for each other?”

Rolling his eyes, he growled, “Don’t be stupid, Potter. And for the record, I’ve never watched
Muggle TV.”

She glanced at him. “You really think we can last? We’ve already had a fight and its been a
day.”

“I’ll make it work.”

Harry sat up in her seat to frown at him, puzzled by his determination. “Why?”

In an instant, he pecked her on the cheek again and looked tenderly into her eyes, “Because
you are an investment and my father taught me to never invest in something lightly.”

Something within Harry’s chest fluttered at his words and she sat there in both awe and
bewilderment as he stood up and headed towards his dormitory. Harry let out a sigh and
wondered just what she had got herself into.
 A Question of Friendship
Chapter Notes

I know you guys love Jealous!Draco so this chapter is specifically for that as Harry
becomes friends with Ron properly.

The only thing Harry was sure of was that this was somehow Draco’s doing. That was the
only way she could explain how she ended up on the Quidditch team. Marcus Flint had taken
one look at her skills and a wicked grin had slid across his face. He had then paraded her
around the common room, announcing to anyone who would listen that she would be their
secret weapon to winning the House Cup this year. All the while Draco had sat smugly from
the sofas as he watched her.

She just about understood the game and now she was training for their first game. The
thought made her feel ill. ‘How am I supposed to this?’ she thought. ‘What if I mess up?’ She
was so immersed in her thoughts, she bumped straight into Ron.

“Harry?”

“Sorry! I-I-” she spluttered.

Ron frowned, deciding to take pity on her. “Heard you made seeker.”

“Yeah, well, that stunt the other day got him to convince Snape to let me make the team,” she
said with a shrug.

“You don’t look too happy about that.”

“What if I mess up?!” she blurted out.

Ron chuckled, “You wouldn’t have made the team if you were gonna do that. Wood’s already
going mad you got sorted into Slytherin because of it. Imagine if you’d been in Gryffindor.
We might have won this season!”

Harry’s face fell. “Yeah,” she said deflated.

“Hey,” he said with a lopsided grin. “It’ll be alright. I mean, I know you’re a Slytherin and all
but you don’t seem all evil and that like Malfoy.”

Harry found herself giggling at that. “No, I’m nothing like Malfoy.”

Something flashed across Ron’s face suddenly and he paused, wetting his lips. “Can I just ask
-are you really dating him?”
Harry shrugged. “I guess.”

“Why?”

Harry had been giving the whole situation a lot of thought over the last few days. Malfoy was
rude, arrogant and seemed to believe everyone outside of Slytherin was beneath him. Yet, it
was probably him who got her onto the team, or at least convinced Snape enough to let her
onto it. He hadn’t really been much of a pain to her besides from being horrible to everyone
else.

“Don’t know really. We just kinda agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and here we are.”

Ron didn’t look convinced. “You just decided to start dating. No real reason.”

“I mean,” she sighed. “He is kinda cute.”

“I hope you’re talking about me, Potter.” She turned around and found Draco behind her with
Crabbe and Goyle towering behind him. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Ron was just congratulating me on making Seeker,” she smiled pleasantly. “Isn’t that
sweet?”

Draco and Ron glared at each other menacingly for a moment before Harry managed to grab
Draco’s arm and pull him in the opposite direction. “Lovely chatting to you, Ron. See you in
Potions!”

“What the hell were you doing talking to Weasley?” Draco hissed as she led him away.

“Discussing the weather, what do you think? I’m perfectly capable of making friends,
Malfoy,” she huffed.

“Not when they’re a Weasley!”

Harry figured this was something that Draco would never let go, but as she glanced back at
Ron, she knew she was going to ignore him anyway.

-----

Ron managed to find her again before Draco did, grabbing her arm as she left Charms to pull
her towards one of the trophy cabinets in the corridors. “There!” he announced proudly.

“There, what?”

“Proof you’re gonna be a great seeker!”

Harry frowned as she squinted at the plaque he was pointing to where engraved amongst
other players’ names was her fathers. “My dad was on the team too?”

“Yeah. I figured you didn’t know much about them when they were here.”
She glanced back at him, “How did you know this was here?”

“Bloody detention,” he scowled. “Had to polish the damn thing.”

“Snape?”

Ron nodded. “Snape.”

The pair broke out into laughter. “Hey, you know just because you’re a Slytherin,” Ron
muttered. “Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“I know, plus it’ll really annoy Malfoy if we do.”

Ron laughed, “Come on, I’ll bring you up to the common room to see Fred and George. You
can tell them all about you and Malfoy.”

As the pair walked up to the staircases, Hermione followed up behind them fresh from the
library with a bag full of books. As they walked up a staircase, it suddenly began to move
towards the third floor.

-----

Harry panted as she burst through the Slytherin common room door, trying her best to adjust
her hair and glasses so she didn’t look like she’d ran away from a three-headed dog. She
thought for a moment that she had managed not to get caught when Draco appeared out of the
shadows.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“Never mind.”

“You were with Weasley, weren’t you?” he spat.

Harry rolled her eyes and stopped in front of him. “You want the turht: he showed me a
plaque with my dad’s name on it. He was taking me back to the Gryffindor common room to
catch up when the staircase changed and we ended up on the third floor. So, to hide from
Filch, we ended up in a locked room with a three-headed dog inside. That’s where I was.”

Draco blinked then pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Just don’t do it again. I nearly
had Crabbe and Goyle go out after you.”

Harry stilled, a small smile creeping on her face. “You-you were worried about me?”

His eyes narrowed, “No! Never mind, just go to bed. We’ve got Charms in the morning.”

Harry’s smile stayed with her as she walked back to her dormitory and slipped under the
covers. She looked across at Hedwig in her cage and thought, ‘He was worried about me’.
 For Better Or Worse

Harry took a moment to look at her reflection in the common room mirror. The green and
silver striped tie around her neck looked so strange yet it managed to bring out her eyes. For
a moment she could even consider herself pretty. She exhaled loudly. It was nearly time for
the first game of the season. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, and Flint had been adamant that they
were going to win. The Nimbus 2000 had helped lift her spirits at least, to see the envy of
everyone’s eyes as she opened it -even Draco’s. It had never occurred to her to buy a broom
when she was in Diagon Alley and Hagrid hadn’t told her to. He’d had enough to deal with in
persuading her not to buy a gold cauldron to consider broomsticks. The broom now stood in
the broom shed, polished to a fine shine, and she couldn’t wait to ride it.

“I thought I said I’d meet you in the Great Hall,” Draco called out as he entered the common
room.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

Draco scoffed, “You have a game tomorrow. You need your strength.”

“Why did you tell Snape to let me on the team?” she blurted out as he entered her reflection.

“Because you would make a good seeker, and you need Slytherin to like you. This is how.
My father is in politics and he told me that image is everything. You win tomorrow, the
whole house loves you,” he murmured.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, watching her reaction in the mirror and grinned, “And I will
be watching you the whole time.”

A tingle rushed down her spine as he pulled away and she wondered why it was that Draco
Malfoy of all people could make her so unravelled.

----

Slytherin erupted into a roar of applause and cries as Harry spat the snitch into her palm. She
held it up as they chanted her name, the players circling above her. Over in the stands, she
spied Draco cheering for her and her heart swelled at the sight.
She returned to the common room sweaty and exhausted to a packed room of cheering
students, draped head to toe in silver and green. Draco’s lips met her cheek and she almost
melted, smiling broadly as the team crowded around them. ‘Maybe this won’t be so bad’, she
thought and leaned into Draco’s touch.

-----

Harry had sat next to Hermione reading through every book she threw her way that could
possibly mention Nicholas Flamel. When the words of the pages finally began to clump
together, she managed to extract herself from Hermione’s table of books and made her way
down to the dungeons. With a sigh, she collapsed on the sofa in the common room, happy to
not be staring at words again. If anything, she wanted to bury herself in her bed and not wake
up till noon. Her stomach rumbled in protest.

“Potter, I’m not dating you for your looks. Eat something already,” Draco called out as he
entered the common room. “Come on, it’s almost dinner.”

Harry glanced up at him. “Shut up, Malfoy. I’ve been in the Library all night.”

“What on earth for?”

Harry briefly remembered that no one else was to know about the Philosopher’s Stone or the
trap door and the three-headed guard dog. “Homework. Hermione was helping me with my
Charms essay.”

Draco’s face screwed up into a scowl, “Now your friends with muggleborns?”

“I’m friends with who I want to, if you don’t like it -dump me.”

“What did I tell you about image?” he huffed.

“What did I tell you about being a git?”

Draco rolled his eyes and headed out of the common room. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

-----

Draco gave up about Harry’s choice in friends just before he went home for Christmas. Harry
sat on the sofa by the fireside as most of the other Slytherins came out of the dormitories with
their trunks. He frowned as he came to sit next to her.

“You aren’t going home?”

“Wouldn’t even they wanted me to.”

Draco sat there puzzled for a moment. “Do you want to come home with me?”

“Don’t pity me,” she sighed.

“Suit yourself then.” He stood up then kissed her forehead. “See you after the break, Potter.”

Harry watched him walk away then called: “Hey, Malfoy!” He turned to face her expectantly.
“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Potter,” he called back, a smile creeping on his face.

-----

“Malfoy actually offered to let you go home with him?” Ron asked in bewilderment.

“Yes.”
“Like to meet his parents.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Harry sighed wearily at the chess board they had been playing at for the past half an hour.
“Because we’re dating and he felt sorry for me, I guess.”

Ron scowled at his pieces, “Sounds romantic to me.”

“You know,” Harry said with a small smile. “If you don’t want to play chess, we could
always go back to the Library…!”

“Knight to E3!” Ron spluttered before Harry could finish her sentence. Even as Ron’s knight
obliterated her pawn, she couldn’t help but smile. Ron was as sick of looking for information
on Nicholas Flamel as she was, but she was happy enough to look for it on her own. Leave
Ron to lie in on a Saturday whilst Hermione was away, before she was dragging them both to
the Library again to study.

-----

When Draco returned to Hogwarts, he was nearly knocked over as Harry ran to him and
hugged him tightly. Startled for a moment, he grinned into her black hair and muttered, “Miss
me that much, Potter?”

“Not really,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“Then why-?”

“I just need someone to hold me and not ask any questions.”

Draco stilled and nodded, wrapping his arms around her and ignoring the stares of the other
students. It wasn’t until the crowds from the coaches had dispersed that Harry finally spoke
again.

“I saw my parents.”

“What?”

Her breathing was laboured and Draco realised his shoulder felt damp. “There’s this mirror.
Dumbledore had it. Showed you what you most desired. I saw my parents.”

“Why are you crying then?”

“I-I didn’t actually know what they looked like,” she sniffled. “I just knew it was them. They
looked like they loved me.”

Draco was still unsure about Harry’s home life. She didn’t talk about her muggle family a lot,
he imagined she didn’t like them all that much. He didn’t realise until this moment though,
how lonely Harry had been till now.

“I don’t have anything to remember them, you know? No photographs or anything. It’s like
they never existed,” she sobbed.

As he listened to Harry cry, he decided he was going to amend that immediately. It was time
to ask Professor Snape for a favour.
 A Question of Affection

Harry opened her eyes blearily to the sunlight streaming in through the windows and the
sound of Madame Pomfrey moving about the Hospital Wing. Sitting upright and putting on
her glasses, she wondered if her supply had been depleted anymore since Dumbledore was
here. She hoped not. There were still some chocolate frogs left last time she checked.
Someone cleared their throat and Harry almost jumped at the sight of Draco sat in the
visitor’s chair next to her bed, his lips set in a thin line.

“Draco?”

“What were you thinking?” he asked slowly.

“What?”

He met her gaze, his eyes hardened. “You nearly got yourself killed going after You Know
Who.”

She hadn’t really been thinking about Draco when she was catching flying keys and nearly
being choked to death by Devils Snare. A part of her had considered the fact that if she did
die, somewhere between avoiding large chesspieces and staring down her parents’ killer, that
he wouldn’t know a thing. She had kept the whole debacle pretty much to herself. He barely
even questioned where she went anymore, knowing it was with Ron and Hermione and the
less she brought them up, the happier he seemed.

“I didn’t know it was Voldemort. I thought it was Snape,” she huffed.

Draco scowled, “What the-why would you think it was Snape?”

“Because he hates me and I thought he was the one who jinxed my broom.”

Rolling his eyes, Draco crossed his arms before grumbling, “He wouldn’t do that. Not if he
knew it’d upset me.”

“Why would he care about that?”

“Because he’s my godfather.” He blinked. “Did I forget to mention that?”

Harry stared at him dumbfounded. That explained a lot. His clear favouritism of Draco, his
inability to see that he could do anything wrong. “Well then why’s he being such a git to me
then? I’m your girlfriend, surely that gives me some sort of brownie points!” she spluttered.

“No idea,” he shrugged.

Harry growled lowly and ran a hand through her hair, half-wondering if Hermione had
thought to stick a brush in her bedside cabinet for her. She really wanted a shower. She stilled
when she felt Draco’s hand come to rest on her blanket-covered leg, his eyes avoiding hers.
“Draco?” she asked softly.

“Don’t-don’t do it again, alright?” he said through gritted teeth. “The whole nearly-get-
yourself-killed thing.”

She thought back on the chamber where the Mirror of Erised had been with the stone. She
thought about what if she had never woken up after she passed out, if Quirrell had managed
to kill her in the process. If Voldemort had given one last push against her, would she be
sitting there in front of Draco now? She doubted it. Weak as Voldemort was, he didn’t seem
the type to give up easily. The thought of Draco fretting over her as she battled against the
Dark Lord though, had its appeal.

Harry covered his hand with hers and squeezed tightly. “Would it really kill you to say you
were worried about me?”

“This is me saying that.”

She supposed that was the closest Draco would ever get to admit affection. A smile tugged at
Harry’s lips as she murmured back, “Ok, Draco. I’ll try and not make a habit of it.”

----

When Harry was finally able to leave the Hospital Wing, Draco was at her side. He carried
her pyjamas in one arm whilst keeping a tight grip on her hand. On their way back to the
common room, she spied Hermione and Ron who waved eagerly at her. Draco sighed as she
pulled him towards them.

“You two ok?”

“Us? The whole school’s talking about it!” Ron cried.

“Yes, because you told the school’s biggest gossips,” Draco muttered dryly.

Ron scowled, “So, this is a thing now, is it?”

Harry glanced down at where Draco’s hand still held hers. “Yes, I guess it is.”

Before Ron could say anything else, Hermione spoke up: “Well, I’m happy for you. He’s
certainly proven himself whilst you were out.”

Draco stilled, not looking at any of them. “No idea what you’re talking about, Grainger.”

Hermione smirked, “He refused to leave your bedside. Snape had to literally drag him away.”

A blush rose over Draco’s face as he hissed, “Can we go now?”

Harry giggled and nodded, knowing that he had done his duty for the day. “See you at the
feast!” she called back as Draco hurriedly led her away.

----
Draco held her hand as they entered the Great Hall together, walking with his head held high
as he led her over to the Slytherin table. Everyone watched them, whispering amongst
themselves about what had happened between her and Quirrell. Harry wondered how much
Ron had told the other Gryffindors for it to spread so quickly. She still had the odd scrape on
her, but nothing too serious. That didn’t stop him from pursing his lips every time he saw
one. A part of Harry wanted to tease him for it, but decided to relish the attention.

His good mood though quickly soured when Gryffindor won the House Cup. She pecked him
on the cheek and tried her best to stifle her laughter. She glanced up to where Snape was
scowling at the top table, a sheer contrast to the grin on McGonagall’s face. She couldn’t help
but feel a little bit smug about that.

“We still won the Quidditch,” she murmured as he glared at her. She spied Flint down the
table who winked at her in acknowledgement. Despite her obvious ties to Gryffindor, the
Quidditch captain seemed to have no qualms over that as long as she kept winning matches.

-----

Harry held the photo album Hagrid had gifted her tightly to her chest, knowing she would
have to put it somewhere safe when she returned to Privet Drive. The thought of returning
filled her with dread as she exited the platform with the others. She hugged Ron and
Hermione tightly, promising to write before looking for her ride. It didn’t surprise her that
only Uncle Vernon was there to greet her. Aunt Petunia was probably fretting over Dudley’s
pig tail still. She wondered if they’d managed to have it removed or not. Uncle Vernon
looked mildly annoyed to be there waiting for her, looking down his nose as she appeared in
front of him with her trolley.

“You get into trouble?” he huffed.

“No more than usual,” she muttered and handed him the trolley.

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing to the album.

Harry shrugged. “Photos of my parents.”

Uncle Vernon looked stunned for a moment, as if it had never occurred to him that she might
want to know what her parents looked like. It certainly hadn’t over the past eleven years. If
he tried to touch it, she would be fulfilling Hagrid’s threat of a snout and ears for Dudley. Or
maybe she could teach Hedwig to fly at their heads. There was so little at Privet Drive that
was hers, she felt oddly territorial over it.

“Potter!”

Harry turned and found Draco walking over to her. “Write to me,” he said, avoiding her gaze
and slid a piece of parchment into her hand.

“What is this?”

“My address.”
Harry grinned and pecked him on the cheek, stifling her laughter as he blushed all the way
back to where his parents were waiting for him. Uncle Vernon looked at her in confusion,
muttering under his breath about strange children, but she didn’t care. She held the parchment
closely, thinking to herself that Hogwarts was a lot more interesting than her old school was.
 Meet the Malfoys
Chapter Notes

And we're onto Chamber of Secrets! I'm so glad everyone's enjoying it so far.

Summer had dragged for Harry with no letters from Hermione or Ron -even Draco, she felt
utterly alone. Then there had been the incident with Dobby which had resulted in the bars on
her window and the locks on her door. She sat in her bedroom staring past the bars wondering
if they would even let go back to Hogwarts when term started, or would they keep her locked
up till she was eighteen? She hoped that somebody would notice if she didn’t turn up for
school. ‘Maybe Dumbledore or Hagrid will come get me?’ she thought with a smirk,
remembering the way that Dudley still winced whenever pigs were mentioned.

A thunderous knocking came from the front door and she wondered just who the Dursely’s
had upset this time. Then a familiar voice cried out from downstairs: “Where is she?”

“Draco?” She jumped out of bed and banged on the door. “Draco?!”

The door burst open with a quick spell. Harry stared wide-eyed as Draco strode into her
bedroom, his eyes narrowed. “What the hell, Potter? Not a single letter all summer.”

She frowned, “Malfoy, I-”

“No, seriously. We’re supposed to a couple so why the hell haven’t you…” His voice trailed
off as he noticed the bars on her window. “Are those bars on the window?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So, I can’t leave my room.”

Draco’s eye twitched. “What do you mean?”

“Uncle Vernon put them on so I can’t send letters to my friends,” she replied with a shrug.

Draco looked behind at the door he’d just opened that had been locked from the outside. “He-
he locked you in here? For how long?”

“Just a few days.” Harry blinked. “Never mind that. How the hell did you even get here?!”
she cried.
He turned around to face her, his anger fading. “Pack a bag, I’m not letting you stay here if
they’re going to treat you like that.”

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon starting to get irate downstairs, his voice raised slightly as he
talked. She wondered who he was talking to, but decided it was best not to check. Instead,
she got out her trunk and began filling it with her clothes. It was mostly already packed for
Hogwarts as she had basically re-packed it within the first week of returning for the summer.
Hedwig hooted happily as she noticed the packing. Harry smiled, knowing that she’d have to
let her out as soon as possible once they got to wherever Draco was taking her.

“Where are we going?”

“My place of course, now hurry up.”

Harry huffed, “You could help, you know.”

Draco rolled his eyes before doing just that, throwing in her books on top of everything else.
He then picked up Hedwig’s cage and headed out the door, leaving Harry to lug the trunk
down the stairs. ‘Such a gentleman’, she thought dryly as the trunk thumped down each stair.

As she came down the stairs, she noticed a man standing in the middle of the living room
with a terrified Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He had long platinum blonde hair that was
tied back with a black ribbon and a cane with a snake’s head he was tapping against the
carpet impatiently. She recognised him instantly from the station last year.

He turned to see Draco and smiled warmly, “Ah, this must be the famous girlfriend. I’m
Draco’s father, Lucius Malfoy. A pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Potter.”

Draco never shut up about his father, but to see him standing before her all blonde hair and
charming demeanour, she wasn’t sure what to think. She could see where Draco’s personality
had come from. A disarming smile and passive aggressive comments must be the Malfoy
way, she thought as she shook Lucius’ hand.

“Father, can Harry come stay with us till school starts?”

“Of course, my boy,” Lucius grinned. He then turned to the Dursely’s. “We’ll make sure she
has everything she needs for Second Year; don’t you worry.”

Harry tried to stop the laughter bubbling in her as Lucius held onto both children tightly. “It
was lovely meeting you all, ta-ta.”

In an instant, they were gone from the Dursely’s living room and in the foyer of a large
mansion. As soon as her feet hit panelled floors, Harry burst out laughing. The Malfoys
stared at her in bewilderment.

“I’m sorry, but their faces-!” she chuckled. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen them look like
that.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “You actually found that funny?”

“Sure. I love seeing Uncle Vernon get all flustered about wizard stuff,” she grinned.

Draco and his father shared a look before shrugging in sync. Lucius removed his robe and
called out to the house: “Narcissa, we have a guest!”

The sound of heels clacking against hardwood floors announced the arrival of Mrs Malfoy.
She was, like her husband, blonde with a slim build and sharp eyes. Disarmingly beautiful.
She smiled instantly as her eyes landed on Harry.

“You must be Harriet,” she said coolly. “Draco’s told us so much about you.”

Harry turned to Draco and smirked, “Has he really?”

“Mother!” he whined under his breath, trying his best to conceal his embarrassment.

“Narcissa, Harriet will be staying with us until the start of term.”

Narcissa nodded, not even fazed by the sudden guest. “Of course, dear. Follow me.”

Harry hurried along after Narcisa, finally taking in the sheer size of Draco’s house. There
were portraits of ancestors along the walls that seemed to nod their heads in
acknowledgement at her as she climbed the grand staircase. Narcissa led her down the hall to
a set of a doors, pointing to the next one along.

“That one is Draco’s room. If you need anything, just let him know and he’ll sort it for you.”
She opened the door in front of her with a flourish. “This shall be your room.”

Harry gasped as she entered the bedroom. She had never been in a bedroom this big in her
life. There was a fireplace on the right side of the room, around which a chaise lounge sat in
front and a small coffee table. The bed was gigantic, a sleigh bed painted black with emerald
green sheets and a runner along the bottom of the bed with the Malfoy coat of arms
embroidered onto the fabric. To the left side of the bed, French windows opened up to a stone
balcony that overlooked the gardens.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s heaven,” Harry sighed in awe.

Narcissa smiled, “I’ll leave you to unpack.”

“Oh! Is it alright if I let Hedwig out, I wasn’t allowed to back home,” she blurted out.”

Naricssa nodded. “Of course, dear. We’ll be downstairs when your ready.”

Harry blinked and her trunk was beside her and Hedwig sat atop the chest of drawers,
hooting happily as she eyed the outside. Hurriedly, she opened the balcony doors and
unlatched Hedwig’s cage, watching with a grin as the owl flew off into the sky. Harry
breathed in the cool summer air and smiled in contentment, ‘Freedom’.

-----
Harry came downstairs half an hour later to find the Malfoys sat in the drawing room by the
fire, sipping tea. It seemed so grand to Harry as she walked up to them, almost feeling out of
place next to them. Then Draco noticed her and was on his feet immediately.

“There you are! Are you alright?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Did they hurt you? Did they starve you?” he asked quickly.

Hurting Harry had never really been high on the Dursley’s priorities, not directly anyway.
Emotionally, almost always. Physically, never. “I’m fine, Draco,” she sighed, placing a hand
on his cheek.

Draco relaxed instantly and kissed her palm. “Good.”

Harry decided she liked the attentive side of Draco, much more than she did the sneering one
she knew would crop up eventually once they got back to Hogwarts.

“You really don’t mind me being here?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course not, Miss Potter,” Lucius said softly. “You are our Draco’s girlfriend, after all. I
would never deny him that.”

Harry chuckled, “Told you, you were spoilt.”

“Says the girl who got a Nimbus 2000 for getting on the Quidditch team,” Draco pouted.

“Exactly. I earned it fair and square.”

Draco huffed, “I beg to differ.”

“Then why did you convince Snape to let me on the team?!”

“I-” Draco’s voice faltered. “Whatever, it’s not like Dumbledore wouldn’t have made him
anyway.”

Harry smirked, “Yes, but you got there first, didn’t you?”

Draco scowled, “You wanna settle this outside?”

“Fine by me, Malfoy.”

Lucius and Narcissa shared a knowing look as the pair wandered off, still bickering, to where
the broomsticks were kept. Lucius straightened his Daily Prophet, smirking as he pretended
to read it.

“I think this arrangement might have its advantages, Cissy,” he murmured.

“I think so too,” she smirked.

 Price of Fame
Chapter Notes

Sorry about the wait, guys! The plot for Second Year would be so much different if she
were staying with the Malfoys so its more Lockhart-centric in this chapter.

To the Malfoy’s surprise and delight, Harry was as stubborn and brilliant as Draco was. She
burst through the front door with windswept hair and chaffed cheeks closely followed by
Draco, the pair of them grinning wildly from their race.

“I so won that one!” she cried.

“Did not!”

“I told you to get someone to referee, but you wouldn’t listen,” she mused as she ruffled her
hair.

“You said and I quote ‘it won’t be fair because they’re your parents’.”

“Then it’s clearly your fault for not having an un-bias referee in the wings.” Draco pouted,
which Harry quickly kissed away with a giggle. “You’re a sore loser, you know.”

“And you’re an annoying winner.”

Harry smiled, “You love it really.”

Draco hummed and kissed her again. “Come on, I want to show you the rest of the house.”

“Take your shoes off first!” Lucius shouted from the drawing room. “You’re not traipsing
mud into the house.”

Demurely, the pair shared a smile as they took off their now muddy shoes before taking off
into the house.

----

Malfoy Manor was an architectural marvel. It was one of those beautifully crafted mansions
she had only ever seen on TV. There were marble and wooden floors, carved fireplaces, and a
library that would probably make Hermione weep with joy. It felt like she had been
transported to another world, one where things like debutantes and arranged marriages
happened. She briefly wondered if Draco would have to endure something like that. She
doubted it. His mother clearly doted on him too much to allow him to marry just anyone.
“Do your parents like me?” she asked suddenly as he moved to head back downstairs.

Draco turned to her and shrugged. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Never really had to impress parents before either,”
she muttered, shifting her feet nervously.

Tipping her chin up to face him, he smiled, “Don’t worry about it. They’ll love you. Mother
will take you shopping and Father will show you off proudly to all his Ministry friends.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That makes me seem like a trophy than a girlfriend.”

“You’re the Girl Who Lived, Potter, and you’re all mine,” he murmured before pressing a
kiss to her lips.

A throat cleared from the bottom of the stairs and the pair snapped their heads to look at
Narcissa holding two letters in her hand. “It looks like we have some shopping to do, dears,”
she smiled knowingly.

-----

Diagon Alley had changed very little since First Year, except this time she arrive on its
cobbled streets with Draco on her arm and Lucius Malfoy guiding them through the many
shops. She had missed it so much, all the wonderful things that were for sale there from bats
to Bertie Botts. At least this time she didn’t have to worry about embarrassing herself with a
golden cauldron that Hagrid had to talk her out of. She glanced over at Draco and
remembered how they’d met that day, how she had thought he was such a snob as he waxed
on about Slytherin. She giggled at the memory.

“Something funny?”

“I was just thinking about last year. Remember when we met at Madame Malkin’s?”

Draco matched her smile, “Of course, I do.”

“I thought you were a right git back then.”

“Oh? And, you don’t now?”

Harry laughed softly, “Oh, I do. I just like you a lot better now.”

Draco pouted as he opened the door to Flourish and Blotts, “Why is that then?”

“I now know you’re a good kisser.”

Draco rolled his eyes then stilled as he immediately noticed the flock of red hair in the store.
He inwardly groaned, recognising the Weasley clan instantly and knowing that meant their
little outing was to be interrupted by the Weasley’s inane babble.

“Harry!”
“Fuck,” Draco muttered and let go of her hand. “Darling, your entourage are here.”

Harry shot him a pointed look before running over to the redheads. Draco slunk up the
staircase instead, hoping to find something interesting to read whilst he waited for harry to
finish. He half-wished he had gone with his father when he had the change, but he didn’t like
the idea of leaving Harry alone. It would be just like Harry to end up in Knockturn Alley
accidentally.

----

Harry found it unnerving the way that Ron’s sister Ginny looked up at her, almost in
admiration. Harry smiled down at her nervously, watching as she darted away to Mrs
Weasley’s side.

“What did I do?” she asked Ron.

“Oh, that. Nothing. She’s a little bit obsessed with you, I think,” Ron grunted. “Hasn’t
stopped asking about you all bloody summer.”

Harry nodded slowly, bringing her list out of her pocket. “Right, so who’s this Lockhart bloke
on the list?”

“A poncey git who likes writing books. We think the new Defence Against the Dark Arts
teachers must be a fan -bet it’s a witch.”

Hermione frowned, “Don’t be so sexist, Ron. Lockhart’s books are actually very good.”

“You’ve read them already?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“Of course.”

Harry wasn’t surprised, nor was she surprised that the shop had such a huge queue for
Lockhart, mostly of middle-aged witches. His face was plastered everywhere, all winking and
flashing dazzling white teeth to the crowd. The real Lockhart emerged from the back of the
store to the crowd with the same dazzling smile as he posed for the irritable-looking man
armed with a camera.

“Out of the way,” he snarled. “This is for the Daily Prophet.”

Harry didn’t see what the big deal about him was but Hermione seemed to think he was
perfect. She’d question her friends’ judgement on men if there wasn’t a Draco-size argument
there. The flash of the camera went off and Lockhart’s smile faded as he noticed her standing
there besides Ron and Hermione.

“I don’t believe it. Harriet Potter,” he gasped.

‘Oh shit’, she thought as Lockhart immediately seized her arm and pulled her to the front of
the queue. Harry stared dumbly up at him as the crowd burst into applause. The
photographers was clicking away madly at them as Lockhart wrapped an arm around her
waist. She was suddenly very grateful that she was wearing her nicest cloak as the flash
muddled her vision.

“Nice big smile, Harry,” Lockhart murmured. “Together, you and I are worth the front page.”

The thought didn’t agree with Harry at all. She had never wanted to be on the front page
before. She knew that Draco would be rolling his eyes right now from wherever he’d hidden
himself.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lockhart cried out. “What an extraordinary moment this is! When
young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, to buy my autobiography Magic and
Me, he had no idea that she would be leaving with my entire collection, free of charge. Nor
would he and his fellow students know that they will be seeing much more of me as I will be
taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers at Hogwarts!”

The crowd cheered as Harry staggered slightly as Lockhart dumped a stack of books into her
arms. Scowling, she managed to get away from Lockhart and made a run for the front of the
shop.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” a voice sighed from the stairs above her. She turned and
found Draco scowling at her. “Famous Harry Potter, can’t even go into a bookshop without
making the front page.”

“Shut up!” she hissed. “It’s not like I asked for this.”

“Merlin, Malfoy you are such a git,” Ron grumbled as he, Ginny and Hermione came
forward holding their own stacks of books. “Harry, remind me why you’re dating him
again?”

Draco’s eye twitched and Harry and Hermione were immediately holding the pair of them
back from each other by their jackets. “I hope you’re playing nice, Draco.” Lucius’ hand
immediately landed on Draco’s shoulder, sneering at Mr Weasley as he entered the shop.
Harry let go of his jacket, coming to stand by his side as Hermione let go of Ron.

“Ron!” Mr Weasley cried as he struggled forward with Fred and Geroge in tow. “It’s mad in
here. Let’s go outside.”

“Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley.”

Mr Weasley’s face hardened at the sight of the other man. Harry suddenly felt as though she
wanted to be anywhere else as the pair began sniping at each other. As she watched Lucius
shove the books back into Ginny’s cauldron, she chose that moment to intervene.

“Mr Malfoy, sir?” Lucius frowned as he turned to face her. “Do you mind if me and Draco
wait outside whilst you get his books? I’m afraid big crowds aren’t my strong suit,” she
chuckled nervously.

Lucius glanced at the pile of books in her arms. “Haven’t you paid yet?”
Pushing her glasses up her nose, she looked down at the floor. “Lockhart kinda gave them to
me free of charge.”

“Used her as a publicity stunt more like,” Draco muttered bitterly.

Lucius’ face softened instantly as realisation dawned him. “Oh, I see. Yes, by all means wait
for me outside, children. I’ll be just a moment.” Lucius turned to Mr Weasley and muttered,
“See you at work.”

He then strode through the store to the queue without a second glance behind him. Harry
couldn’t tell if Draco looked relieved or annoyed by her intervention, but then he grabbed
Harry’s hand and gestured to the open door behind them.

“Sorry about that, guys. Look I gotta go, but I’ll see you at the station, ok?” she smiled
awkwardly as Draco led her outside.

-----

Lucius took them out for lunch, not to the Leaky Cauldron as the Weasley’s might have done
but to a well-established restaurant in wizarding London. There was a car waiting for them
outside too, a Bentley if Harry wasn’t mistaken. Draco had his lips set in a thin line and they
had been ever since the bookshop.

“Alright, what did I do now?” she huffed once Lucius had excused himself to the bathroom.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at Lockhart. He shouldn’t have done that,” he grumbled. “And
now we’re stuck with him for a whole year too!”

Harry twirled the straw of her milkshake around idly. “He can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, guys like that are nothing but trouble. Father told me so. What was Dumbledore
thinking letting a man like that onto the staff?” he hissed.

Harry rolled her eyes, “Maybe it’ll be good press for the school. Aren’t you always telling me
the school could use some of that? Especially after last year’s little incident.”

Draco shot her a pointed look. “Oh, yes I haven’t forgotten about that little incident. If this
one tries anything funny like that, I’ll-”

“You’ll do what?” she sighed. “He’s a teacher now, Draco. You can’t very well hex a teacher,
if we could I’d have done it to Snape ages ago.”

Draco managed a smile as he chuckled softly, “You really need to get over your grudge
against Snape.”

“I will when you get over yours with my friends.” They stared at each other in silence for a
moment before Draco sighed, “Agree to disagree?”

“Fine.”
She pecked him on the cheek and the pair smiled at each other before returning to their
milkshakes.

-----

The Malfoy’s dropped them off at the station via car. It was a strange sight to behold, Harry
thought as she watched Draco push her trolley alongside her, Narcissa fussing over him as
they walked. As they came to the entrance to the platform, she swore she heard a familiar
CRACK sound but then they were through to the platform and she thought nothing of it.

Narcissa kissed them both on the cheek. “Now, if you need anything write to us immediately.
Both of you.”

Harry blinked. “Really?”

“Of course, we understand that your Muggle family aren’t the most generous of guardians.
We’re happy to help,” she beamed.

Harry’s heart swelled at the thought and she hugged her tightly. Narcissa glanced at Lucius,
who seemed equally as puzzled by her reaction.

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled her away and onto the train. “We will do. We promise,” he
cried out to them from the open door-window. “See you at the end of term.”

Harry frowned, turning to him as the train whistled. “You’re not going home for Christmas?”

Draco waved to his parents as the train began to move. “And leave you on your own again?
Not bloody likely.” Harry smiled softly at the thought and leaned into him, hoping that
nobody would try and kill her this year at least. Or maybe that Draco and her would get just a
little bit closer.
 The M Word
Chapter Notes

I know it's been a while, but I'm back. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out soon.

School was abundantly normal. Professor Sprout showed them how to pot mandrakes and the
sound of their cry still left a ringing in Harry’s ears as she left the greenhouse with Draco.
The biggest disappointment though, had to be Lockhart. He seemed to insert himself into
every class they had and the teachers didn’t seem to appreciate it any more than Harry did.
He wouldn’t last, that much she knew. Even Draco groaned as he spied their next lesson on
the timetable and tried to duck out of the doorway before Harry pulled him into Lockhart’s
classroom. If she had to put up with Lockhart, Draco certainly wasn’t getting out of it.

Lockhart’s classroom was completely different to how Quirrell had decorated it. For one,
Quirrell didn’t litter the classroom with photographs of himself. Harry wanted to die right
then and there when Lockhart noticed her as she came in.

“Harriet! How lovely to see you again,” he beamed.

Harry blushed profusely and quickly sunk into her seat next to Draco as the rest of the class
filled in. As Lockhart presented them all with a quiz on himself, she glowered at the sheet of
paper in disbelief. ‘Is he serious?’ she thought. A sense of dread overcame her as she realised
she hadn’t read a single word of Lockhart’s books yet.

----

“What was Dumbledore thinking?” she cried as she stormed into the common room after
putting all the pixies back into their cage. Her hair was still out of place and her robes were in
dire need of ironing.

“For once we appear to be in agreement,” Draco muttered from his place on the couch.

Harry slumped down next to him, a scowl set on her face. “A quiz on himself. Honestly, how
arrogant can he get? And those pixies?! Hogwarts can’t really be that desperate for good
press, surely.”

Draco shrugged. “Father says after last year, they need all the good press they can get.”

“But Lockhart? Don’t you need qualifications to teach? Like a degree?”

“I think it might be honorary.”

Harry shot him a glare. “Draco, this is serious. We’re gonna spend the whole year taking
quizzes on his books and what his favourite colour is. How is that preparing us for
anything?”

Draco smirked, “Maybe you can suggest lesson plans over replying to fan mail?”

“Malfoy!” she growled.

Wrapping an arm around her, he pecked her on the cheek. “I’m teasing. C’mon, we have an
essay about Lockhart’s facial structure to start on.”

-----

Harry was poked awake on Saturday morning by Peregrine Derrick, the only other female
player on the Slytherin team. She had slicked back hair in a ponytail and was already wearing
her Quidditch gear as she turned to shaking Harry awake by the shoulder.

“Potter, wake up.”

“It’s Saturday!” she whined as she put her glasses on. “Why are you dressed?”

“Flint wants to train on the new brooms,” Peregrine huffed.

“What new brooms?”

“Ask your boyfriend. Now come on, get dressed.”

Reluctantly, Harry obeyed and stumbled down to the common room where the rest of the
team was waiting for her. There weren’t many students around at this time on a Saturday, and
Harry instantly felt envious of the people still snuggled up in bed instead of being in uniform.
Flint grinned as she approached, rubbing at her eyes before adjusting her glasses.

“Now we’re all assembled, as some of you may know we were recently gifted new brooms
which Snape has allowed us try out this morning. Let’s see Wood kick up a fuss now,” he
smirked.

“Again. What brooms?” Harry grumbled.

Flint chuckled, “I guess he wanted it to be a surprise. Draco’s father donated nimbus 2001’s
to the team. This way we’re sure to keep beating Gryffindor.”

Harry frowned, “Draco’s dad did? Why?”

“No idea. Apparently, Draco said something about the state of the team’s brooms. He seemed
very eager about ensuring we could keep up with you,” he replied with a shrug.

Harry blushed and tugged her uniform tighter around her as the team inspected the sleek
black broomsticks laid out for them. Harry was happy enough with her Nimbus 2000, but she
couldn’t help but wonder why Lucius had made such an effort.
Of course, nothing was ever that simple as she followed the team down to the ground floor
and bumped into the Gryffindor team. Flint and Wood seemed to stare daggers at each other
even as Flint handed him the note from Snape.

“Why do you have new brooms?” Wood huffed.

“A gift from Draco’s father. He is very interested in the progress of Harry here,” Flint
smirked.

All eyes fell on Harry who tried her best to hide behind Flint. “C’mon, let’s just go to the
grounds already,” she whined softly.

“See, Wood, my team is pure talent. We have interested investors, like a professional team.
Young Harry here is just the start,” Flint sneered, wrapping an arm around her.

Wood seethed and had to be held back by Fred and George. “At least I’m not using a Second
Year as a poster girl!” he hissed.

“You would too if you had her in your house.”

There was something in the way the two captains looked at each other that Harry couldn’t
quite put her finger on. Something that reminded her of the way Draco looked at her
sometimes.

“Harry? What’s going on here?”

“Potter!” Draco shouted across the courtyard.

Harry groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as she heard Hermione and Ron, and Draco
come over. “I just wanted to have a lie in,” she whined as she sensed an impending argument.

“Bloody hell! Those are Nimbus 2001’s,” Ron cried. “Where’d you get those?”

Rolling her eyes, Harry huffed, “Apparently Draco’s father gifted them to the team. Please
don’t start.”

“See, Weasley, my father, unlike yours, can afford the best. Therefore, the best team gets the
best brooms,” Draco sneered as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“At least nobody on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent,”
Hermione sniffed.

Harry glared at her, wondering why she wasn’t sensing that Harry wasn’t in the mood to be
dealing with this right now. She barely even noticed how Draco’s face hardened instantly.
“Nobody asked you for your opinion. Filthy little mudblood,” he hissed.

Harry didn’t understand what he had just said, but she saw the way that Hermione’s face fell.
Before Ron could open his mouth to say anything, Harry slapped Draco hard. The sound
echoed around the courtyard, both teams frozen in place. Draco’s face went from shock to
blind fury instantly. He touched his cheek tenderly, gazing back at her with a look of betrayal.
“What was that?”

Hermione bolted before Harry could answer, Ron quick on her tail. Harry moved to follow
them when Draco grabbed her arm. “Potter,” he hissed. “Answer me.”

“I know you don’t understand why I like them,” she huffed. “But I do. If you can’t come to
terms with that then…maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Shrugging him off, she ran after Hermione and Ron, still clutching her broomstick and not
daring to look behind her. She didn't want him to see that she was already crying. 'I thought
he was going to be different this year', she thought as she caught up to Ron and Hermione.
Throwing her broomstick to the ground, she wrapped Hermione in a tight hug on the outskirts
of Hagrid's hut.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered into Hermione's shoulder. "I didn't- I don't even know
what it means."

"Mudblood's a derogatory term for someone that some Purebloods think are unworthy to
practice magic. Someone with non-magical parents. Someone like me," Hermione
whimpered.

Harry's heart sank at the realisation. Draco had called Hermione that, knowing full-well what
it meant. Draco certainly cared about magical blood, but seemed fine with having a half-
blood for a girlfriend. Although that may have something more to do with the fact she was
famous. She hugged Hermione tighter, trying to will herself not to think about what Draco
might really think of her. 'Does he really think my mother was nothing?'

"I'll kill him," Ron growled.

Harry rolled her eyes, "You will not. Where would we hide the body?"

Hermione laughed, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. "I can't believe you
slapped him."

"He'll get over it," she replied with a shrug, already knowing that Draco wasn't likely to
forget what she'd done. She wasn't looking forward to heading back to the common room
anytime soon, not to mention the fact she'd just bailed on Quidditch practice. Flint was going
to have her head.
 Trouble in Paradise

Draco wasn’t talking to her. He hadn’t talked to her since she’d slapped him and he’d called
Hermione a ‘mudblood’. He had successfully avoided her when she came back to the
common room, or rather Flint had punished her by making her do laps around the pitch for
missing practice so she wasn’t back till late. He didn’t sit next to her in lessons so now she sat
beside Blaise Zabini who didn’t reveal a thing about how mad Draco was. She hated that all
Slytherins seems to be better at hiding their emotions than she was.

Harry, on the other hand, was still furious at him. Harry had been fiercely protective of her
parents’ memory, from Aunt Petunia’s little digs to Snape’s sneering. Her parents weren’t to
be touched, and she thought that Draco knew that. That he knew not to insult her parents’
memory like that, even indirectly. Yet, somehow it was Harry that ended up in detention for
it. Apparently Snape didn’t like the idea of condoning violent behaviour when his godson
was the one being struck. Hermione had still pulled a face as if to say ‘well you did break the
rules’ after Snape had found them. Harry would have appreciated a bit more loyalty from her,
but figured she only liked breaking the rules if it was a life-or-death situation.

As far as Harry was concerned though, helping Lockhart answer his fan-mail was a life-or-
death situation. One where death seemed more preferable. She scowled at the pile on the desk
that Lockhart was happily making his way through.

“Ah, young love,” he sighed. “You won’t be the first celebrity to get their young heart
broken, Harriet. But you’ll be all the better for it.”

Harry scoffed, “Oh, yeah? How?”

“Fame is a fickle thing, you can’t always bring people up there with you. Maybe young Mr
Malfoy can’t cope with the pressure of having a famous girlfriend.”

“He’s dealt with it just fine, Professor. Anyway, that’s not why we’re fighting,” she sniffed
before opening another letter. “He called Hermione a ‘mudblood’.”

Lockhart froze before he flashed an uneasy smile at her. “Ah, well-yes-that sort of behaviour
will certainly not be tolerated by the press. Best to be rid of him before he ruins your
reputation.”

“What reputation?”

As Lockhart began talking about her notoriety, Harry heard a voice almost like a hiss. Let me
rip you up. Kill. Kill. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That-that voice.” Harry looked around the room uneasily, searching for the owner of the
voice. “Didn’t you hear it?”
“Sorry? I think you might be getting a little drowsy there. Great Scott- look at the time. No
wonder you’re getting tired. Four hours truly have flown by,” he chuckled.

Harry didn’t answer, instead she nodded politely as he escorted her out of his office. He made
some comment about him not giving her such special treatment next time she got detention,
which she chose to ignore. There was no way she was getting detention with Lockhart again.
She’d rather sort through Snape’s underwear.

----

Standing in a pool of water beneath a message in blood and the hanging petrified body of
Mrs Norris, Harry thought her evening couldn’t get any worse when the other students
appeared from the Great Hall. Draco was at the front of the mass, his eyes immediately
settling on her.

“Enemies of the heir, beware? You’ll be next. Mudbloods,” he sneered.

Anger rose up in Harry and she moved to strike him again, only to be held back by Ron.
“Come on, mate, he’s not worth it.”

Harry seethed as she shrugged out of his hold, wanting nothing more than to tackle Draco to
the ground and make him see why she was so mad at him. Then she heard the telltale growl
of Filch as he made his way through the crowd and decided that tonight she was definitely
going to die.

----

Harry was going to buy Dumbledore a very big box of Bertie Botts for protecting her from
Filch’s wrath. Harry had never been much of a cat person but Mrs Norris was positively evil
with her red eyes and the fact that she was Filch’s. She’d never seen Filch cry like that, it was
almost unnerving to watch him sob as he threatened her. The fact that Snape had leapt to her
defence was an even bigger mystery, even if had sneered as he did so. Lockhart had finally
become useful with defending her too, something she never thought she’d say.

As she crept inside the Slytherin common room though, she only had one thought on her
mind: she was going to kill Draco. That was twice now he’d used that word and each time he
had meant it. He was sat on the couches surrounded by other Slytherins whose heads snapped
up to watch her as she came towards them. She seethed at the sight of Pansy Parkinson's arm
draped over his shoulders.

“See Snape let you off,” Draco sniffed. “Didn’t take you for a cat killer, Potter.”

“You and me. We’re done.”

Draco froze. “I beg your pardon?” he asked coolly.

“That’s the second time you’ve used that word. So we’re done,” she hissed. “I can take you
being a git to my friends, but when you use a slur meant against muggleborns, then I can’t be
with you anymore.”
Pushing Pansy's arm off of him, Draco stood up and snapped, “Why does that matter?”

“My mother was a muggleborn, remember?” she cried. “You know, the one who died
protecting me. So, excuse me if I have a bit of an issue about it.”

Draco’s eyes widened, as if it had only just occurred to him why she was so angry. “Oh.”

Tears pricked Harry’s eyes as she scoffed, “Merlin, you can’t even pretend to be sorry, can
you? You know, I actually thought you were alright. But no, you’re just like the Dursley’s.”

“I am nothing like them!” he roared.

“Oh yeah? You know what my aunt called my mum? A freak. A freak for having magic and
you-you call her a mudblood.”

“I never called your mum anything.”

“No, but you called Hermione it. My muggleborn friend, Draco. Merlin! What would you be
like if my mum was alive, huh? Would you call her one too?” she cried as the tears began to
fall down her cheeks.

Draco grabbed her by the shoulders. “I’d never call your mum that.”

“But you’d think it, wouldn’t you?” Draco said nothing. “We’re done, Draco. Unless you can
promise me you’ll never use that word again.”

“I-” Draco’s voice faltered.

Harry shook her head and pushed him away from her before running to the girl’s dormitories.
In the comfort of her dormitory, she began to sob into her pillow as she wished that Draco
would change his mind.

----

Ron looked at her with his mouth hanging open as they sat in the Library together. “You-you
actually dumped him?”

“Yes,” Harry groaned.

The Library was packed, and Hermione was annoyed that so many had checked out
Hogwarts: A History before she could. She was currently rummaging through the stacks
looking for other books to put together a conspiracy about what was happening, leaving
Harry to quietly inform Ron about her breakup.

“Like in front of everyone?”

“Yes.”

Ron scratched his head. “How the bloody hell did he let you get away with that? I would
have thought he’d get Snape to give you detention or something if you dumped him.”
Harry turned the page of the textbook she was reading and sighed, “Jury’s still out on that.
Potions isn’t till tomorrow.”

“Bloody hell. I mean, good for you like but-bloody hell!”

Hermione dumped a pile of books on the table and huffed, “What’s he going on about now?”

“I dumped Draco last night.”

Hermione’s eyes widened slightly. “Because he used that word again.” Harry nodded. “Fair
enough.”

Ron turned to her and muttered, “That’s it? She just dumped Slytherin’s golden boy. How has
she not been like thrown from the team or something? We’ve got to sneak her into Gryffindor
Tower or something. They might kill her in her sleep.”

“I don’t think they’re that well-organised to cover up a murder to be honest,” Harry sighed.
“Besides, it’d be pretty obvious who did it.”

“Harry, you cannot go back there! It’s like leading a lamb to slaughter.”

Harry glanced at Hermione. “Why does Ron think I’m going to get murdered?”

“Actually, I think the whole school thinks that you’re a murderer still so you should be alright
for a while,” Hermione said without looking up from her book.

Ron groaned into his hands, “You girls are gonna be the death of me.”

Harry smirked before returning to her book. She knew what Ron meant, of course. The
Slytherin’s liked to stick together and at breakfast it was very easy to see who was on whose
side. Draco was flocked by his usual cronies, not daring to look at her throughout the whole
meal. Harry was too busy purposefully ignoring him though to pay him that much attention.
She imagined it would go on like this for a while until one of them move on or he begged for
forgiveness. She didn’t know which version of events she preferred.

----

Harry didn’t know what to think after hearing about the Chamber of Secrets. ‘Another
monster in the castle? She thought. ‘What is Dumbledore thinking?’ She still wasn't over the
fact that they'd managed to smuggle in and out Fluffy last year. How on earth they had
managed to get the beast inside that room was beyond her. Now there was something else
lurking within the castle that nobody was sure even existed. She ran a hand through her hair
as she hurried alongside Hermione and Ron.

“Hmm, lets think? Who do we know who hates muggleborns and is a git?” Ron muttered
dryly as they caught sight of Draco and his goons.

Hermione glowered at the blonde's back as he walked ahead of them. “You’re talking about
Malfoy.”
“Well, you heard him! ‘You’ll be next, mudbloods’. Harry, tell her!” he whined.

Harry sighed, “Honestly? I don’t think he’s behind this.”

“Harry!” Ron groaned. “His family’s been in Slytherin for years. Hell, his dad could have
told him all sorts on how to open it.”

Shaking her head, Harry avoided Draco’s gaze. “I don’t know. Calling people names, sure,
but killing them? That’s not Draco at all. Especially when he’d be one of the prime suspects.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. “You know, there is a way we could find out for sure,”
Hermione piped up. “But it would be dangerous. Not to mention breaking at least fifty school
rules.”

“Since when has that ever stopped us?” Harry smirked as Hermione led them back to the
Library. She glanced over at Draco's retreating form and had to look away quickly as she
realised he was watching her too.
 Of Broken Bones and Hearts
Chapter Notes

In which Harry has had enough of Lockhart, and Draco is being unusually sweet for an
ex.

The whole school had heard about their breakup. The students watched them warily between
whispers in the Great Hall and the corridors, whilst the teachers did their best to keep them
apart. Luckily, Flint and the other members of the Slytherin team cared very little about her
relationship status and more about whether or not she could catch a snitch when Flint gave
her the signal to actually look for it. Of course, nothing ever really went Harry’s way and
when she rose on her broom before the crowd of students and teachers, she saw Draco glaring
at her.

Flint flew closer to her. “Focus, Potter. You can have a lovers’ spat after we win.”

Harry huffed and pushed her glasses further up her nose, “Your arrogance knows no bounds.”

Flint grinned as he flew away, winking over at Oliver Wood who bristled at the sight of his
rival. Harry took in a deep breath and steadied herself on her broom as she waited for the
whistle to go.

-----

Harry screamed as she tumbled onto the sand beneath the ongoing game, her arm now
hanging at a strange angle and the snitch secured firmly in her hand. She held up the snitch,
waiting for the whistle when the Bludger appeared again trying to launch itself at Harry’s
body. She dodged out of the way before Hermione managed to get rid of it as she and the
others ran onto the pitch. As she attempted to sit up, she noted the flash of blonde hair
coming towards her.

“Draco?” she muttered before her eyes adjusted and she realised it was Lockhart hurtling
towards her. “Oh hello no!”

Despite her attempts to crawl away from him, Lockhart knelt before her with his wand
prepared. “Don’t worry, Harriet, I can get that arm mended in an instant.”

“No, anyone but you!” she moaned. She looked for help in Hermione and Ron who stood
over her. “I think it’s quite a good look for me actually. No need for any charm.”

“Poor girl, doesn’t know what she’s saying,” he cried worriedly before he muttered a spell
straight at her arm.
Harry winced as she watched her bones disappear. “What the hell is that?!” she yelled, her
voice echoing throughout the pitch.

“Well that can happen sometimes. On the plus side, no bones are broken. Why don’t you
toddle up to the Hospital Wing now?” Lockhart said uneasily as he watched her bend her arm
easily in two.

Anger welled up in Harry as she snarled, “There’s no bones left, you moron!”

Hermione and Ron quickly got her to her feet, Ron’s hand doing its best to cover her mouth
as she tried her best to hurl insults at Lockhart.

-----

Skele-Gro was disgusting as Harry found out as she was quickly deposited in a hospital bed
by Ron and Hermione with a glass of the stuff being shoved down her throat. Hermione had
helped her out of her gear the best she could with only one arm, and Ron avoided looking at
her as he collected it all. It was only after they had left to inform the others she wasn’t dead,
that Harry realised she didn’t have anything to wear. She was in her underwear and a vest she
wore under her quidditch gear for warmth. She huffed as she flung her head back against the
pillow. At times like these, she wished they were in the same house.

-----

Harry woke up an hour later to find a pair of her pyjamas laid out on the chair beside her bed
and a bouquet of lilies in a vase at her bedside. A warm feeling overcame her at the sight of
them. Madame Pomfrey appeared with another dose of Skele-Gro and the taste was so awful,
she forgot to ask who had sent them.

-----

After a long night of bone-growing, Dobby and the discovery of Colin Creevey, Harry was
relieved when Madame Pomfrey announced she could return to class. Ron and Hermione
naturally appeared to help her walk down to the dungeons on her now weak legs.

“Oh by the way, Lockhart’s in big trouble, you know?” Ron grunted as he helped her down
the stairs to the Slytherin common room.

Harry smirked, “Good, the git could have killed me. Dumbeldore yell at him in his office?”

“No, not with Dumbledore. With Mr Malfoy.”

Harry paused at the door. “Mr Malfoy? Why would he know what happened?”

“Harry, he was there at the match. He came to watch you play.”

“Why?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Apparently Malfoy hadn’t told his dad you guys had broke up. Weird though,” Ron
muttered. “Even after he got told, he told Dumbledore if you wanted to take things further
legally, he’d be more than happy to represent you.”

Hermione smirked, “I think that might have been more Draco than his father actually.
Seamus heard him after the match. The others had to stop him from running onto the pitch
after you.”

Harry leaned her head against the door and sighed, “Guess he’ll never stop suprising me,
huh?”

“He’s still a git though,” Ron added as the pair turned to walk away.

“Oh, I know that. Don’t you worry,” she chuckled. As Harry murmured the password for the
dormitory, she wondered if she could be tempted to take up Lucius’ offer.

-----

Harry wanted Lockhart fired. Struck off from whatever list teachers had to be on or whatever.
Just gone. It was all his fault this happened. First the broken bones, now this. Harry knew it
was only a matter of time till Draco and her butted heads again. Somehow, she didn’t think
Lockhart and Snape would be the cause of it. The idea of a duelling club had intrigued her
until she locked eyes with Draco across the room and realised there was a chance he’d see her
land on her backside as Snape had managed to do to Lockhart.

“Right-o. Let me see -oh, Harriet! You’ll do.” Lockhart cried out as he selected a student to
demonstrate.

Harry wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do entirely, apart from the rushed set of spells
Hermione whispered into her ear. Then Snape selected Draco and her heart sank a little. He
looked almost gleeful as he hopped onto the platform whilst Ron had to all but push her onto
it as the crowd erupted into interested mutterings. ‘Duelling with my ex in front of the whole
school,’ she thought as she withdrew her wand from her pocket. ‘Mother would be so proud’.

“Scared, Potter?” he hissed.

“You wish.”

All of their rage and heartache seemed to fill each spell they flung at each other, their wands
cutting through the air like knives as spell after was cast. Lockhart watched it from behind
Harriet with a wary look as he noted the way the pair seemed to mirror each other in their
stances. He wondered just for a moment if this was a bad idea after all.

“Serpensortia!”

The snake landed on the ground in front of Harry and yet Harry barely flinched at the sight of
it as it rose up, hissing its tongue wildly at her.

“Don’t worry, Potter, I’ll take care of it,” Snape sighed wearily.

The snake started moving towards one of the other students. Justin, Harry thought his name
was. She stepped forward and stretched out her arm towards it, before muttering slowly to it.
It turned it’s head back to look at her, acknowledging her words just like the snake had done
at the zoo a year ago. Harry kept her gaze locked with the snake as it moved then towards her
towards her outstretched hand, wrapping itself along her arm with its head atop her wrist. She
held the snake up in amazement, noting the calmness of the beast at it rested around her. It
didn’t tighten its hold on her, just lay there in contentment.

“Harry?”

She glanced to the side to find Draco staring at her in amazement. “What?”

Looking around the room, she found everyone staring at her. Even Snape looked bewildered
by what had transpired before he was storming over to her and removing the snake from her
arm.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Justin snapped.

Draco was quick to run after Harry as she darted away, scared she had done something wrong
again. Grabbing her hand, he pushed her against the wall before the steps to the dungeon.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed.

“What are you talking about? Let go of me!”

Draco adjusted her glasses on her face and forced her to look at him. “Potter, do you know
what happened just then?”

“I told the snake not to attack Justin,” she replied weakly.

Shaking his head, he muttered, “That-that’s not what it looked like. It sounded like you were
egging it on.”

“But-but I wasn’t!” she spluttered.

Rolling his eyes, he pushed away from the wall. “And since when could you talk to snakes?!”

“I dunno. I mean, I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once-”
At Draco’s alarmed stare, she added: “Once!”

“And I thought I knew you.”

Harry shrugged, running a hand through her hair to to fix it. “So what? I bet tons of kids can
do it here.”

“Oh, no they can’t. Barely anybody in the wizarding world can,” he muttered dryly.

For a moment, Harry thought she could hear a stampede of footsteps which suddenly
stopped. Draco pulled her back around to face him though, “Harry, listen to me. You’re a
Parseltongue. It means you can speak to snakes. No one else an understand you but other
Parseltongues when you talk like that.”
Worry filled Draco’s silver eyes, and Harry paled at the thought. He had been furious with
her a minute ago and now here he was fretting over her.

“I spoke another language? But – how can I speak another language without realising it? And
what does it matter anyway?”

Draco huffed, “Look, the reason our house’s symbol is a snake is because Salazar Slytherin
was a Parseltongue, ok? He was famous for it. Now, the whole school’s going to be blowing
things out of proportion as usual and thinking you’re his great-great-granddaughter or
something.”

“But I’m not…am I?”

Rolling his eyes, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “Potter, the man lived a thousand
years ago. I am not – I repeat not- going through your family tree with you to prove
otherwise.”

He moved away from her to head down the stairs when she grabbed his hand. “Wait! Why
are you helping me?” she asked softly.

“You’re still a Slytherin. Albeit one who doesn’t know her history.”

“Oh, like you would know any of this if your family hadn’t been coming here for centuries,”
she scowled.

Hearing a noise, Harry looked around the corner to find the rest of the Slytherins had created
a blockade, preventing the likes of Lavender Brown and other nosey students from getting
anywhere near them. A small smile crept on Harry’s lips before she followed Draco down the
steps to the dungeon.

-----

Harry lay on the grass with her head in Hermione’s lap as she considered what being a
Parseltongue meant. For one, it made complete sense that the boa constrictor had started
telling her its life story now. Although, everyone had been giving her weird looks ever since.
She didn’t know what to think about that. They always seemed to be watching her, whether
because she was dating Slytherin’s golden boy or because they thought she was the
descendant of the outcast founder.

“I don’t know which is weirder,” Ron murmured. “Malfoy being nice to you after you
dumped his sorry butt or you being a Parseltongue.”

Harry snorted, “I don’t think it’s that weird.”

“Oh no, you’re not thinking of getting back with him, are you?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Hermione smiled knowingly, “You like the fact he ran after you, don’t you?”
“No!” Harry blushed profusely. “I just- was getting used to him, that’s all.”

Ron ran a hand over his face in anguish. “He’s probably setting a creature on the whole
school and you wanna date him?”

“He isn’t the heir,” she huffed. “He wouldn’t be that obvious.”

Harry settled back into Hermione’s lap as she listened to Ron rant about all of Draco’s flaws
and how he would make a perfect villain. She smiled as she realised that Draco would
probably make a terrible villain considering the amount of times he’d fretted over her.

-----

Everyone was looking at Harry different now except for the Slytherins who treated her just as
they usually did. Apparently, after the incident at Duelling Club, the entire school now
thought she was the heir to Slytherin. Fred and George, at least, found it hilarious that people
thought she was capable of that. Harry was glad somebody believed her outside of Hermione
and Ron, and even they smiled nervously at her during class sometimes.

As she felt people staring at her during study hall, Harry sighed and left the room without
another word. Tears pricked her eyes as she held her books closely to her chest. She hated
this feeling. It was as if they all thought she would lash out at them now, even though she’d
managed perfectly fine all of First Year not to kill anyone. Well, Quirrell didn’t exactly count
and he didn’t so much die as disintegrate.

“Potter!”

Harry paused, looking behind her to find Draco storming down the corridor after her. “What
do you want, Malfoy?” she hissed, wiping at her tears.

He stopped in front of her and huffed, “Just stand still for a minute.”

He then pulled her to him by her robes, making her drop her books in the process, and
placing a kiss onto her lips. Harry gasped, but he just pressed more firmly against her.
Releasing her lips, he rested his forehead against hers and sighed, “Why are you crying?”

“Everyone thinks I’m the heir.”

“You’re not.”

Harry scoffed, “How do you know?”

“You don’t get up early enough to sneak out and when you do sneak out, you’re usually with
Weasley and Grainger. Plus, judging from your little outburst the other day, I doubt you’re
trying to kill muggleborns,” he muttered.

“How come you can see that and no one else can?”

Draco shrugged. “I told you we were surrounded by idiots.”

Harry paused, looking at him from beneath her tear-clogged eyelashes. “You-you’re not the
heir, are you?”

“No,” he replied softly. “But then, you already knew that.”

A smile graced her lips as she replied, “Yes, but I just wanted to confirm it. Ron is adamant
you are.”

“Well, I’m glad to exonerate myself from your enquiries.” He paused. “You’re not
investigating again, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last time you three got curious about something, you nearly died,” he said sternly. “I
thought I told you not to be so reckless again.”

Harry rolled her eyes and adjusted her glasses. “I’m not doing anything. We’re merely trying
to prove my innocence.”

Draco looked unconvinced but nodded all the same before turning on his heel. “Guess I’ll
leave you to that then.”

“Wait! I-why did you kiss me?” she asked hesitantly.

Draco stilled. “I guess I missed the feeling of it.”

Harry watched as he walked away with wide eyes before she ran after him and pulled him
into another kiss. Draco froze before leaning into the kiss.

“I miss being your girlfriend,” she whispered.

“I miss being your boyfriend.” He glanced at her. “Why aren’t I?”

“Because you’re an ass who called my best friend a racial slur and haven’t apologised for it.”

Draco huffed, “Is that your only reason?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

 The Heir of Slytherin
Chapter Notes

You didn't think I'd be that cruel to keep them apart, did you? ;)

Inspired by this TikTok I found:https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMF82TBhJ/

Everyone at Gryffindor’s table was surprised when Hermione Granger was gifted a beautiful
hand-bound first edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them one morning at
breakfast. A week had gone by since Draco had kissed Harry, and a small smile crept on her
lips as she watched Hermione’s face light up as she unboxed the carefully wrapped book.
Inside the book was a small note that read ‘Actions speak louder than words. M’. Hermione
met Harry’s gaze and they shared a knowing look before Harry moved down the table to plop
herself next to Draco.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and swung her legs over the bench. “I suppose I should have a
go about you using your money over actually apologising, but I’m not. So, thank you.”

Draco avoided her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry smirked, “Whatever you say, Draco.” She laid her hand over his and smiled broader as
she felt his hand twist to hold it properly. He squeezed it tightly as the stream of onlookers
turned their attention to the couple and the whispers erupted once more.

----

Harry was sick of whispers. Of ones no one else could hear, and the ones they made no
attempt at hiding around the school. She hated every single person in Hogwarts who talked
about her like they knew her, accusing her of being the heir to Slytherin. In the days since
Justin Finchley-Fletcher had been found petrified, it had only got worse. The only person
who seemed to be enjoying it was Draco. He thought the idea was hilarious and broke out
into laughter every time they overheard someone talking about her. All the Slytherin’s did,
but somehow that just made the rest of the school more wary of her. In a way, it was nice
knowing her house knew she wasn't involved in what was happening. On the other hand, they
were also very good at mocking her. Maybe to them, it was a big joke. Harry certainly didn't
think it was.

“I wish you were a bit more supportive about this, you know?” she muttered bitterly as she
held hands with Draco down the corridor. Crabbe and Goyle, and Blaise walked alongside
them as they usually did. It almost felt like she was walking with a posse or bodyguards.
Everyone was watching her warily as they walked down and Harry just wanted to hide under
Draco's cloak. Draco however, winked and waved at anyone he noticed talking about her.
Draco glanced back at Blaise and smirked, “Oh? Alright then.” Snapping his fingers, Harry
squealed as Crabbe and Goyle lifted her onto their shoulders like some makeshift throne.

“Move, peasants!” Draco yelled.

“Make way for the heir of Slytherin!” Blaise cried out.

The pair burst into a fit of laughter as everyone paled and rushed out of their way in fear.
Some of the older students rolled their eyes, not taking them too seriously which Harry was
thankful for.

“Malfoy!” she screeched. “Put me down this instant!”

Draco paused and shrugged. “Alright then.”

Harry stumbled as she jumped off Crabbe and Goyle’s shoulders, falling into Draco’s waiting
arms. Scowling, she muttered, “That’s not what I meant by be supportive and you know it.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t expect me not to have a little fun with this,” he smirked.

"And whose idea was that?" she snapped.

Blaise clapped a hand on Draco's shoulder. "We've been working on that for about -what- two
weeks? We figured you'd forgive him sooner or later."

Harry looked back with a glare at Draco. “I hate you.”

“Lies. You love me.”

Instead of answering him, she pecked him on the lips. If she loved him, would she be letting
her friends brew Polyjuice Potion because they didn’t trust him? She inwardly shrugged.
Nothing ever really made a lot of sense at Hogwarts. She doubted relationships were much
different.

----

Ron pouted as they sat in the middle of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom as Hermione happily
brewed Polyjuice Potion. “How come she got a book from him then?”

“Because I told him I wouldn’t get back with until he apologised,” Harry sighed.

“Yeah, but he didn’t apologise, did he?”

Harry handed Hermione the booneslang. “Hermione, do you feel he’s apologised?”

“For Malfoy, certainly. Do you have any idea how much that book would cost?” She paused.
“How did he find a copy anyway?”

Harry shrugged. “Mr Malfoy’s very invested in our relationship apparently.”

The potion bubbled away furiously in front of Hermione who watched the pair with curious
eyes. “Perhaps I should start making a list of things Mr Malfoy will pay for every time his
son insults me.”

Harry adjusted her glasses with a sly grin, “That’s my girl.” She looked down at the potion.
“You know, he already told me he isn’t the heir, right? We don’t need to keep making this.”

“And you believe him?!”

Rolling her eyes, Harry decided it was easier allowing them to continue brewing the potion.
Ron might not trust Draco, but she did. If there was another attack, she’d at least be able to
prove it wasn’t him. If only she could put a tracker on Draco of some kind.

----

It was a simple enough plan. Harry would let Hermione and Ron into the Slytherin common
room and be there to cover up any slip-ups. As she looked down at the putrid-looking potion,
she decided she had the best job. There was no way she was going to drink that. She adjusted
her Slytherin tie in the mirror and smirked. Although, she did enjoy messing with Draco so
she wasn’t objecting to this little deception too much. She watched as Hermione and Ron
rushed into the bathroom stalls after downing their potions, the glasses now smashed against
the bathroom floor. When one bathroom stall opened, she found herself looking into the eyes
of Blaise Zabini. The real Blaise lay asleep in a broom cupboard along with Millicent
Bulstrode courtesy of a sleeping draft of Hermione’s design. For a moment, Harry wondered
just how morally dubious Hermione was as she watched Ron touch his face hesitantly.

“H-Harry?”

“You look great,” she muttered dryly.

Ron frowned, “Thanks.”

Harry snickered before knocking on Hermione’s stall. “You’re on in five, Miss Minelli.”

“Um, I-go on without me. It won’t last long without a second dose.”

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing! I swear, I’m fine. Just get going.”

With a final shrug, the pair left Hermione alone in the bathroom and headed down to the
Slytherin common room.

--

“This is weird,” Ron muttered as he entered the common room behind Harry.

“If it helps, I’m rooting for you,” she replied dryly.

“You don’t think it’s weird I’m in here?”

“I think it’s weirder you’re whispering in my ear. You think Draco lets his friends whisper in
my ear like we’re besties?” she hissed.

“Blaise! What the hell are you doing?”

Harry shot Ron a pointed look before turning to face a scowling Draco. “You really are a
possessive one, aren’t you? Blaise was just telling me there’s poll going on how long till I
attack another muggleborn.”

Draco rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist. “I swear if I didn’t think
you’d hex me for it, I’d make this a wonderful PR moment.”

“I’m twelve, you idiot. I have no image.”

“And that is the kind of attitude that won’t get you on the cover of Wizarding Weekly.” Draco
led them over to the sofas where he quickly pulled Harry against him. “You know, I’m
surprised the Daily Prophet hasn’t reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore’s
trying to hush it all up. He’ll be sacked if it doesn’t stop soon. And people actually think this
one is the heir!”

“But you must have some idea on who’s behind it all,” Ron tried weakly.

“You know I haven’t, Blaise. I told you a hundred times by now,” he snapped. “Father won’t
tell me anything about the last time either. He only said the last time the Chamber was open,
a mudblood died-”

Harry screeched at the use of the word and smacked his chest. “Ow! Sorry. Merlin.”

It was perfect timing as when Harry glanced back at Ron, she saw the redness begin to return
to his hair. In a panic, she pretended to storm off. Ron muttered under his breath, “I’ll go after
her, mate.”

The pair of them then ran out of the common room and all the way back to Moaning Myrtle’s
bathroom. Ron could just about walk in Blaise’s shoes and his robes hung off his figure,
Blaise being much taller than Ron, by the time they knocked on Hermione’s stall.

“Hermione, I was right!”

“Oh, fine! Your boyfriend isn’t the heir,” Ron sighed. “That doesn’t mean I have to like the
git.”

“I never said you had to!”

“Go away!” Hermione squeaked.

The pair looked at each other warily. “What-?”

The lock slid back and Hermione emerged from the stall crying. Her face was covered in
black fur, her eyes slanted and yellow, and a pair of long pointed ears poked through her
bushy hair.
“It was cat hair I pulled off Millicent’s robes,” she said glumly. “Just look at my face.”

“Hermione…” Harry sighed.

“You’ve got a tail!” Ron guffawed. He quickly became silent after Harry hit him in the
stomach, and instead assisted Harry in convincing Hermione out of the bathroom to the
Hospital Wing.

----

Draco frowned at Harry as they sat next to each other in Potions. “Why am I hearing Granger
turned herself into a cat?”

“Cats are dignified creatures,” Harry sniffed. “Who wouldn’t want to be one?”

“What are you three up to?”

Harry looked back at him with as much innocence as she could project. “Up to? Whatever do
you mean, darling?”

Draco looked unconvinced but shrugged anyway and returned his attention to Snape’s lesson.
Halfway through the lesson, he whispered: “Just don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

Harry glanced at him and nodded softly, not pausing her quill for a moment as she wrote her
notes. A small smile graced her lips at his small sign of affection.
 My Sweet Valentine

The diary of Tom Riddle had a strange pull to it that Harry couldn’t quite explain. It felt so
easy talking to his ghost. Spirit. Whatever you wanted to call it. Harry felt like she could tell
him anything. ‘But then why did someone try and flush it?’ she thought as she traced the
initials again. He had helped clear up the little mystery around what happened the last time
with the Chamber, but not much else. She still couldn’t believe Hagrid had anything to do
with it, thought she knew he wasn’t allowed to do magic anymore. He had never told her
why. Harry sighed, leaning her head back against the leather of the common room sofas.

“Potter, put down that book. We need to talk Valentine’s Day,” Draco demanded as he entered
the common room.

“Hello to you, Draco,” she huffed as she shut the diary.

Draco rolled his eyes as he slumped on the sofa opposite her. “Now, what were you thinking?
I could get Father to take us out of school for the day and we could go see one of those
Muggle movies you like. Or I guess I could take you shopping on the weekend.”

Harry blinked in confusion. “I-I hadn’t really thought about it.”

Frowning, Draco plucked the diary from her grasp and examined it closely. “Why do you
have a plain diary?”

“Maybe I wanted to keep one,” she huffed and snatched it back.

“I wouldn’t advise that. Slytherins like to go through other people’s stuff,” he sniffed. “Oh,
and do you want to do presents or not?”

Harry huffed, “I guess. Merlin knows what I’m supposed to get you like.”

“Maybe you could dress up like a bunny for me,” he smirked. He winced when Harry hit his
arm with the diary but couldn’t stop from laughing either.

----

The walls were covered in large, lurid pink flowers and heart-shaped confetti fell down from
the ceiling of the Great Hall that Valentine’s Day. Lockhart wore pink robes to match the
decorations, twirling into the room much to the horror of the teachers and most of the
students. Harry had a niggling feeling that Hermione had indeed sent Lockhart a Valentine’s
that he happily lined up at his place at the table. Sighing, she tried not to wonder about Tom
Riddle. He seemed trustworthy enough with his soft brown locks and soulful eyes. ‘But does
that mean Hagrid is the heir?’

“Happy Valentine’s, Potter,” Draco muttered as he slid to sit next to her along the Slytherin
table.
Harry blinked out of her thoughts and smiled at the sight of him. “Happy Valentine’s Day,
Draco,” she said before kissing him softly.

“I got you something.” He placed a small parcel in front of her, anxiously avoiding looking at
her as she opened it.

The box contained a simple silver heart-shaped locket which had two photographs inside. On
one side was a photograph of her mum and dad holding her as a baby, smiling at the camera
as leaves fell down around them. In the other was a blushing Draco awkwardly smoothing
back his hair before smiling at the camera.

“I love it!” she grinned and kissed him again.

Blushing Draco shrugged, “Oh, it was nothing.”

“Where did you find a photograph of my parents?”

“I might have asked Grainger to help me copy one you had,” he replied whilst avoiding her
gaze.

“And you asked Hermione for help. You’re a changed man, Draco,” she giggled.

“Shut up!” he scowled. “Now what did you get me?”

Harry shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to wait till class is over,” she smirked before leaving a
stunned blonde boy in her wake as she headed for morning class.

----

Harry admired the locket with a fond smile as she waited for Draco to find her. He had been
glaring at her all day as he waited for classes to finish. He had tried to get some clues out of
her at dinner, but she had remained silent the entire time much to his annoyance.

“Alright, Potter. Hand it over,” he growled as he came to stand next to her.

With a shrug, Harry handed him the present she had been hiding in her robes all day long.
“You are a hard man to buy for, Malfoy.”

Draco eagerly opened the gift and grinned as he held up the tickets to the next Wimbourne
Wasps game. “I love the Wasps.”

“I know you do,” she smiled fondly. “Apparently they’re very good seats too.”

“How much did these cost?”

Harry tossed her hair back and sighed, “I’m the Girl Who Lived, Draco. Apparently, that
means I get discount on stuff like quidditch tickets.”

Draco chuckled, “I knew you were good for something.” He leaned over to press a kiss
against her lips. “Thank you, darling.”
Harry hummed in delight before pulling him onto the sofa next to her, manoeuvring him
quickly so that she was tucked against his chest. “You don’t have to take me with you by the
way,” she murmured softly.

“Nah, I will. Need to get you out of that house of yours. I’m sure my parents won’t mind you
staying for a few weeks. We could go out in London again.”

“Like a date?”

Draco glanced at her. “Yes, Potter, an actual date.”

Harry snuggled closer against him. “I’d like that.”

-----

Harry stood over Hermione’s petrified body, her blood boiling with rage as she took in the
frozen form of her best friend. ‘This…this shouldn’t have happened’, she thought with
clenched fists. She had let Hermione go the Library alone whilst she and Ron had been
waiting to down to the Gryffindor game against Hufflepuff. Next thing she knew,
McGonagall was bringing them both to the Hospital Wing.

Taking in a deep breath, Harry silently stormed out of the Hospital Wing and headed straight
for the Slytherin common room. Draco was sat at a desk with Blaise, going through their
Charms homework. “Malfoy!”

Blaise looked at Draco warily, “Mate, what did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, what did you do?”

Draco groaned, “I haven’t done anything!”

Harry stopped at Draco’s side, her fists shaking with rage. It was only then that Draco noticed
that her green eyes were filled with tears. Instantly, he was out of his chair and bringing her
into a hug.

“What happened?” he asked sternly.

“Hermione. She-she’s been petrified!” she sobbed into his shoulder.

The other Slytherins watched her with interest until Draco raised his head. “Leave the room.
Now!” he shouted and the Slytherins followed suit.

Once they were alone, Draco pulled away from her to look at her now-flushed face. “When?”

“Just-just then. McGonagall came to get me and Ron.” She paused. “Why is this happening?”

Draco said nothing. In his experience, whenever he talked about muggleborns, she usually
got annoyed at him and they fought. He’d only just got her back, so he was unlikely to be
parted from her again. So, he did the only thing he knew to do.

“I’ll write to Father.”

Harry blinked away her tears. “You will?”

Draco nodded. “Tell me what you want him to do.”

“I want the attacks to stop. Are you positive he doesn’t know anything about the Chamber?”

Shifting his feet nervously, he replied: “I don’t think so.”

Harry sniffed, “Guess that’s it then. Hogwarts will close and I’ll end up stuck at the Dursley’s
again.” She burst into harsh sobs again, tucking her head into his shoulder.

Draco held her tightly, petting her dark hair. “I won’t let that happen,” he muttered darkly. “I
don’t care if I have to bring you home with me and get you enrolled at Drumstrang with me.
I’m not leaving you there.”

Harry’s heart ached at the thought. She’d always wanted someone to whisk her away from
the Dursley’s. She didn’t realise it would be a possessive twelve-year-old though. Sighing
against him, she decided she didn’t mind it so much.
 A True Slytherin

‘Draco’s gonna kill me’, she thought as she entered the Chamber of Secrets. She wondered if
she disregarded his concerns for her safety because she liked the attention he gave her
afterwards, or did she simply not care. She noted Ginny’s unconscious body on the ground
and ran towards it, deciding to think on it later.

“She won’t wake up,” a voice echoed throughout the room.

Harry looked up and stilled at the sight of Tom Riddle before her. A perfect replication of the
memory he had shown her. Handsome, tall, and with a harsh look in his eyes. “Tom? Come
help me. We’ve got to get her out of here. The basilisk-”

“It won’t come until it’s called.” He moved towards her, bending down to tip her chin up.
“You are a curious girl, Harry Potter.”

A blush covered her cheeks as Tom traced her lips with his thumb, examining her green eyes
closely for a moment before moving away. Bewildered, she barely noticed him picking up
her wand.

“Give me my wand, you idiot. I’m not staying down here without some sort of defence,” she
huffed. When he didn’t move to hand it back, she stood to her full height. “Give me my
wand, Tom.”

As she looked into his cold eyes, she realised that in some ways she was still very naïve.

----

‘That could have gone better’, she thought begrudgingly as the venom spread through her,
drawing out every ounce of strength she had. Even with the beast dead, Tom still won. Ginny
still hadn’t woken up and here she was, the great Harry Potter trying hard to keep her eyes
open next to the pierced diary that leaked ink as if it was blood. Harry didn’t want to think of
Draco’s reaction when he found out. He’d probably tackle Ron for leaving her, cry to his
father to demand punishment for Lockhart for allowing it to happen as a ‘responsible’ adult.
A small smile crept on her lips as she turned her attention to Fawkes who cried above her and
the now-stirring Ginny.

----

Standing in Dumbledore’s office, Harry watched Ron disappear with Lockhart in tow before
turning her attention back to the headmaster. He watched her with a curious expression as she
tried her best to fix her robes. She was suddenly very conscious about her hair.

“And so you met Tom Riddle,” he said thoughtfully. “I imagine he was most interested in
you…”
With a small blush across her cheeks, Harry nodded. “Professor, he-Riddle said I’m like him.
Strange likeness, he said…”

“Did he now?” Dumbledore asked, looking thoughtfully under his silver eyebrows. “What do
you think?”

Harry bit her lip. “I don’t think I’m like him. But…there is something.” She paused. “In some
ways, we are similar. Parentless, think of Hogwarts as home-”

“And you’re both Parseltongues.”

She nodded. “I spoke one thing in Parseltongue and the whole school thought I was on a
killing spree.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it? I believe your house defended you most readily.”

“No, they didn’t,” she sighed.

Dumbledore shrugged. “I have a number of detention slips that beg to differ. A number of
hexes and pranks, even simple name-calling have all been made in your honour.” Harry
stared at him in disbelief. “Why do you question this?”

Harry glanced up at where the Sorting Hat was perched on one of Dumbledore’s shelves.
“Some days I don’t feel like I belong there. That the Sorting Hat made a mistake. It’s why
Draco and I started dating, so I had someone who understood the way they all thought. I’m
not a pureblood like they are. I don’t come from an old family like Draco does. I-I don’t
really fit in there.”

“If anything, Harry, I think this year has proven you do.”

Snorting, Harry avoided his gaze. “Gee, thanks, Professor.”

“Being in Slytherin doesn’t make you a bad person, Harry. No more so than being in any
other house. You have many of the qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his students.
Resourcefulness. Determination. Parseltongue. A certain disregard for the rules,” he added
with a chuckle.

“And, you can speak Parseltongue, because Lord Voldemort -who is the last remaining
ancestor of Salazar Slytherin- can speak Parseltongue. It is my belief that in his attempt on
your life, he transferred some of his powers to you. No intentionally, of course, but that’s how
it is.”

“So, I do belong in Slytherin,” she asked slowly.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at her. “Harry, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
And for all of Slytherin’s bad reputation, can you really say that you don’t admire them in
young Draco?”

A blush formed quickly across her cheeks. “No,” she admitted quietly.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t dwell too much on your place in this school. Besides, I don’t think
young Draco wants to be rid of you any time soon,” he chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing, just that Lucius Malfoy was in my office before you came in, ranting about
how I’d managed to lose the Girl Who Lived.”

Harry paled. “Where is he now?”

“Apparently he went to find his son.”

It was then that the office door sprung open to allow Lucius and Draco inside, closely
followed by a trembling Dobby. Lucius looked furious, his hand positioned on his son’s
shoulder as he led him into the office, and looked as if he was about to launch into another
tirade when his eyes locked on the blood and grime-covered form of Harry.

“Harry!” Draco cried and launched himself at her, uncaring for the mess. To her surpise, he
held her tightly to him as if he was afraid she’d disappear again. She hugged him back,
looking over his shoulder to see Lucius’ anger fade. Then, Draco pulled away to stare directly
into her eyes.

“What happened?” Draco quickly demanded after assuring himself she was real.

Harry blinked. “Basilisk in the plumbing, Voldemort’s soul hidden in a diary, nearly died
again, and saved Ginny.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I don’t normally look like this,” she muttered dryly. “Oh, and Lockhart lost his memory. So,
your dad doesn’t need to get him fired.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter. What did I say about nearly getting yourself killed?” he asked
sternly.

“Not to?”

“And did you listen?”

Harry gestured to herself and huffed, “You know I didn’t. In my defence, I didn’t know it was
Voldemort behind it.”

Draco winced at the name. “You knew it was last time, that didn’t stop you.”

“He attacked Hermione, what was I supposed to do?! She’s my best friend, I’m hardly going
to just sit here quietly whilst you got your dad to fire Dumbledore.”

Draco growled softly, “I didn’t get him to fire Dumbledore. I told him to get Lockhart fired.”
He glanced behind at his father with a scowl. “Apparently there was a bit of confusion.”
Harry hummed, unconvinced. “And did you also know that Dobby was the one who tried to
stop me coming back this year, huh? That bludger? That was him,” she snapped.

Draco and Lucius both glared down at the house elf, shouting: “What?”

Dobby cowered behind Lucius, smiling weakly up at them. “If Harry Potter returned to
school, then she would get hurt. Master Draco would be most upset if that happened.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco gritted through his teeth, “So you thought tampering
with a bludger that could have killed her would help matters?”

Harry hit Draco’s arm softly with a huff, “Don’t be mad at Dobby. This never would have
happened if your dad hadn’t brought the diary to Flourish and Blotts that day anyway!”

“What are you on about?” he scowled.

“Are you blind? He slipped it into Ginny’s-”

“Thank you, Headmaster. We really must be going,” Lucius cried suddenly. He shot a pointed
look to Harry before turning on his heel. “Come, Dobby.”

With a final look to Dumbledore, Harry followed the Malfoys out of the office and down to a
quiet corridor. Lucius paused and looked down at Harry with a pointed look.

“Harry,” he started slowly.

“I don’t care.” Lucius and Draco both blinked in disbelief, but she continued: “Mr Weasley
was working on a Muggle Protection Act and you don’t care for it or him. I get that. I do. But
your politics have just interfered with the safety of people I love. If it happens again, Mr
Malfoy, I will scream it to the whole Ministry,” she said with a harsh stare.

Lucius took in her appearance. This twelve-year-old girl with messy dark hair and beautiful
emerald-green eyes glared up at him beneath the grime and blood of a thousand-year-old
beast. He knew she was serious. Young as she was, she had an air of Machievalli about her.
She would destroy him, if she felt the need to.

“Why are you not doing so now?” he asked carefully.

“Because,” she huffed before taking Draco’s hand in hers. “I care about Draco. I know what
it’s like not to have parents, and if I can spare him that, I will.”

Lucius glanced at his son, who stared at this girl with eyes flooded with possessiveness and
adoration. Not an hour before, he had been consoling his son who had heard that his
girlfriend had disappeared, likely on another reckless scheme to save the school. Draco had
sobbed into his arms, begging his father to do what he had to in order to bring back this girl.

With a small smile, the elder Malfoy bowed his head. “As you wish, Miss Potter.”

Harry nodded, proud at her achievement, before glancing down at Dobby. “And one more
thing…”
 Something Wicked This Way Comes

Harry decided she hated summer. More specifically, she hated any summer that involved the
visit of Uncle Vernon’s sister. Even Petunia was on edge whenever Marge’s eyes clapped on
Harry’s skinny frame. Harry was never sure if it was because Petunia feared what provoking
a witch would do, or because she herself didn’t like what Marge had to say about Harry’s
parents. In an ideal world, Harry would have been at the Malfoy’s when this visit happened,
but Marge had brought her visit forward by two days. If Draco hadn’t been visiting relatives
himself, he would have happily let her come earlier, but she didn’t think he was even in the
country right now.

She dried the dishes slowly, trying her best to tune out Marge’s words. Not even Dudley was
paying her that much attention, which was saying something. Dudley used to love anyone
who fawned over him, but Harry imagined puberty had to hit him sometime. His blonde hair
reminded Harry of Draco’s and a part of her willed him to turn up to rescue her. His constant
letters helped throughout the summer months, and the phone calls from Ron and Hermione
too. She still longed for September though.

“A drunk too, I suppose?” Marge sneered.

“That’s a lie,” Harry snapped.

Petunia paled instantly as she noted the flickering lights around the kitchen and the rage
seething from Harry’s eyes. Harry didn’t care. Marge was pushing her limit. The glass in
Marge’s hand shattered, spilling wine over the tablecloth.

With a wary gaze, Vernon muttered, “Why don’t you head upstairs?”

Marge instead snapped her fingers at her, expecting her to clean it up. Harry didn’t move, but
Marge continued her rant. For a moment, Harry considered how easy it would be to make
Marge shut up once and for all. She could do it. She was powerful enough. She doubted the
Dursley’s could say anything to stop her. She paused. Draco would be very disappointed in
her though if she ended up in Azkaban prison for murder, she doubted that he'd be able to
visit her much. So, instead she imagined Marge floating away like a cantankerous balloon.

And then she did.

----

The Leaky Cauldron hadn’t changed much since she’d been there with Hagrid in her First
Year. Although, she didn’t think it was the sort of place that the Minister of Magic could be
found on a random weekend. Then again, she also thought that about three-headed dogs and
basilisks in a school so what did she know? He sat her down in front of the fireplace and
smiled warmly at her, which she found a little unnerving.

“Um, Minister. I don’t understand. Aren’t I in trouble?” she spluttered.

Fudge shook his head and laughed softly, “Harry, Harry, we don’t send people to Azkaban for
blowing up their aunts. On the other hand, running away like that was very irresponsible.
There are a great many people who care for your safety, Miss Potter. Myself included.”

Harry blinked. “Is this about Sirius Black?”

Fudge paled before quickly smiling down at her and ruffling her hair. “Oh, don’t you worry
about that. What matters is you’re safe and tomorrow, you’ll be back at Hogwarts.”

There was a knock on the door and Harry turned to find Lucius and Draco standing in the
doorway. “Minister,” he greeted with a polite smile.

“Ah, Lucius. As you can see, Miss Potter is safe and sound.”

Lucius’ eye twitched and he pursed his lips as if holding his tongue as he came over to place
a hand over Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you, Minister, but I think I should get Harriet to her
room.”

Draco looked worried, the same look came across his face every time she came back from the
Hospital Wing with more bruises and scars that she originally had. He’d shot up over the
summer too, forgoing the use of the hair gel he’d previously used to allow his blonde hair to
frame his face. Harry smiled up at him, wishing she could go back to their room and cuddle
rather than make small talk with the Minister of Magic.

“Of course,” Fudge nodded. “Do look after yourself, Harriet, dear.”

Harry stood from her chair and held her arm out for Hedwig to fly onto, hooting happily at
the sight of her mistress. As they walked out of the room, Draco hand immediately sought
hers, holding it tightly.

“Dare I ask how you knew where I was?” she muttered dryly as they stood on the landing.

“The Minister sent me a message to let us know you were here.” Lucius paused and frowned,
“Why did you come here over the Manor?”

“I thought you wouldn’t be home yet.”

“Well, we would have ideally stayed a little longer but-” He shot Draco a pointed look. “-
matters of the heart took precedence.”

Draco blushed, avoiding his father’s gaze. “Father,” he hissed.

Harry giggled, enjoying his embarrassment. “Guess you heard what happened then.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow, his lips tilting upwards in amusement. “Yes, for someone who has
lectured me on muggle rights before, I found it quite strange.”

“Technically she’s my uncle’s sister. No relation. Besides,” she sniffed. “She should know
better than insult my parents.”
Lucius smirked and led them down the stairs where Harry noticed her trunk and books were
being watched over by Tom. “I’ve taken the liberty of booking you a room at the Ritz with
us, Harry. I hope you don’t mind.”

Harry scoffed, “I take it the Leaky Cauldron isn’t up to your standards, Mr Malfoy.”

“It most certainly isn’t.”

-----

Hedwig flew in through the open window of Harry’s hotel room, hoping into her cage again
without protest as Harry closed the window behind her. She turned then to face Draco who
was watching her carefully from the bed. Lucius had left them alone to attend to something,
but all he had done was leave his son at the mercy of Harry’s curiosity.

“Ok,” she sighed. “Why is everyone being weird? First Fudge, now you. What’s going on?”

“How much do you about Sirius Black?” he asked.

Harry shrugged. “That he escaped from Azkaban. That he worked for Voldemort.”

Draco traced the patterns of the bedding nervously. “People think he broke out for a reason.
To get to you.”

“Me? Why would he want to kill me?”

Draco sighed, “How many times have I got to tell you? You’re the Girl Who Lived. Anyone
who was affected by You Know Who’s defeat wants to kill you, or at least seriously injured.”

“Charming,” she muttered dryly.

Draco placed a hand over her shoulder. “Don’t worry so much about it. Chances are he won’t
come near Hogwarts. Too much ground for him to cover.”

Harry shook her head lightly. “Draco, when has fate ever smiled kindly on me?” she sighed
wearily.

He kissed her cheek, wrapping himself around her and plastered his chest to her back. “I
don’t know. I think we’re doing alright.”

Harry hummed in agreement and kiss his chin. “Guess I can’t be too disappointed with my lot
then, can I?”

His silver eyes flickered to the bed then back to her, a wicked grin spreading across his lips.
“You know, we’ve never made out on a bed before. What better place to try it out than in the
Ritz?”

Turning around in his arms, she pressed a kiss to his lips and wrapped her arms around his
neck. ‘I’ve missed this’, she thought as he kissed her back. They stumbled blindly till Draco’s
legs hit the bed and he spun them around so that it was her that landed on her back against the
mattress. Draco then proceeded to press delicate kissed down her neck and collarbone.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured. “So much.”

“You’ve no idea how bad it is living with them.”

Draco paused. “I’d take you away if I could.”

Leaning back against the mattress, she sighed, “Maybe one day. We’ll get a house by the
beach or something.”

“There’s some nice ones in Devon. We can go looking when we finish school,” he smiled
warmly up at her. “But for now, Miss Potter, I need those lips back. I’ve missed them dearly.”

Harry giggled as Draco pulled her into another kiss. She smiled against his lips, content in the
knowledge that she’d be leaving for Hogwarts in the morning. She’d see Ron and Hermione
again, and she could kiss Draco whenever she wanted. ‘Life is good’, she thought.
 Not While I'm Around
Chapter Notes

Draco's not the only protective one in this couple... Jealous!Harry coming right up.

As Harry plopped herself down onto the Slytherin table, she found herself still being haunted
by the image of the dementors. Of the scream she heard seconds before passing out. She
wondered whose scream it was.

“Potter!” Draco hissed as he stood over her. “Why am I hearing you fainted?”

“Did you not see the dementors on the train?” she muttered dryly. “I don’t make a habit of
fainting, you know?”

Draco rolled his eyes and took his place beside her. “I leave you alone for a few hours so you
can go play with your muggleborns and you get attacked by a dementor. Honestly, I can’t
take you anywhere,” he huffed.

Harry adjusted her glasses and scoffed, “Apologies for the inconvenience, darling.”

“You’re ok though, yeah?” he asked softly.

Placing her hand over his, she squeezed it tightly. “Yeah, I’m good.”

-----

Watching the flames in the fireplace, Harry contemplated if Hogwarts was really as safe as
Dumbledore made it out to be. She used to think so, but now with dementors running about
the grounds looking for Sirius Black, she was having second thoughts. The school seemed to
be on some sort of lockdown and the teachers walked around on edge, collectively wary of
Harry’s safety.‘Why would he care about me?’ she thought. ‘Why now?’ For the life of her,
she couldn’t think why this criminal had dared break out now of all times. Unless word of her
two near-death experiences made him think he had a shot at killing her. Somehow, she
doubted it. For starters, if Voldemort, giant spiders, a basilisk or the memory of a young
psychopathic Voldemort couldn’t do it, she didn’t think a random wizard could.

“Do you want me to ask Father about getting you some protection?” Draco asked as he
plopped down next to her.

“Protection?”

“You know, like a bodyguard.”

Harry frowned, “I doubt anyone would listen to him. Besides, it’s not like I’m easy to kill.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he replied with a pointed look. “I know you don’t take your safety
seriously, but I do. School hadn’t even started yet and dementors tried to attack you. I’m not
losing you to some psycho.”

Smiling, Harry turned and placed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re not gonna lose me, Draco. If
last year’s taught you anything, it should be that I’m sticking around.”

Draco chuckled, “Yeah, I guess so. Not many girls would blackmail their boyfriend’s father.”

“It’s not blackmail. I didn’t get anything out of it,” she sniffed. “I just got Dobby freed.”

“We weren’t that bad to work for!”

“I’m not having this conversation again!”

The rest of the Slytherins exchanged looks of contentment. All was right with the world if
Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were bickering again. At least, that part of school life was
still normal.

-----

Ron was convinced that something was going on with Hermione, but Harry wasn’t really
paying that much attention. Her mind had been filled with thoughts of dementors and the
scream she heard when she fainted on the train. Draco had been lovely though, bickering with
her to keep her from thinking about it, and placing those kisses she loved so much on her
again and again throughout the day. She watched him saunter down to the woods with the
other Slytherins whilst she walked with Hermione and Ron down to their first lesson with
Hagrid. Harry was excited to see Hagrid in his first teaching role. He loved his animals, no
matter how ferocious they were. As long as he wasn’t introducing the class to his spider
friends then everything should be smooth sailing.

Draco leaned against a tree as the students gathered together and when Harry passed him, he
grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into him. He pecked her on the lips with a grin.
“Hey.”

“Hey,” she said with a blush.

“You feeling better today?”

She nodded, tucking her head under his chin. “I need to stop thinking about it so much, don’t
I?”

Draco hummed in agreement. “I mean, you know my position on the matter. I’d keep you in
the common room till this was over if I could.”

Harry chuckled, “Somehow, I don’t think I’d be a very happy prisoner.”

“Probably not,” he laughed softly.

Harry then turned her attention to Hagrid as he beamed down at his first class of the day.
Apart from when Norbert had been born, she didn’t think she’d seen him so happy and
couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I’ve got a real treat for you all,” Hagrid grinned. He then turned, presenting with a flourish a
grey-feathered hippogriff that stared at the class with yellow eyes. “Say hello to Buckbeak.”

“What is that?” Ron blurted out.

“That, Ron, is a hippogriff. Very noble creatures’ hippogriffs.” He then threw a dead ferret
from around his waist to the beast who gobbled it up greedily. “Easily offended they are.
Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”

Hagrid clasped his hands together in excitement as he turned back to the class. “Right-who
want to go first?”

Draco’s fingers lingered on her body as she slipped away to volunteer, much to Hagrid’s glee.
“Good girl, Harry! Now, first thing first is to bow. If he bows back, you can touch him. If he
doesn’t…well, we’ll get to that.”

Despite her initial fear at staring back at Buckbeak’s fierce eyes, she lowered herself into a
bow. The hippogriff stared haughtily back at her, as if determining her worth, then to
everyone’s shock the creature bent its front knees and bowed back.

“Well done, Harry!” Hagrid cried out, ushering her forward so to pet the beast.

Its feathers were soft, and as Harry stroked its forehead, the beast seemed to enjoy it.
Buckbeak almost purred at the feeling of her hand, and a smile broke out over Harry’s face.
She looked back at Draco, who was watching her warily.

“He’ll let you ride him now!”

Harry stilled. “Wait-Hagrid!” she screamed as Hagrid lifted her up to sit on Buckbeak’s back.
She wasn’t sure what to hold onto. This was nothing like a broomstick, and there weren’t any
reigns in sight. Hagrid slapped the hippogriff’s hindquarters and immediately, its wings
flapped open and Harry only had a moment to grab onto its neck before the pair were soaring
above the treeline. Harry laughed as they flew over the forest before gliding across the lake.
Buckbeak’s talons grazed the top of the Black Lake as Harry cried out in glee. She always
loved flying, but since being back at Hogwarts, she hadn’t had the chance to yet. But as she
flew back to the cluster of students, she found herself content in the fact that there wasn’t a
dementor in sight. The others applauded her as they touched down on the ground again,
hesitantly coming towards her. Draco was the only one not to join in. He simply stared at his
girlfriend as she beamed from atop the hippogriff before walking slowly over to her.

“What part of be careful, didn’t you understand?” he huffed.

“You know me, Draco, I love a challenge,” she grinned.

Draco bowed to the beast, which Buckbeak accepted so that Draco could come forwards and
lifted Harry off of its back. Harry patted Buckbeak’s neck fondly. “He’s magnificent, isn’t
he?”

The blonde boy scoffed, “He’s alright. Still an ugly brute though.”

It happened in an instant. Buckbeak reared up and slashed Draco’s arms with its talons,
causing the class to break out into screaming. Hagrid managed to shepherd Buckbeak away
from the students as Harry followed Draco to the ground.

“It’s killed me!” he whined.

Harry rolled her eyes. “You’re not dying, you idiot,” she muttered, yet still pressed down on
the wound to stop the bleeding the best she could.

Hagrid lifted Draco up instantly, though the groundskeeper was now very pale as he
nervously held his composure together. Harry looked down at her hands now covered in
Draco’s blood and swallowed thickly. This didn’t bode well for Hagrid’s teaching career.

“He should be sacked!” Pansy yelled, tears streaming down her face.

Harry growled, turning around to snap at the now muttering Slytherins. “Shut it, Parkinson. I
don’t want to hear a word about what just happened -or what you think happened- out of any
of you. Is that understood?” she snapped.

The class fell silent, staring dumbly at her before nodding slowly. Harry straightened her
robes and huffed, “Good. Then, Crabbe, Goyle, bring Draco’s things back to the common
room.”

Pansy wiped at her tears and began walking after Hagrid. “I’m going to check on him.”

The sound of the slap echoed across the forest. Harry glowered at the other girl who held her
cheek with a whimper. “I will check on him, Parkinson. Do not forget who his girlfriend is,”
she snarled.

Harry stormed away, knowing one of the others would collect her things too, before
following after Hagrid up to the castle. A feeling of worry nagged in the pit of her stomach as
she walked, scared for what Lucius Malfoy would do when he heard what had happened.
 Injured Parties
Chapter Notes

Want some more cuteness and overprotective Harry and Draco? You got it.

Draco’s arm was swiftly bandaged and kept in a sling once he was let out of the Hospital
Wing. Harry rolled her eyes as he entered the Slytherin common room as if he’d returned
weary from battle. She was sat waiting for him, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle who watched
her warily as she flipped through the pages of the Daily Prophet.

“Are you not even going to ask how I am?” he huffed.

“I know exactly how you are. You got a minor scratch that didn’t hit a major artery,” she
muttered. “In other words: you’re fine.”

Draco glowered at her, annoyed she wasn’t fawning over him. Then again, he shouldn’t have
expected as much from her. She had seen worse injuries, after all. “Still, it’s expected,” he
sniffed.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Then we have nothing more to discuss,” she huffed and returned to the paper.

Draco tore the paper out of her hands so she’d look at him. “You’re mad at me. Why?”

“You’re going to get Hagrid fired.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “I haven’t done anything. It’s his own fault for letting us near
dangerous animals on the first day.”

Harry glared up at him. “It’s your fault for not listening to him. He told you they get easily
offended, and what do you do? You call him an ugly brute.” She stood up and grabbed him
by his robe’s collar. “Of all the stupid things you’ve done, nearly getting yourself killed by a
hippogriff really takes the top.”

Draco glanced down to where her hands were grasping his robes, then up to the anger and
desperation filling her emerald-green eyes. “You were worried about me?” he asked softly.

“Of course, I was, you idiot. You’re still my boyfriend,” she hissed.
Using his free arm, he pulled her against him and kissed her forehead. “There, there, I’m not
going anywhere.”

Harry nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder and willed herself to calm down. The
rest of the Slytherins sighed in relief at the sight. No one in Slytherin could cope with those
two breaking up again, especially one over Hagrid.

-----

Harry knew Draco would tell his father. It was coded into him to tell his parents everything,
including how Harry was doing. Lucius Malfoy was, by all accounts, furious. Firstly, that
Harry had been attacked by dementors on the train, and secondly, that his precious son had
been attacked by a hippogriff. In true Malfoy fashion, he had complained to both the school
governors and the Ministry of Magic, and now it was only a matter of time before
Dumbledore would be forced to do something.

Sitting at the Slytherin dining table, she cast a sad glance over to Ron and Hermione as Draco
loudly informed the others of his father’s actions. Partly, she couldn’t blame Lucius for being
angry. Buckbeak wasn’t exactly tame and would attack if insulted, a beast that maybe thirteen
year olds shouldn’t have been introduced to on the first day of class. Maybe. However,
Hagrid had a kind heart and wanted everyone to see the beauty in the creatures he loved so
much, so she couldn’t blame him too much. Hagrid wouldn’t be fired, not as groundskeeper
anyway. Someone had to keep the man-eating spiders away from the school. Maybe she’d
mention that to Lucius next time she saw him.

“Does it hurt terribly, Draco?”

Harry froze at the sound of Pansy’s voice and her hands tightened into fists. Blaise, who was
sat beside her managed to release the knife from her grasp before allowing her to turn to
where Pansy was fawning over Draco’s arm.

Draco grimaced, “Yes, very much so.”

With all the allure she could muster, Harry draped herself across Draco’s back, pressing her
mouth against his ear. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll kiss it better,” she murmured before tilting his
head to pull him into a kiss. She kept her gaze on Pansy, a harsh glare aimed at the other girl
who dared come near Draco.

Pansy stood up and stormed out of the hall, only then did Harry release Draco’s lips. Draco
gasped for air with a grin, “What’s got you all riled up, Potter?”

“Nothing,” she replied with an innocent smile.

Draco glanced back at where Pansy had vanished from and a smirk slowly spread across his
lips. “Harriet,” he crooned. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Draco hummed, unconvinced. “So, you didn’t slap Pansy after I left the other day?”
Harry knew without looking back that Blaise had been the one to tell him. Blaise seemed to
derive some strange pleasure in investing in their relationship. Ensuring that both sides had
equal ammunition at all times.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she sniffed.

Draco pulled her back into another kiss. “As if I could look at anyone else when I have you.”

The blush spread quickly over her cheeks, and Harry adjusted her glasses nervously to avoid
looking into his eyes. “You’re a smooth talker, Malfoy.”

Draco hummed in acknowledgement and kissed her again. Then the Hall fell silent as
Seamus Finnegan ran into the room with a copy of the Daily Prophet, yelling: “He’s been
sighted!”

“Who?”

“Sirius Black!”

Harry froze as the Gryffindors ran to Seamus. “Dufftown? That’s not far from here,” she
heard Hermione say.

Draco placed a hand over Harry’s. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Hesitantly, Harry nodded her head. The thought of Sirius Black coming to Hogwarts filled
her with dread. The dementors probably scared her more than they did him. Without another
word, she leaned into Draco and rested her head on his shoulder, willing the murmurs of the
other students to die down.

----

Lucius Malfoy’s appearance at Hogwarts wasn’t as strange as Harry had once thought. He
seemed eager to watch her play as well as use the time to promptly yell at Dumbledore about
endangering his son. Yelling which would take place after Slytherin’s game against
Hufflepuff.

“The weather could be better,” Lucius sniffed as he looked outside. “Are you sure its safe to
play in it?”

Harry shrugged. “Madame Hooch said she’d cancel the game if the weather got any worse.
Besides, I’ve got my goggles.” She promptly attached them to her head.

Lucius smiled fondly, “Indeed.”

Draco huffed and straightened them atop her head. “If you break those glasses one more time
-I’m not repairing them anymore.”

“Can’t you just wish me luck over threatening me?” she sighed.
A smile tugged at Draco’s lips as their eyes met. This was their pre-game ritual. They would
meet after Harry was dressed and before Flint did his speech to the team, which usually
involved Draco fussing over her and giving her a good luck kiss. She wasn’t entirely sure
who had came up with it, but she liked that they had it. There was safety in tradition.

Harry was pulled for her thoughts as he brought her closed for a quick kiss. “Good luck,” he
whispered after releasing her lips. “Win and I’ll get you something pretty.”

“You spoil me, darling,” she smirked.

Lucius watched them with a knowing smirk, wishing that Narcissa were here to watch the
pair. Their relationship was developing well. The pair relied on each other heavily for support
in times of crisis. To Lucius, things could only get better from here on out.

-----

Harry could hear voices as her eyes flickered open to find Hermione and Ron standing over
her. What was more strange though was that Draco was standing next to them, his mouth set
in a grim line and his brow furrowed as he stared down at her. She paused. ‘The dementors’.
She remembered falling from her broom and the dementors swarming around her as she fell.
The sound of the crowd screaming as she lost consciousness and Dumbledore’s voice casting
a spell above the noise.

“Wha-what happened?” she croaked.

The three of them looked uneasy. “How are you feeling?” Hermione asked softly.

“She fell fifty feet, Granger. How do you think she’s feeling?” Draco snapped.

Harry blinked. “No. Not that bit. What about the match.”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed, “You. Fell fifty-fucking-feet from the sky.
We all thought you were dead…and you care about the match?!”

Harry moved to sit up, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “I didn’t break my glasses
though.”

Draco huffed, throwing his good arm in the air and sitting on the spare bed next to her,
grumbling to himself. Harry looked back to Hermione and Ron. “Did we lose?”

“Well…” Ron said uneasily. “Technically, yes. Diggory did catch the snitch and all, but-”

Harry’s face fell. She had never lost a game since becoming seeker. Slytherin had never lost
in the past three years. Flint was going to be furious when he found her. “Where’s Flint?”

“Hiding from Wood,” Draco muttered bitterly. “Something about a bet.”

Before Harry could say anything else, Hermione piped up again. “Dumbledore is furious.
Lucius Malfoy too. Dumbledore, he-he waved his wand and you sort of slowed down. Then
he repelled the dementors somehow. He really was furious…They aren’t supposed to come
into the grounds…”

Harry could easily imagine Dumbledore angry. As strange as it was to everyone else, she
sensed that he had a temper lurking beneath his half-rimmed glasses and twinkling eyes. You
didn’t get a reputation like Dumbledore’s without having a temper that terrified onlookers.
‘Perhaps in that way, we’re alike’, she thought idly.

“And Lucius?”

“Father is in Dumbledore’s office right now. Wants to launch an inquiry into the safety of
Hogwarts’ students,” Draco muttered bitterly.

Harry rolled her eyes. “Of course he is.” It didn’t surprise her at all to know that Lucius was
furious she had been harmed. He seemed to value her as much as he did Draco. “Did anyone
catch my broom?”

Ron cleared his throat uneasily. “See…it kinda hit the Whomping Willow and-”

Harry didn’t hear the rest as she simply stared at the bag in Ron’s arms of splintered wood
and twigs. Tears streamed down her face at the sight of it.

----

Hermione and Ron left with the remains of Harry’s broom at her feet. She picked them up in
disbelief and sighed as she realised no spell could fix it. Her Nimbus had finally been beaten.
Leaning back against the pillow of the hospital bed, she noted that Draco was still there.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

Draco shook his head. “I’m mad that this keep happening to you. Why are they so drawn to
you? Attacking you?”

Harry swallowed thickly, “I heard it again, you know?”

“Heard what?”

“The scream. I-I know who it is now,” she muttered. “It was my mum.”

Draco lifted his head, looking at her curiously. “How?”

“I don’t know. I just know it was her. Maybe it triggered a memory I’d hidden but…I heard
her last words.” Tears streamed down her face a new.

He was next to her in an instant and gestured for her to move over till he was able to slot
himself behind her on the bed. “She was begging him to spare me,” she whimpered.

He held her tighter, nuzzling his face against her cheek. “You didn’t tell the others.”

“They’d just worry I was hearing things again,” she said with a shuddering breath.
Draco nodded and kissed her cheek. “You’re not crazy, Harry. And as for your broom-”

“You’re not buying me a broom!” she snapped.

“But you need one!”

“I will cope without one,” she grumbled.

 Vengeance in My Heart
Chapter Notes

Harry very quickly turns to vengeance in this book, so I just had to show this side of her
in this chapter. The conniving, cunning side of her that is true Slytherin.

Draco’s arm was healed by the time Harry was discharged from the Hospital Wing and the
pair strode into the Great Hall holding hands. The gossip was still being mongered amongst
the students about what had happened at the match, but most had put it behind them in favour
of the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. Harry pouted as she listened to the others talk about what
they were looking forward to the most, namely Honeyduke’s sweet shop. Uncle Vernon never
signed any permission slip Harry gave him, and he certainly wasn’t going to after that
incident with Marge. She’d tried persuading Snape to let her go if a teacher signed it, or even
Lucius, but to no avail. He had simply sneered back at her that only a parent or guardian
could sign it. Not for the first time, Harry wished she’d been raised by other people.

When she said as much to Lupin, he simply smiled, “I’m sure Dumbledore put you where he
thought you’d be safest.”

“The Dursely’s may be safe, but that doesn’t mean they’re nice to live with,” she huffed.
There was a bowl of sweets on the professor’s desk which Harry happily indulged in as she
tried to pick his brains over dementors.

“Be that as it may, I still can’t sign your permission slip.”

Harry pouted, “Worth a shot though. Now, about these dementors-”

----

Harry stood watching the others leave, bundled up in their hats and gloves as the snow fell
around the castle. Draco kissed her goodbye, promising to bring her back some treats. She
smiled weakly, wishing she didn’t have to rely on her boyfriend’s memory to taste butterbeer
for the first time. It wasn’t as if there was much to do around this time of year. Everyone else
was in the village or studying for exams, whilst Harry wandered the hallways aimlessly
waiting for Lupin to start the ant-dementor classes he’d promised her. Glancing back at the
Slytherin’s retreating forms, Harry decided to once again break the rules and put her father’s
cloak to good use.

----

‘Godfather’. The word haunted Harry as she made her way out of Hogsmede and back to the
castle. She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she returned to her dorm in one piece. She
lay on her bed sobbing as she stared at the photograph of her parents on her bedside table, the
one of them dancing as the leaves fell around them.

“Harry…”

She stilled at the sound of Draco entering the room. Wiping her eyes, she sat up to look at
him. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

Draco’s eyes were full of sympathy, his lips set in a thin line. “Grainger found me.”

“How did you even get in here?”

He shrugged. “I have my ways,” he murmured before crossing the room and sitting at her feet
on the bed. “What happened?”

“Did you know Sirius Black was my godfather?” she whispered harshly.

Draco stilled before muttering: “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Telling you wouldn’t change anything,” he replied softly.

“He was their friend!” she screamed. “He betrayed my parents, and you don’t think I’d want
to know that.”

Draco’s face remained calm. “All I know is that Father is more worried about dementors than
Sirius Black. When he found out he’d escaped, he wasn’t concerned until he realised the
Ministry was sending dementors to Hogwarts,” he replied coolly.

Harry stared at him in disbelief. “Why?”

“I don’t know why. I just know that Father would never have let either of us come back this
year if he thought Black was an actual danger to you.”

“He betrayed my parents. He helped Voldemort kill them, to try to kill me! How is he not a
danger to me?”

Draco scowled, “Because Father told me that Black would never follow Voldemort.”

“And how would he know?” Draco’s face fell, an uneasy look coloured his eyes. Harry
paused. “Draco, was your dad…”

“Yes…” he whispered. There was a pregnant pause as he shifted uneasily on the bed, looking
down at his hands. “We don’t talk about it. Mother doesn’t like it.”

Harry shook her head, not wanting to delve into the Malfoy’s family history over her own
problems. “Black betrayed my parents, Draco. How am I supposed to forget that? Let alone
forgive him.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive him, Harry, I’m telling you he isn’t coming to kill you!” he
snapped. “It wouldn’t benefit him to do so. It’s a pointless and stupid reason to break out of
prison. He can’t even get into the castle. There’s no way somebody can get in and out of here
without being noticed.”

Harry thought of the Marauder’s Map hidden in her coat pocket or the cloak stashes in her
trunk beneath her bed. It was easy enough to get in and out of Hogwarts, if you knew what
you were doing. Without either item though, she imagined it would be particularly much
harder to remain undetected.

Draco watched her face carefully and sighed, “What would you even do if he did come to
Hogwarts?”

Harry met his gaze with a cold, emotionless stare. “I’d kill him.”

Shaking his head lightly, Draco murmured, “And you wonder why I didn’t tell you.” With a
sad look, he pulled out a candy-striped bag with the Honeyduke’s logo on it. “I got you these
by the way. Thought they’d cheer you up. You know, before you decided to vow revenge and
everything.”

Harry opened the bag, smiling at how packed it was with a whole variety of sweets. “Thanks.
Sorry for snapping at you.”

Draco shrugged. “Not the first time you’ve yelled at me, Potter. Won’t be the last.”

“Still…” Harry kissed him on the cheek. “I shouldn’t yell at you. You’re only trying to keep
me out of Azkaban.”

With a sad smile, he gazed back into her green eyes and sighed dejectedly, “I’m starting to
think that trying to keep you safe is a fool’s game.”

“Perhaps, but I appreciate the gesture. Not many would stick by me as long as you have.”

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled her into a tight embrace, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I
promise you, nobody’s trying to kill you,” he murmured into her hair. “Not this year anyway,
but keep being a brat and I might have to rethink that.”

Harry scoffed, “Yeah, ‘cause Daddy Malfoy would really let you risk prison.”

He said nothing else, except to stand and ruffle her hair. “See you at dinner.”

----

“I agree with Draco.”

“Hermione!”

Hermione huffed as Ron stared at her in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Ron, but he’s right. If Lucius
Malfoy was one Voldemort’s followers, he would likely know who was or wasn’t on their
side. If he doesn’t think Black’s a threat then maybe he isn’t.”
“The Ministry doesn’t think so. My dad doesn’t think so. Hell, the whole wizarding world
thinks Black is a psycho.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Be that as it may, for a man like Lucius not to be concerned is
rather telling.”

“What about him betraying her parents then, huh?” Ron grumbled. “What about that?”

“I’m not sure.” Hermione paused before turning her attention to Harry. “Harry, what do you
think?”

Harry sat staring off onto the Black Lake, her back facing the pair of them. They had come
out in the snow, out of the way from prying eyes and ears as they talked about such a
sensitive subject. It was not for the first time that Harry thought things would be easier if they
were in the same house. At least then they could sit around the fireplace instead of rambling
around the grounds.

“I don’t know what to believe, but I know that Draco’s telling the truth.”

“Oh, come on!” Ron cried.

“Lucius isn’t a fool, Ron. Arrogant and bigoted, yes, but not a fool. He knows killing me
would not benefit anybody, and he knows that Black isn’t a follower of Voldemort,” she
replied coolly.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. “How do you feel about him being a follower?”
Hermione asked quietly.

“Honestly, I’ve known for a while. Why else would he have Riddle’s diary? Voldemort must
have trusted him a great deal. Now, Voldemort’s gone though, Lucius is content to use his
family’s money and position to gain power.”

“So, why you still dating Malfoy?” Ron grunted.

Harry had considered this long and hard over the summer. Even in that moment when she
realised Lucius was behind the attacks last year. “Because…” Harry turned around to face
them. “Despite everything, I care about him and he cares about me. I know it sounds weird,
but I actually like being with him.”

Ron looked unconvinced as he rubbed his glove-covered hands together. “So, you don’t care
that his dad used to follow You Know Who?”

“I thought I would, but to be honest, Lucius has spent the past three years ensuring my
comfort and safety. If anything, I’d say he’s making sure he stays on my good side.”

“Why would he do that?”

Harry pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Because he believes Voldemort isn’t coming
back. That’s why he used the diary last year. He wouldn’t dare do that if he thought he was
coming back. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason he told Draco to befriend me
was to ensure he was on my good side.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, his dad told him to make friends with you for his own
gain,” Hermione said quietly.

“No, I don’t think Lucius thought I’d turn Draco down that first time. Nor did he think that
Draco would want me as his girlfriend straight away. I imagine, that was planned much
longer down the line.” She smirked, “I actually Draco and I surprised him. Draco wasn’t
supposed to catch feelings for me, and I outwitted him.”

A small smile crossed over Hermione’s face. “Perhaps you are perfectly suited then.”

“Perhaps we are.”

This was a side of Harry that neither Gryffindor had seen before. This Harry wasn’t just
crying or cunning, this Harry was furious. It unnerved them both to see her this way. The
only one who seemed to calm her lately was Draco. Whenever the blonde boy was around, if
Harry began snapping at people, he snapped back. Hermione, especially, wasn’t above asking
Draco for help when Harry was like this as Harry didn’t seem to listen to either Hermione or
Ron when it came to things like this. One thing was for certain though, Harry Potter didn’t
take betrayal lightly.
 On Tenterhooks
Chapter Notes

This is a bit of a mean chapter, but I do promise the next one will be happier with more
Draco/Harry cuteness

With the Patronus charm under her belt, Harry felt just a little bit invincible as she walked the
corridors of Hogwarts. But as she sat on the edge of the lake with Ron and Hermione,
watching Hagrid paddling in the shallow end and skimming stones, she couldn’t help but
wish she had the power to stop Hagrid’s tears. Hagrid was standing in his suit, his trousers
rolled up to his knees and his shaggy jacket he only wore for special occasions that looked
like he’d skinned a wookie.

“And then he asked for the worse, did ol’ Lucius…” Hagrid’s voice trailed off. “Buckbeak’s
been sentenced to death.”

He threw his last stone into the water, allowing it to hit the water sharply before the half-giant
began crying in earnest. Harry looked back to the others and sighed. She hated seeing Hagrid
so upset, and she hadn’t seen him like this since Norbert was sent away. Any resentment
she’d had for him in not telling her about Sirius melted away as she watched him sob.

-----

Draco avoided Harry when she returned to the common room, he knew exactly where she’d
been, had known the result the moment Hagrid had returned to Hogwarts with Dumbledore in
tow. He thought it wise to avoid her in case another fight broke out between them, something
he doubted anyone really wanted to witness.

The pair sat on other side of the room for twenty minutes before Blaise appeared at Draco’s
side. “What did you do?”

“Father had that hippogriff sentenced to death,” he grumbled.

“Which means Potter’s mad at you for upsetting her friend.”

Draco glanced up at him. “Did you want something?”

“Oh, yeah. Snape wanted me to tell you that she’s on a mandatory curfew from now on.”

Draco snorted, “Fat chance she’ll listen but ok. Wait, why is she on a curfew?”

Blaise looked around uneasily. “They think Black got into Gryffindor Tower last night.
Mustn’t have known she was in Slytherin, but as a precaution, she’s not to leave the common
room alone. The whole school’s on lockdown.”

Sighing, Draco looked across the room to where Harry was sulking by the fireplace.
“Somehow, I doubt a little curfew is gonna stop her. She’s not exactly in a very obliging
mood right now.”

“Should we owl your father now then or wait till after she tries to get herself killed again?”

Draco shot him a pointed look. “This is her fight, Blaise. She’s made that very clear,” he
muttered bitterly.

Blaise watched the blonde boy walk away to the dormitory, wondering if maybe this time
Harry had pushed Draco too far.

-----

Harry wondered if she was letting her anger get the best of her. She had paid very little
attention to the ongoing issue of Crookshanks vs. Scabbers, and the rat’s subsequent
disappearance. That black dog seemed to be everywhere she turned, even in tea leaf
predictions. Draco seemed to be keeping her at arm’s length and the whole of Slytherin was
watching her as if waiting for her to snap at someone. She leaned against the bridge as she
watched Hedwig spread her wings across the grounds of Hogwarts. She’d never felt this way
before, not this level of anger and resentment. You’d think after living with the Dursley’s and
the treatment she’d put up with for so long, it would be a part of her personality by now.
Harry had always tried to be kind though, tried to see the goodness in people, but now she
wanted to throw desks and chairs at these adults who just kept keeping secrets from her.

She didn’t know who to believe anymore. She wanted to believe Draco when he said Sirius
Black wasn’t a follower of Voldemort, or at least wasn’t as far as Lucius knew. She wanted to
believe he hadn’t betrayed her parents. But then why did he break out of prison? Who did
betray her parents? As she watched the sky darkening with thick grey clouds, she wished that
she’d get her answers soon.

-----

Christmas at Hogwarts was always one of Harry’s favourite times of the year. She loved
opening her presents in the common room with the others, even when they pulled faces at the
knitted jumper Mrs Weasley made her. As she pulled the new indigo coloured one over her
head, she felt Draco sit down next to her on the floor. He silently placed a present in front of
her, barely even looking at her.

“Merry Christmas, Potter.”

Harry smiled fondly, “Merry Christmas, Malfoy.” She pulled his present out from underneath
the tree and handed it to him.

Draco was good at gift-giving, that much Harry knew. Harry opened the present to reveal a
silver charm bracelet. “I thought I could add to it the longer we’re together. I already got you
three charms,” he murmured.
She examined the bracelet closely, noting how each one meant something to them. The first
was a silver owl, the second a Murano glass bead in the same Emerald green of Slytherin’s
colours along with a stripe of silver along it. The third though was Harry’s favourite: a silver
heart with HP+DM engraved onto the metal.

“I love it,” she beamed.

Draco blushed, happy that he had made her smile again. “Glad you like it.” He gestured to his
own open present. “Thanks for the quidditch jersey, by the way.”

“I thought it’d keep you warm during the matches. I know you probably have like tons of
cashmere and stuff but-”

“No,” he murmured. “I love it.”

Smiling, Harry leaned forward and kissed him. The surrounding Slytherins cooed in
encouragement. Draco kissed her back eagerly before Blaise coughed intently, forcing the
blonde to pull away.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?”

Harry nodded eagerly, extending her wrist for Draco to clasp the bracelet around. Draco
caressed her pale skin as he did so, wishing that moments like these weren’t so fleeting as
they had been this year. ‘Maybe if they catch Black, everything will be forgiven’, he thought
hopefully as she snuggled closer to him.

----

It was the day of Buckbeak’s execution and Harry knew Draco wouldn’t pass up an
opportunity to gloat. She grabbed him as they passed each other in the common room and
hissed, “It’s Buckbeak’s execution today. If I were you, I’d stay away.”

Draco glowered back at her. “Is that an order?”

“No, but I can’t be held responsible for what Ron or Hermione will do if they see you there,”
she muttered as she let go of his arm.

“You’re not going, are you?” he asked with a suspicious look in his eyes. “You’re supposed
to be on a curfew.”

“Since when do I listen to Snape?” she huffed.

Draco grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away. “Then listen to me. You agreed not to
put yourself in danger again.”

“Granted, but considering last year’s incident was down to your father, I can’t take full credit
for it,” she hissed, shrugging him off.

Draco said nothing, a flash of hurt filled his eyes before he walked away from her. Harry
watched him leave, knowing she’d probably said the wrong thing again but she didn’t really
care at the moment. Hagrid was her priority right now, and so she left the common room for
Hagrid’s Hut.

----

A part of Harry knew that Draco wouldn’t listen to her, as she stepped outside and found
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle standing on the hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut. She rolled her eyes
as he turned around with a mocking grin at her, as if daring her to comment on it. She didn’t
say anything though, not even when Hermione pinned him against a rock with her wand and
punched him in the face. He held his nose tenderly as he ran away, shooting a pointed glare at
Harry as he passed her.

“I’ll get that little Mudblood for this,” he hissed.

Harry shot him a look, and she noted the way he swallowed thickly, likely knowing he was in
trouble for using that word again. He knew the rules now though, and she imagined that
Hermione would enjoy whatever book he found for her. He was angry though, and an angry
Malfoy was a dangerous thing.

Hermione flexed her fists, eyeing Harry warily. “Are you mad?”

“Not really, I did warn him not to come,” she sighed. “How’s your hand?”

“Tender.” Hermione paused. “Are you two fighting again?”

“You could say that. He’s not happy I’m breaking curfew and I’m not happy with his dad.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Harry, I know he can be a jerk but…he does care for you.”

Harry looked down to the charm bracelet, fiddling with the charms, and shrugged. “Can we
talk about this after we see Hagrid? It’s freezing out here.”

Ron didn’t need telling twice as he pulled Hermione towards the path down to Hagrid’s Hut,
Harry following closely behind them.
 The Godfather

It occurred to Harry as she watched the black dog drag Ron and Scabbers below the
Whomping Willow, that she attracted danger. She lunged for Ron’s hand but it escaped her
grasp and Ron’s cries turned into echoes as he was dragged further down.

“For once, I would like us not to be attacked by a creature. Just once,” she huffed as she tried
to stand.

Before she could get her bearings though, the Whomping Willow’s branches began swiping
at her and Hermione.

----

Harry watched Sirius curiously as he helped her carry Ron out of the tunnel and to the roots
of the Whomping Willow. The tree didn’t stir as Lupin waved his wand, halting its
movements before it even had a chance to strike at them. Sirius stared up at the stars and the
lights of the castle towering above them and sighed; Harry couldn’t help but wonder how
long it had been since he had seen stars. He was handsome, she supposed, beneath the almost
crazed appearance he had with his filthy robes and bags beneath his eyes. Perhaps the next
time she saw him, he would look more how he did when she was a baby. She glanced back at
the tunnel entrance and wondered if they should go back for Snape then thought better of it.
Snape was just as pathetic as she’d always believed he was, taking out his anger on Remus
and Sirius nearly twenty years later.

“I don’t know if anyone told you this, Harry, but I’m-I’m your godfather,” Sirius said softly.

“I knew,” she replied coolly.

Sirius shifted uneasily. “Well…your parents appointed me your guardian. If anything

happened to them… I’ll understand of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle.
But, well, if you wanted a different home…”

“Live with you?”

“I know it’s sudden. I just thought-” Sirius said quickly.

“Of course I want to leave the Dursley’s! When can I move in?” Harry instantly thought
about how quickly she could pack her things back at Privet Drive to move in with Sirius. It
wouldn't take her too long. Dudley would probably help her pack.

Sirius looked back at her in bewilderment. “You-you really want to?”

Harry smiled at him, “You’ve no idea what it’s been like. I always wanted to move out but I
didn’t have anywhere else.” Excitement flooded through her at the endless possibilities of no
longer living at Privet Drive. “You can actually be a parent to me.”
“Well, guardian,” he replied sheepishly. “Not sure how much of one I’d be. I don’t know
much about parenting. I mean, do I give you like the no sex and drugs talk?”

Sex. Harry’s mind immediately went to Draco, the closest thing she had to a possibility of sex
in the future. She wanted Sirius to meet Draco, to stare down at him with approval and tell
her she had made a good choice. It didn’t matter he was in Slytherin. “I have a boyfriend,”
she blurted out.

Sirius smiled easily at her, “I know. Remus told me. Is he good to you?”

Harry nodded dumbly. “Treats me better than I treat him some days,” she admitted with a
downcast look.

“That’ll be his mother’s doing. Cissy always was one for chivalry. Lucius too actually.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Cissy?”

“Narcissa Malfoy -she’s my cousin,” he replied with a distant look in his eyes. “She stopped
speaking to me after I ran away from home. They all did.”

“Didn’t expect you to approve of my boyfriend. Thought I’d get some of that old ‘if he hurts
you’ stuff,” she muttered as she cleaned her glasses with her sleeve.

Sirius laughed softly, “Might not work on Cissy’s boy, but it might work on that Vernon
though.”

“Oh, don’t worry the fact you’re a fugitive is definitely being brought up,” she chuckled.

Hermione called Harry’s name and the pair of them spun around to face the dark clouds
overhead parting to reveal the full moon. Remus’ face turned pale at the sight before
contorting in pain as he began to turn.

----

Harry lay in the bed, exhausted from running around trying to save both Buckbeak and Sirius
from death. She decided that time travel was very draining, she had no idea how Hermione
had managed to do it for so long. Hermione slumped in the chair beside Ron as he stared at
them both in confusion. They ate the chocolate Madame Pomfrey gave them gladly, almost
giddy with the nerves as they waited for the discovery to be made. Sure enough, there was a
loud roar outside the Hospital Wing’s doors and Snape unlocked the doors to storm inside, his
eyes glued to Harry. Fudge and Dumbledore hurried inside after him, only Dumbledore
looked calm as he entered the room.

“Potter!” he hissed.

Harry met his glare, eagerly waiting to speak. “Is something the matter, Professor?”

“Out with it Potter. What did you do?” he bellowed.

“See here, Snape, be reasonable,” Fudge began weakly. “The doors were locked-”
“They helped him escape. I know it!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione.

Harry calmly looked back at the snarling Potions Master and replied: “If Sirius Black has
escaped, then I take comfort in knowing my godfather won’t be killed. If you would like to
continue to accuse me of having something to do with this, Professor, I suggest you wait until
I get proper counsel.”

She turned to Dumbledore. “Professor, would you kindly inform Lucius Malfoy that I may
need him for his legal advice. Oh, and tell Draco I am unharmed, please.”

Dumbledore looked amused as he nodded to her. Harry then turned her attention to Fudge.
“As for you, Minister, I would worry more about the Ministry’s lack of foresight and
vigilance in allowing someone to escape from Azkaban in the first place. Also the fact
everybody neglected to tell me anything until the day before school started. Which if Sirius
was the maniac you think he is, wouldn’t have helped me very much, would it?”

Fudge had the decency to look embarrassed, a slight glimmer of fear and anger in his eyes as
he tried to tug Snape away from her. “I think we should leave them to recover, Snape.”

Snape seethed, “You don’t understand. I know her. She did it!”

“That will do, Severus,” Dumbledore said quietly. “Think about what you are saying. The
door has been locked since I left ten minutes ago, and Madame Pomfrey has been here the
whole time.”

Madame Pomfrey glared at Snape, as if daring him to question her. “Yes, Professor, I have
been with them since you left,” she bristled.

“Well, there you have it, Severus. Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are
able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.”

Snape whirled around, robes swishing as he stormed out of the Hospital Wing. Harry lay
back smugly against her pillow, happy in the knowledge that she had managed to not only
knock him unconscious, free Sirius and lose Snape his glory, but also she had managed to
make him look unstable in front of the Minster of Magic.

-----

Harry found Draco once they left the Hospital Wing, the sun of early summer beating down
on the castle, near the edge of the Black Lake. Most of the students had taken advantage of
their Hogsmede privileges, deserting the castle in favour of sweets and butterbeer. Harry sat
down beside him, wearing a pink summer dress that grazed her knees, exposing her pale legs
for him to gaze along before he realised, he’d been caught staring.

“I don’t think I have the energy for you today,” he muttered.

Harry smirked, “Never thought that as something you lacked.”

Draco shot her a pointed look before turning away from her. Harry sighed, pushing a hand
through her short hair and ruffling it slightly. “I haven’t been the best of girlfriends lately,
have I?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, I’m sorry for that. I should-I should treat you better than I have done. Definitely
shouldn’t have directed my anger at you. Shouldn’t have pushed you away, and I guess I
shouldn’t have brought up your dad and last year.”

Draco pursed his lips. “Do you know why you did it?”

Harry sighed, “I guess sometimes-sometimes I wonder if I’m still an investment to you. That-
that this isn’t love, it’s just convenience.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes as he replied: “You’re not an investment. You haven’t been since
summer of First Year and I realised I missed you.” He paused. “Do you still think the worst
of me then?”

“No, I tried to. Wanted to believe you were this big bad boy, and I was better than you. But it
turns out I’m equally as cunning and conniving as you are,” she murmured. “If not more
inclined to murder people.”

“Am I supposed to find that comforting?”

Harry tsked, “I’m trying here, alright? I’m not in the habit of apologising.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” He sighed wearily and turned to face her, staring deep into her
eyes. “Harry, if we’re gonna stay together I want to set somethings straight. I care about you,
like a lot. Yes, my father used to be a follower of You-Know-Who but he actually cares about
you too. Mostly for my sake, but either way…”

He paused and grasped her hand, noting how she still wore the charm bracelet he gave her. “I
don’t wanna fight with you every time something like this comes up, ok? I don’t wanna have
to defend my feelings for you when I tell you not to get yourself killed.”

“What do you want then?”

Draco moved a stray strand of hair from her face. “I want to make you happy. I want you to
keep crying to me when you’re too tired of saving the school. I want you to keep telling
everyone that if they mess with you, my father will get involved,” he smirked. “But at the end
of the day, Potter, I just want you.”

Blushing, Harry wiped at her eyes which had sprouted tears. “Damnit, you’re making me cry
here, Malfoy.”

Pulling her towards him, he settled her against his chest, resting his chin on her head. Harry
sighed against him, snuggling closer to him. Nobody cared for her like Draco did. She had no
illusions that he wouldn’t do anything for her if she asked. She wondered if this was what
falling in love felt like, being secure in the knowledge that somebody loved you and would
look after you, even from yourself.
“Draco?” He grunted in response. “I’m sorry I’m such a git to you.”

“Just don't make it a habit, baby.” Harry smiled against his chest, basking in the moment
before he spoke up again: “So, how exactly did you spring Black out of Flitwick’s office
again?”

“Now, what makes you think I had anything to do with that?” she asked innocently.

“Snape asked me to ask you. I made no promises that you’d actually tell me anything
though,” he chuckled.

“Perhaps I’m a better Slytherin than he thought.”

Draco smirked, “You’re coming along nicely.”

Harry pressed a kiss against his lips and giggled, “I’m glad you think so.”

Humming against her lips, he asked, “Are we good now?”

“Yeah, baby, we’re good.”

He looked out onto the lake and murmured, “You know, it’s the World Cup this summer.
Father gets tickets through work, so…would you like to go with us?”

“I’m sure the Dursley’s would be happy to let me go. Anything to get me out the house,” she
chuckled. “Especially after Aunt Marge.”

Draco burst into laughter. “True, but don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to keep you of trouble.”

“Something tells me, that’ll only get harder each year.”

Pressing a kiss against her forehead, Draco held her close and breathed in her scent. “Yeah, I
think it will.”

----

The broom arrived the next day, landing on the Slytherin table in front of Harry who eyed it
curiously. She turned to Draco. “I thought I said not to buy me a new broom.”

“I didn’t.”

Hesitantly, she plucked the note attached to the package and grinned as she realised it was
from Sirius. She read it quickly then ripped open the wrapping to reveal the brand new
Firebolt to the crowd of Slytherins and few Gryffindors who flocked around her.

Hermione read the letter over her shoulder and grinned at her knowingly. “You really are
spoilt, Harry.”

Harry laughed as she read the letter again before hastily stuffing it into her robes just as
Snape appeared. “If anyone asks,” she whispered to Draco. “You got it me.”
Draco looked at her curiously before nodding. It was strange to see how quick Harry had
gone from murderous intent to pure adoration for the man, but this was Harry Potter. Things
with Harry were never completely straightforward.

----

Strolling behind Harry calmly, Draco took note of the wary looks of the other students as she
made her way towards Snape in the Great Hall. It hadn’t taken long for the news to break that
Snape had let Lupin’s condition slip during breakfast, once Harry had already left with Draco
to try out her Firebolt. It was now lunchtime, and the Hall was full of whispers and
mutterings as they watched Harry storm towards the head table.

“You pompous, vindictive greasy-haired piece of-!”

“Miss Potter!” McGonagall snapped, halting the green-eyed girl in her tracks. “I will not
have you address a teacher that way.”

“Apologies, Professor, but I find it pathetic that a grown man resorts to outing another man
out of some petty vendetta,” she hissed. “Remus Lupin is ten times a better teacher than
Snape is.”

The students made a shocked noise behind her. Snape glowered at her, “You are just a child,
Potter. What could you possibly know about teaching or the mental capacity of one of his
kind. He could have killed you the other night.”

“I know that a teacher with more dignity and respect from his students than you do, is leaving
here today. Remus Lupin is a good man, and a great teacher, and that is far more than I can
say for you, Professor.”

With that, she twirled around and stormed back out of the Great Hall with Draco following
behind her at a leisurely pace. “Remind me next time not to save you, ungrateful girl!” he
shouted at her back.

“You didn’t save anyone. You were too busy being unconscious,” she yelled back.

She smirked as she heard the students trying hard not to laugh behind her and Snape’s
thunderous demand for silence. Draco slotted his hand in-between hers, “You happy now?”

“Relatively.”

“You know he’s gonna give you detention for that, right?” he asked with a wry grin.

Harry scoffed, “He can do what he likes. See if I care.”

“I’d rather you didn’t get expelled, darling,” he sighed.

“Draco, I’m the Girl Who Lived, I’m dating you, and my godfather is a wanted fugitive… I’d
like to see them try.”
Draco couldn’t help but laugh in agreement to that. Harry gave his hand a squeeze as she
thought of all the fun that awaited her now. She had a boyfriend, a Firebolt, and a godfather.
Things were going very well as far as she was concerned.
 Publicity Stunt
Chapter Notes

Want a little fluff between Harry and Draco before the World Cup? Lucius vs. Harry?
You got it!

The Ministry held a charity gala every year, and naturally Lucius Malfoy was granted an
invitation along with Narcissa and Draco. Harry was a little surprised when she too was
extended an invitation as Draco’s date for the evening, but as she stepped into the room she
realised that there was an ulterior motive to her being there. The press clamoured for pictures
of her as she stepped into full view of the crowd, and she blushed in embarrassment, holding
onto Draco’s hand tightly. Lucius had presented her with the dress shortly after he’d collected
her from the Dursley’s. It was a full-skirted gold dress with a sleeveless neckline and a
hemline that ended just past her knees. Narcissa had helped to curl her hair and pin it back
with pearl accessories, and Harry found herself thinking that she resembled a Hollywood
starlet as she caught sight of her reflection in a nearby mirror.

“Tell me,” she asked sweetly into Draco’s ear. “Do I make your daddy look good enough?”

Draco rolled his eyes, “You don’t think this about your image?”

“I told you before, baby, I’m a teenager: I have no image.”

“I don’t know about that. You certainly are known for getting into trouble,” he muttered
dryly.

“I do not get into that much trouble.”

“Right, and how many detentions have you had?”

Harry shot him a pointed look as they walked away from the cameras, following his parents
at a distance. Lucius was talking to a couple of wizards Harry didn’t recognise, when he
caught sight of her and beamed: “Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Harriet
Potter.”

Glancing up at Lucius, Harry smiled politely as wizards and witches surrounded her,
including Cornelius Fudge who eyed her warily. “Miss Potter, a pleasure to see you again.”

“Likewise, Minister. I haven’t seen you since my godfather escaped your custody,” she
replied with a sly grin. Fudge grimaced at her words, tugging at his shirt collar nervously as
he forced a smile.

Draco nudged her arm and whispered, “Harry, don’t.”

“Yes…” Fudge replied. “A unfortunate situation, I’m afraid. But I trust you are having a good
summer so far, yes?”

“Very, Draco and I have practically been inseparable.” She turned to Draco and smiled
warmly, “He spoils me, he really does.”

“That’s excellent to hear,” Fudge smiled warmly. “It is always good to see such upstanding
students as yourselves so devoted to each other.”

Draco slid his arm around her waist, tugging her closer to him. “That we are, Minister.”

“I do hope this year won’t give either of you anymore…unpleasantness.”

Harry’s left eye twitched. “By which you mean the continued persecution and man hunt for
my godfather and rightful guardian?”

“Harry, we discussed this-” The Minister began uneasily.

Harry opened her mouth to retaliate when Draco spoke first. “Actually, Minister, I support
Harry’s claims of what truly happened that night and will be looking to use all of the Malfoy
family’s resources to investigate this further,” he replied coolly. His eyes were hardened,
trained on the Minister and the others around them, not daring to glance back at his father.

“Really, Draco?” she asked in astonishment.

Draco turned to her. “Would that make you happy?”

“Yes,” she smiled.

“Then I will do whatever I can to help you prove Black’s innocence.” He paused. “Besides, I
think he might be preferrable than the Dursley’s.”

Harry scoffed, “Anyone’s better than the Dursley’s.”

The pair stared lovingly into each other’s eyes for a moment. Draco had never really spoken
about what she’d told him about Sirius. It was like he didn’t want to acknowledge the past
year at all, but the fact that he had listened to her and wanted to help her warmed Harry’s
heart. Lucius managed to distract the other adults with talk of work as the pair seemed to get
lost in each other’s eyes.

“You know,” she murmured. “When you say stuff like that, I think I’m falling in love with
you.”

Draco smirked, “That’s the idea, darling.”

He caught sight of other couples dancing and pulled her along to join them. Harry stilled at
the sight of them, a blush covering her cheeks. “I-I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted
in a whisper.

“I’ll show you.”

Draco pulled her closer to him, holding one hand with his whilst his other arm came to guide
her back. He led her into a simple dance, twirling her around every so often much to her
delight. He grinned as she giggled when he dipped her, just as the cameras went off to the
side of them.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” she hummed as he pulled her upright.

Draco considered her question for a moment before smirking, “Nope. I’m just brilliant like
that.”

-----

Harry tossed and turned in her sleep until she found herself wandering the hallways of
Malfoy Manor long after Draco had kissed her goodnight. She entered the Library to find
Lucius sat in front of the fire, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” he drawled.

“I thought it went very well. You certainly got what you wanted out of it.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

Harry scoffed, “Me, on Draco’s arm in front of the entire Ministry. You want them to know I
am dating your son.”

Lucius sighed, “You’re very astute for someone your age.”

“I am a Slytherin, after all.”

Looking at her with fondness in his eyes, he nodded slowly. “Indeed, you are. I was surprised
by Draco’s declaration though. I had no idea you wanted to launch an investigation into your
parents’ deaths.”

“Wouldn’t you if the man charged with betraying them was innocent all along?” she asked as
she moved closer.

“Perhaps. I doubt you can prove much, not without Pettigrew’s testimony and I fear he is
long gone.”

Harry considered the older man for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sirius before
last year?”

Lucius sighed and took a large swig from his glass. “What part are you referring to?”

“The part where you knew it was Pettigrew and not Sirius who betrayed my parents,” she
replied coolly.

“Ah, that part.” He paused. “I guess, I didn’t know how to tell you. Do you hate me for it?”
Harry came and sat in the chair opposite him, crossing her legs over to match his own body
language. “No. I should. Merlin knows I should. I should hate you with every fibre of my
being because it means that you followed the man who killed my parents. Who tried to kill
me, and now I’m dating your son.” She licked her lips nervously. “Perhaps now, your agenda
has changed since Voldemort disappeared.”

Lucius considered her carefully. “I underestimated you, Harry. I’ll admit that much.”

“Can I just ask…will you ever actively hurt someone I love for your own agenda?” she
asked, half-dreading his answer.

“I don’t know. You care for so many people, Harry. The Weasley family, that Granger girl,
every single student at Hogwarts. How can I be certain that my actions one day won’t upset
you?”

Harry swallowed thickly, “You can’t. I just wanted some reassurance that you wouldn’t hurt
Hermione or Ron.”

Lucius looked down at his glass and sighed, “I can assure you that much then. I have no
interest in hurting you, Harry, for if I do, I hurt my son.”

“I’m glad to know one thing has come out of this then.”

“What is that?”

Harry smiled as she rose from her seat, “That you do love your son.”

Lucius smiled back at her easily, “Of course, I do. And in a strange way, I am awfully fond of
you too, Harry. Though, I would appreciate it if you stopped ridding me of my staff.”

Harry laughed softly, “I promise. Dobby was the first and the last.” She paused in the
doorway, turning to face him again. “Mr Malfoy? If he came back… would you side with
him again?”

Lucius didn’t meet her gaze. “Go to sleep, Harry. We've got a long day tomorrow.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes as she walked slowly back up the stairs. As she turned towards her
bedroom, she found Draco standing in his bedroom doorway waiting for her. “I can’t believe
you asked him that,” he said softly.

“Neither can I.” She swallowed thickly, “Hey, can I- can I stay with you tonight?”

Draco hesitated before pulling her into his room where he tucked her into his bed alongside
side him, his arms coming to cradle her as she snuggled against him. A part of him was
worried what his parents would say to find her in his bed, but he didn’t care. Harry needed
him tonight. “Does it change anything?” he asked into the darkness.

“No…no, I suppose it doesn’t,” she murmured against his chest. A tear still slipped from her
eye, but Draco didn’t comment. She closed her eyes, her glasses neatly placed on his bedside
table, and wished that just for a moment Lucius had told her no.
 The World Cup
Chapter Notes

I promise you, guys, Fourth Year is going to be full of sweet moments and stuff like that,
but for now here's the events of the World Cup.

“You know, when you said camping…this isn’t what I expected,” Harry said as she dumped
her bag onto the floor of the tent.

On the outside, it appeared as a normal tent. Or rather, it would have done if it wasn’t an
extravagant thing out of silk like a miniature palace with several live peacocks tethered to the
entrance. On the inside the Malfoy’s had enough space for a dining room, kitchen and two
bedrooms along with space for them sit around on sofas. The entire interior was
monochromatic, giving the whole tent an air of cleanliness and decorum. Harry watched as
Lucius lit the fire with a swish of his wand before he settled on one of the sofas, taking off his
cloak and resting his cane to the side.

“I took the liberty of giving you two the other bedroom,” he said then shot Draco a pointed
look. “Don’t tell your mother.”

“Thank you, Father,” Draco smiled bashfully. “Come on.”

He quickly pulled Harry into the bedroom, closing them off from Lucius by pulling a curtain
along. He then turned to Harry and pressed a desperate kiss to her mouth. “I’ve been wanting
to do that all day,” he grinned.

Harry giggled, “We’ve barely been apart all day.”

“I know, but…you had to sneak out this morning.”

Harry blushed profusely at the memory of waking in Draco’s arms, the feeling of something
poking her leg as she stretched and the curiosity that filled her when she realised what it was.
“I’m sure you managed to occupy yourself without me.”

Draco kissed her again. “It’s not the same. Not when I had such a creature in my bed.”

“You sound like a romance novel,” she chuckled.

“You say that like it’s not doing anything to you,” he purred.

Harry leaned in to kiss him back. “Maybe a little…”

Draco pulled her closer, taking the lead and walking them backwards till Harry’s legs hit the
edge of the bunk. With little effort, he toppled them both onto the bunk and slipped his
tongue into her mouth when she gasped at the feeling. Harry sighed into the kiss, running her
hands down his back until they came up to tangle in his blonde hair.

“Wish we could do this more often,” she sighed as he began kissing down her neck.

“Maybe we can. I certainly don’t mind skipping classes for this,” he snickered.

Harry scoffed, “Yeah, that’d be an interesting detention to talk my way out of.”

“I’ll talk to Snape.”

“Better yet, let’s fire Snape.”

Draco paused to shoot her a pointed look. “Harry, we’ve talked about this. We can’t go
around firing whoever we like.”

“That was about you trying to get Hagrid fired, you git,” she grumbled. “Not greasy-haired
snakes who torment your girlfriend.”

He sighed and began kissing her neck again. “I’ll have a word with Father, but I don’t think
it’ll do much. Snape hates your guts.”

“Oh? And I’m the childish one,” she huffed. “I’ve got dead parents and an endless list of
people trying to kill me. What’s his trauma?”

Draco laughed softly for a moment then paused. “What were you dreaming about last night?”
he asked suddenly.

Harry stilled. “What do you mean?”

“You were shaking. Muttering in your sleep. What did you see?”

She saw no reason not to tell him. “Voldemort. I saw Voldemort but not-not as he was. He’s
frail. Wormtail was there and-and another man.”

Draco bit his lip. “What did he look like?”

“Scrawny. He did this-this weird thing with his tongue. Like a snake.” She paused. “He-he
killed a man, a Muggle that was the groundskeeper. Without a second thought.”

Draco said nothing, just pressed himself against her and pressed loving kisses to her cheek. It
didn’t matter that it had killed the mood, he just wanted her to start opening up to him more.
If nightmares were going to become a regular occurrence, he needed to make sure he had
something in place to ease them for her. ‘Maybe I should talk to Grainger about it’, he
considered as he watched the rise and fall of Harry’s chest.

----
Draco held Harry’s hand tightly as they climbed the stairs to the box, trying their best to keep
close to Lucius who strode in front of them with his cane clanking against the metal with
each step. Harry was happily sporting the Bulgarian hat atop her head whilst Draco had the
team’s scarf draped around his neck. They were both dressed smartly beneath their robes,
unlike most of the other spectators, the Malfoys and Harry would be in the same box as the
Minister and his friends. Despite Harry’s outburst at the gala, or maybe even because of that,
Fudge had extended an invitation to the three of them to join him.

As they climbed, Harry paused as she heard a familiar voice: “Blimey, Dad, how high up are
we?”

Lucius scowled as he too noted the voice of Ron, looking up to see the Weasley family along
with Hermione along the top row. “Well, if it rains, you’ll be the first to know,” he cried back.

Hermione caught Harry’s gaze, gesturing with her head the way that Draco had been nuzzling
her neck. She shot her a pointed look to which the dark-haired girl replied with a sheepish
smile.
Draco pecked a kiss to Harry’s cheek before nodding to Hermione in acknowledgement.
Hermione had greatly appreciated the cashmere sweater he had sent her as an apology for
how he acted last year, which Harry was happy to note she was currently wearing beneath her
robes.

“Father and I were personally invited by Cornelius Fudge himself,” Draco said haughtily.

Ron scowled before turning to Harry. “You doin’ alright, Harry?”

“Never better, Ron,” she cried back.

She didn’t mention the nightmare she’d had about Voldemort. Draco had only managed to
weasel it out of her because he’d caught her off guard. Besides, she was hardly going to
announce it during a quidditch match. Her gaze travelled along the line of Weasley’s till they
settled on the familiar face of Cedric Diggory. Cedric was one of the most handsome boys at
Hogwarts, and much older than Harry was, with a crooked grin that made even Hermione
blush at the sight of it. Ron had said the Diggory’s were coming too in his most recent letter,
that Amos Diggory worked alongside Mr Weasley at the Ministry.

“Blimey, Harry Potter!” Amos cried out.

Harry blushed, tucking a stay hair behind her ear as she waved awkwardly up at him. “Hi, Mr
Diggory. Cedric.”

“Heard my Ced beat you last year, Harry!”

Draco scowled beside her, “He didn’t beat her. She was attacked by dementors.”

Amos wasn’t listening though, even as Cedric blushed with embarrassment and cast Harry an
apologetic look. Harry couldn’t help but smile though. She’d never had someone so
embarrassingly proud of her before, besides Sirius she supposed.
Draco pulled her along till they were entering the Top Box that was already filled with
several people Harry recognised from the gala. The Top Box was much more luxurious than
the seats Ron and Hermione were in, with sofas arranged throughout like a Muggle cinema
and a bar at the back of the room where a house elf was perched making drinks.

“Ah, Lucius! So glad you could make it,” Fudge beamed.

He then turned to introduce Harry to the Bulgarian Minister, who was wearing splendid robes
of black velvet. “This is Harry Potter. The Girl Who Lived!” he said loudly. “Oh come on
now…”

Harry wasn’t sure why Fudge didn’t have a translator with him, or if that was just a Muggle
thing. She blushed in embarrassment though as the Bulgarian wizard pointed at her scar in
realisation.

Fudge sighed, turning back to Harry, “I’m hopeless with languages. Really need Barty
Crouch for this sort of thing. Oh, Barty!”

Next to Fudge stood a man with a moustache that reminded Harry of Charlie Chaplin, with
an almost-skull like wrinkled face. He looked unlike the other wizards that were surrounding
him, dressed only in a well-made black suit that Harry knew Uncle Vernon would mistake for
a Muggle.

“Barty, my man, you know Lucius Malfoy, I’m sure. He has just made a very generous
contribution to St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He is here as my
guest.”

Barty Crouch nodded to Lucius, who inclined his head in acknowledgement to the other man
politely. “Harry, Draco, this is Barty Crouch. He’s in charge of International Magical
Relations and helped organise today’s match with the Bulgarians,” Lucius explained.

There was a strange look exchanged between the pair of them and Harry instantly knew that
Lucius didn’t like the other man. Not that Lucius liked many people, but it was becoming
more noticeable the more time she spent with him.

Crouch smiled pleasantly at Harry. “Miss Potter. What a pleasure to meet you finally.”

Harry shook his hand firmly. “Pleasure to meet you too, Mr Crouch.”

Crouch seemed to wince at Harry’s touch, and a part of Harry wondered if he too was a
follower of Voldemort. Did he, like Quirrell, fear her touch? ‘No,’ she thought. ‘He wouldn’t
have shaken my hand otherwise’.

As soon as Crouch and Fudge moved out of earshot, Harry glanced up at Lucius. “One of
your lot?”

“No,” Lucius replied with pursed lips. “He was in charge of hunting down and persecuting
anyone who followed You Know Who during the war.”

“What happened?”
“His methods weren’t exactly… ethical. Personally, I’d like to see him eradicated, but he has
his uses, I suppose.”

Harry scoffed, “I do wonder if you like anyone you work with.”

“Liking somebody is subjective, my dear Harriet. You’ll learn that you don’t need to like
somebody in order to work with them. That is the way of the world.”

Harry glanced back at the other officials and murmured, “Noted.”

Suddenly Draco was pulling her towards the front of the box where the pitch was finishing
being set up. Harry grinned at the sight of players coming out, whooping at the sight of
Viktor Krum much to Draco’s chagrin. She placed a kiss against his lips, uncaring of the
officials behind them. She’d never been one to hide from public displays of affection, after
all.

----

The entire field was awash with green smoke as the Irish flooded the arena with cheers and
smoke bombs. Lucius guided Harry and Draco back to the tent as quickly as possible to avoid
the rush, insisting that it was best to wait out the celebrations in the comfort of the tent than
with others. Normally Harry would wonder why Lucius was in such a rush to leave such an
important networking event, but she supposed anyone looking after teenagers would want to
get them somewhere safe before something kicked off. Raucous singing filled the night as
Lucius closed the tent behind them. Harry hummed happily along, pulling Draco into a little
dance before the pair of them collapsed on one of the sofas.

-----

They awoke to screaming. Harry bolted out of the tent, horrified at what she saw. People
were running towards the woods, terrified, as something moved between the tents which was
emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. As they drew closer, Harry noticed that
it was in fact a group of masked wizards.

Draco grabbed her hand and hissed, “We’ve got to run. Now.”

“Where’s your dad?!”

“I don’t know. Just run.”

He began pulling her in the direction everyone else was running to when she suddenly
stopped. “Ron. Hermione. I need to find them!”

Draco scowled, “They’ll be fine. Mr Weasley will have told them to go to the woods, just like
we should be doing.”

Harry ignored him and grabbed him by his jacket. “Is your dad out there? Is he one of the
men in masks?”
A strange look cast over Draco’s face as he avoided her gaze. “I-I don’t know. Please, Harry,
we need to run. The Ministry is coming.”

Sure enough, there were wizards and witches running towards the group. Harry knew that Mr
Weasley would be in the fray, she just hoped that Lucius wasn’t there. “Fine,” she hissed.
“Help me find them then.”

Draco nodded and without another word, the pair ran back into the fleeing crowd. This
proved to be a mistake as the crowd became more frantic and thicker as they approached, and
Harry’s hand slipped from Draco’s grasp. Draco yelled her name as she fell to the ground, her
head smacking against the ground instantly.

-----

Harry awoke on the cold ground with ringing in her ears, the majority of the campsite was
now a land of discarded tents, chairs and outdoor fires. She staggered to her feet when she
suddenly heard movement.

“Morsmordre!”

A skull composed of green smoke emerged in the sky with a serpent protruding from its
mouth like a tongue. Beneath which stood a man, slender and masked by the darkness of the
field. Something in her knew that symbol, but she couldn’t think of where she’d seen it
before.

“Harry!”

She heard Hermione’s voice cry out through the field. ‘Shit’, she thought as the stranger
turned to face her. Then she was being pulled tightly into an embrace, and was startled to find
herself face to face with Draco.

“Never do that again,” he panted and brought her in closer again.

“Wha-?”

Hermione and Ron bounded up behind Draco, relief flooding their faces. “Thank Merlin,
Harry, we thought we’d lost you.”

“How did-?”

“Draco found us, said he’d lost you in the crowd and demanded we help find you,” Ron
grumbled. “Not that we weren’t going to do it anyway.”

“Are you ok?” Hermione asked softly.

“I’m fine. I think I just hit my head and-and what the hell is that?!” she demanded, pointing
up at the sky.

The three of them paled instantly. “It’s his mark, Harry. You Know Who’s mark.”
Before Harry could say anything else, they were surrounded by twenty wizards and witches,
all of who aimed their wands right at the four of them. “Stupefy!”

The four of them ducked, huddling together as the spells went over their heads. “Stop,” a
voice yelled out. “That’s my son!”

Harry raised her head to find Mr Weasley bursting through the crowd, a look of terror on his
face as he did so. Some of the wizards had yet to lower their wands when a second voice
sounded through the field: “Get your wand out of my son’s face, Diggory.”

Draco straightened to his full height, keeping an arm wrapped around Harry’s waist.
“Father!”

Lucius’ face was murderous as he entered the circle, glaring at every single one of his co-
workers before all of the wands were lowered. He then turned to Harry and Draco, cupping
their faces tenderly. “Are you alright?” he murmured.

“We-we’re fine,” Harry stuttered. She took Lucius’ appearance in, wondering if his shortness
of breath was from running to find them or running away from the Ministry.

“Which one of you did it?” Barty Crouch demanded, his eyes darting between the four
teenagers. “You’ve been discovered at the scene of the crime.”

“Oh, Crouch, honestly,” Lucius huffed.

“Barty, they’re just kids. They wouldn’t know how to-and Harry-Harry definitely wouldn’t
do this…” Mr Weasley said quickly.

“I will ask the questions here!”

Harry’s eye twitched and she stepped forward to snap: “We didn’t do anything! The Mark
came from over there.” She pointed into the direction of where the man had been, her eyes
never leaving Crouch’s for a moment.

Crouch’s wand was raised, pointed directly at Harry. “Why should I believe you, girl?”

Lucius and Mr Weasley both subtly moved as if to block Crouch from Harry when she
hissed: “You are not the first wizard to threaten me, sir. So, unless you have any actual
evidence to suggest we did do this, I’d lower your wand. And never call me ‘girl’ again.”

A tinge of pride filled Lucius as he watched Crouch lower his wand before leading the others
over to the other side of the field to investigate. Harry sighed in relief before daring to glance
up at Lucius. ‘Where were you, Lucius?’ she wondered sadly.

--

Lucius was sound asleep when Harry eventually turned over to face Draco in their bed. Draco
looked at her sadly and whispered: “You’re going to ask me if Father was involved, aren’t
you?”
“If they had found Hermione, would they-”
“No.”

Harry frowned, “You seem very certain.”

“Because I told Grainger if she stuck by me, she was less likely to get attacked. Even if
Father was there, there’s no way any of that lot would attack with you and me there.”

“Why?”

Draco sighed, “Because…she’s the best friend to the Girl Who Lived. She’s too high profile
for the likes of them. If someone was going to hurt her, it wouldn’t be one of the ones who
got out of Azkaban last time. It’d be someone who You Know Who would see as loyal, who
admitted their crimes.” He paused. “That’s why they all disappeared when the Mark
appeared.”

“You’re telling me that the Death Eaters are afraid of Voldemort?”

Draco winced at the name. “Wouldn’t you be? If someone like that came back, you wouldn’t
want to be on his bad side,” he admitted softly.

Harry considered Draco for a moment. “Are you worried about your dad then?”

“After tonight…definitely.”

Without another word, Harry shuffled forward and rested her head on his chest. She
wondered just how evil a man like Voldemort could be, if even his followers were scared of
him fourteen years later.
 The Fourth Champion
Chapter Notes

And the Triwizard Tournament begins! With a little overprotective Draco and Slytherin
bonding too.

Harry felt numb the entire journey to Hogwarts, but as she sat beside Draco at the Slytherin
table, she felt like she could finally breathe again. Draco kept his hand on hers atop the table,
even as he talked to Blaise about the World Cup. The Slytherins looked at each other with a
look Harry couldn’t quite place. It was as if they couldn’t quite believe that the rumours were
all true, that the Dark Mark had indeed lit up that field and Harry had been in the middle of it
all.

Then Dumbledore took to his lectern and the Great Hall fell silent.

-----

It had been a strange couple of days, Harry would admit. First, that Mad Eye Moody was
their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher when Ron confided in her that he wasn’t
exactly stable. Second, that Hermione had begun a campaign on house elf rights and that it
was slave labour if they weren’t paid. With the exception of Dobby, Harry had to agree with
Ron that no house elf that she’d met seemed entirely concerned with things such as pensions
and holidays. Thirdly, that the school was jampacked with men in red military dress and girls
in blue silk uniforms.

The Triwizard Tournament. Harry considered for a moment why it had been so long since the
Tournament had been held, and if Lucius had still been a governor, would he have allowed it
to be reinstated. Somehow, she doubted it. She watched as other students stepped into the
ring of fire to drop their name into the goblet, wondering what exactly they would face if they
were selected.

“Please tell me you’re not planning some hair-raised scheme to volunteer,” Draco drawled as
he slung an arm around her shoulders.

“I think I’ve had enough near-death experiences to last me a lifetime,” she chuckled.
“Besides, as much as I like breaking the rules, I think even the Minister of Magic would take
issue with me putting my name down.”

“Father would certainly kick up a fuss if you did.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” she muttered dryly.

-----
Mad Eye Moody was both brilliant and terribly unnerving, Harry decided as she sat in his
classroom for the first time. He seemed perpetually angry at something, which she couldn’t
understand. She also didn’t understand why he’d want to take up a teaching position after so
many years as an Auror. Surely, he’d want a quieter life than the one that Hogwarts offered.
Draco seemed nervous around him, that much was certain and the topic of their first lesson
didn’t help matters.

“Can anyone tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?”

“Three, sir.”

“And they are so named?”

Hermione glanced back at Harry. “Because they are unforgivable. Using anyone of them
would-”

“Land you a one way ticket to Azkaban. Correct. Now the Ministry says you’re too young to
know these spells, but I say different.” He turned away from the class for a moment. “You
need to know what you’re up against. You need to be prepared. You need to find another
place for your chewing gum apart from your desk, Mr Finnegan!”

Harry stifled a giggle as Moody threw a piece of paper at Seamus for whispering his
complaint for getting caught.

“So, which one shall we see first? Weasley!” Ron swallowed thickly as he stared up at the
former auror. “Give us a curse.”

“Well, my dad did tell me about one…the Imperius Curse.”

Moody nodded thoughtfully, “Aye, your father would know all about that. Gave the Ministry
a fair bit of grief a few years back. Let me show you why.”

The classroom filled with laughter and quickly dissipated after the display with the spider,
and Harry’s heart sank as she realised what the curse was actually meant for. How many
muggleborns had been made to do something against their wills?

“Scores of witches and wizards,” Moody continued with the spider settled in his hand.
“Claimed that they only did You Know Whos’ bidding under the influence of the Imperius
Curse. But here’s the rub: how do we sort out the liars?”

Harry glanced at Draco, noting the way that he looked at the Professor with a blank stare. She
wondered if Lucius had been one of those people. There was no way of proving it, of course,
and the lie would have fell so easily from Lucius’ tongue. She turned back to see Moody
interrogating Neville about the Cruciartus Curse, watching the way that Neville’s face paled
at the sight of the tortured spider. There was something more to it though, like Neville was
imagining something worse.

“That’s enough, Mad Eye,” she snapped.

Moody’s eye flickered to hers and suddenly the spider was no longer writhing in agony on
Neville’s desk. Neville stared blankly ahead even as Moody patted his back in comfort.
Moody settled his gaze on Harry now, watching her curiously as she narrowed her eyes at
him.

“Now, we have our last curse.” He placed the spider in front of Harry and with a mutter of
words and flash of green light, the spider lay dead. Harry stilled, but kept her gaze on Moody.
“The Killing Curse. Only one person has ever been known to survive it and she’s in this
room.”

Tears pricked Harry’s eyes as she remembered the vision she had last year of her mother’s
death. Draco’s hand clenched hers tightly. “I’m afraid, Professor, if you’re looking for a re-
enactment, I’m going to have to refuse,” she murmured. “My mother can only die protecting
me once.”

Moody’s mouth twitched and he suddenly reached for his flask, downing whatever was inside
of it.

----

The Slytherins formed a wall as Draco led Harry out of the classroom, preventing Moody
from coming near her. Draco found the nearest broom cupboard and pulled her inside,
holding her by her shoulders as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Are you alright?”

Harry sighed, “Yeah, reliving trauma is part of my charm.”

Draco shook his head. “He shouldn’t have done that. Merlin knows how triggering that could
be for you.”

“I don’t remember it, Draco.”

“But you remember enough. Last year you said you heard your mum’s last words.” He
looked her straight in the eye. “Is this going to set your nightmares off again? If so, I’ll march
straight to Dumbledore and owl Father.”

Harry laughed softly, “You are such a daddy’s boy.”

“I mean it, Harry, I don’t want another teacher here who’s going to give you nightmares.”

“The only thing Lockhart gave me was carpal tunnel after going through his fan mail,” she
snorted. “I’m fine, baby, I’m just-sometimes I forget how easy it must have been for him to
kill them. Just one spell and -poof- no more Potters.”

Draco cupped her cheek tenderly. “He didn’t get you though.” He leaned forward and pressed
a kiss against her scar. “Although, that being said you do have a habit of nearly dying, not all
of which can be attributed to You Know Who.”
“A fact I’m sure he’s very bitter about,” she smirked and pecked him on the lips. “Don’t
worry, Draco, I’m not going anywhere. I just want a quiet year with no werewolves, snakes,
or psychopaths to worry about.”

“Whatever you say, baby,” he said and kissed her again.

----

“Harry Potter?”

The Great Hall fell silent and Harry froze as she heard her name spill from Dumbledore’s lips
as he held that strange fourth piece of paper in his hand. ‘No’, she thought. The students were
whispering amongst themselves, looking back at her in thinly veiled jealousy and bitterness.

“Harry Potter!”

Harry felt Hermione push her forward from the benches they’d been clambered upon. She
listened to the other students shout out from the darkness of the Hall.

“She’s a cheat!”

“She’s not even seventeen yet!”

Her heart sank as she walked slowly towards Dumbledore who silently pressed the piece of
paper into her hand. There in a script she couldn’t quite recognise, she saw her own name.
She shook her head up at him, pleading silently for him to tell her this was all some joke. He
simply looked at her strangely, and gestured for her to follow the others out of the Great Hall.
She hadn’t even managed to catch a glimpse of Draco, but she knew that he was furious with
her right now.

-----

Harry wanted to start crying as she listened to the professors and Barty Crouch descend into
the room the champions had been put in. She had expected that. She hoped that Dumbledore
knew that her skills weren’t as advanced as his were. What she didn’t expect was for Draco to
appear after them, barely being held back by Snape.

“Draco?”

His eyes landed on hers and before the professors could reach her, he leapt out of Snape’s
hold and was clutching her robes tightly as he demanded: “Did you do it? Tell me you didn’t
put your name in.”

“Of course, I didn’t!” Tears streamed down her face as she looked back into his silver eyes.

Madame Maxine sniffed, “But of course, she is lying!”

Dumbledore turned to her then and asked calmly: “Harry, did you put your name in the
Goblet of Fire?”
“No, sir.”

Dumbledore nodded and turned to the others. “There you have it then.”

“Oh, please,” Snape sneered. “Potter’s been breaking the rules since she got here-!”

“Thank you, Severus.”

Harry ignored the others as they continued to complain and kept her focus on Draco, whose
eyes were wide with fear. “Draco, I promise you, on Sirius’ life that I didn’t do this.”

The blonde boy nodded then pulled her to him, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
“Then why-?” he whispered.

Harry’s ears perked up as she heard Moody leap to her defence with a well-timed grumble.
“It would have taken an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle the Goblet of
Fire like that. Way beyond the skills of a Fourth Year.”

“You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Mad Eye,” Karkaroff sneered.

“It was once my job to think like Dark wizards do, Karkaroff,” Moody growled.

“Will you all just shut it?!” Harry snapped. The room fell silent, everyone staring at Harry in
disbelief. “What does this mean for me?”

Barty Crouch, who had been decidedly quiet throughout the whole ordeal, looked at her with
a pale face. “The Goblet of Fire is a legally binding contract. It means…Miss Potter, you
have no other choice but to compete.”

Harry swallowed thickly, “You mean compete in the very hard, near-death experience,
against three older students who know a lot more magic than me?”

Crouch nodded. “Oh for fu-!”

“Potter!” McGonagall cried.

----

Draco led Harry back to the Slytherin common room in silence, Snape following behind them
with a sneer until they came to the passageway. The pair slipped inside and were met with
silence. The Slytherins that had stayed up simply glanced at them, noting the way that Harry
was being held so tightly by Draco and how she looked as if she was about to burst into tears.
They stayed silent, even as Draco walked her to her dorm room.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she croaked.

He kissed her forehead and watched her slip inside her room, where Daphne Greengrass was
sat waiting for her. Harry paused. Daphne and Harry had barely spoken for the first three
years of school, but she seemed nice enough. She had beautiful blonde hair and a cunning
smile laced with lip gloss. Ron had admitted once that she was the prettiest girl in Slytherin,
but had quickly changed the subject. She was far nicer than Pansy was at any rate.

“What are you-?”

“I told Pansy to not come to bed till you were asleep. Crabbe and Goyle brought you some
blankets and chocolate from Draco’s room, and Blaise has been hexing anyone who’s tried to
badmouth you,” she replied coolly.

“Why?”

Daphne sighed, “If you say you didn’t put your name in, we believe you.”

Harry frowned, “Why?”

“Because, like it or not, you are a Slytherin. And in Slytherin, we look after our own.” She
then walked to the door. “I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”

“Daphne?” The other girl paused in the open doorway. “Thank you.”

Daphne smiled, “Your welcome, Potter.”

 Of Rules and Tabloids
Chapter Notes

Lucius is back! Defending Harry with the full force of the Malfoys.

It came to no one’s surprise when Lucius Malfoy appeared at Hogwarts, his black cape
swirling in the wind as he stormed through the corridors and his cane clicking against the
stone floor. He burst into the Great Hall with Snape at his side, his eyes immediately settling
on Draco and Harry.

“Draco! Harry!”

Harry ran to Lucius, embracing him tightly and burying her face into his chest. Lucius petted
her black hair tenderly. Even if she didn’t entirely trust Lucius wasn’t involved with the
World Cup incident, she did trust that he would keep her safe. ‘Keep your enemies close’, she
thought bitterly.

She lifted her head to stare up at Lucius and murmured, “This isn’t going away, is it?”

“Leave it with me,” he replied before he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. He then
turned to leave with Snape in tow.

----

“What kind of operation are you running here, Crouch?” Lucius snarled as he burst into
Dumbledore’s office where the professors and Crouch were sat waiting for him. “Allowing a
fourteen-year-old girl to compete when this was clearly done with malice?”

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Crouch asked, his brow furrowed as he took in the
blonde man.

“I take Harry’s safety very seriously, as Dumbledore is fully aware of by now.”

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, “Quite. This is the…third time you’ve been in this office to
discuss Harry’s safety.”

“I never thought I’d see the day Lucius Malfoy would care for a half-blood’s wellbeing,” a
familiar accented drawl came from behind Severus. Lucius looked back to find Ivor
Karkaroff glaring back at him, dressed all in white.

“Ivor…still clinging to Krum’s quidditch prowess, I see,” Lucius sneered. “What luck your
champion happens to be your meal ticket.”
“Oh? I don’t see my son dating the Girl Who Lived.”

Lucius huffed, “Am I supposed to apologise for my son’s love-life now? Oh, how the mighty
have fallen.”

“Speak for yourself,” Karkaroff snarled.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and turned to Dumbledore. “We can’t let her compete, Albus.
She’ll surely be killed.”

“You heard Barty, the rules are clear.”

“Well damn Barty and his rules. Since when have you cared about them?!” She glanced at
Crouch. “No offence.”

Crouch shifted uneasily in his seat. “What happened is very serious, but I don’t know what
you expect me to do about it?”

Lucius’ eyes narrowed with fury and he clutched the head of his cane tightly. “How about
you protect the life of a fourteen year old girl who isn’t at all ready for this?” He paused and
sighed wearily, “What are the chances of Harry surviving this?”

Dumbledore considered the blonde man carefully. “As likely as any other situation she had
been in, I’d say.”

McGonagall pursed her lips. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this. Potter is just a
child.”

“They all are, Minerva,” Dumbledore replied coolly.

Snape stepped forward suddenly and said, “Headmaster, I too feel this is a strange
coincidence. Yet given the circumstances, I suggest we allow Potter to compete in order to
see the meaning of these events.”

McGonagall stared at him in disbelief. “Offer her up as bait? Potter is a girl, not a piece of
meat!”

Lucius raised his gaze to glare at Snape. “I would truly be disappointed if you were allowing
your past jealousies to dictate young Harry’s fate, Severus.”

“Don’t even go there, Lucius.”

“I agree with Severus,” Dumbledore replied coolly. The others stared at him in disbelief.
“Lucius, I know you will do your best to support her. And, Alastair, I’d like you to watch her
-but be subtle. She is known to be quite stubborn when it comes to accepting help.”

Lucius sighed heavily, “Then it is decided then.”

“I’m afraid, it is.”

-----

“Can’t I just turn up and not compete?” Harry whined as she slumped her head against one of
the desks in the common room.

Blaise flicked through the Rule Book for the Tournament idly and sighed, “Not unless you’re
badly injured or dead.”

Harry moved her leg out in front of Draco and gestured to the expanse of her bare leg. “Come
on then, break it for me.”

“I’m not breaking your leg, Harry,” he sighed. “Pomfrey would only have it fixed it way
before the first task.”

“Where’s your father when I bloody need him?” she pouted.

“Calm down, we’ll get through this, alright?” Draco muttered as he sat down next to her.

“How can I? Ron’s not speaking to me!”

Draco’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because he thinks I cheated and his latent insecurities about being the youngest son are
manifesting in his envy of my fame,” she grumbled.

He ran a hand down his face and rolled his eyes, “Of course, that’s what this is about. You
going to forgive him?”

“Obviously. He’s Ron. I just want to let him cool down for a bit.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned.

-----

Harry stared out onto the lake as she considered what being a champion would mean. Lucius
had apologised profusely when he returned from speaking with the professors, holding her
tightly and asking if she needed anything. She had asked for only one thing: Sirius. She
didn’t want him finding out before it made the front pages of the Daily Prophet, and Lucius
had hesitantly accepted owling a letter to Sirius wherever he was. Nobody would think twice
if Lucius sent a random owl, rather than the noticeable white feathers of Hedwig. She was
sure that Hedwig would appreciate the rest.

As for the rest of Hogwarts, the students had turned Harry into something of a social pariah.
Few Gryffindor’s spoke to her now, and it seemed only Slytherins were actually making a
point of acknowledging her around school. The Hufflepuffs were being irritatingly distant,
which was a strange feat for a house that never won at anything and was full of ‘friendly’
students. Harry only felt happy when she returned to Draco’s arms at the end of the day and
the Slytherin’s left them be.

“I’m sorry Father couldn’t get you out of it,” Draco muttered as he sat beside her.
“It’s fine. It was a slim shot anyway.” She paused. “You know, they have some reporter
coming to interview us this week. Don’t even know what I’d say. That it was an accident?
Some mean trick? That somebody probably wants me dead?”

“Somebody always wants you dead, babe.” He glanced at her. “In a good way.”

“If you’re trying to cheer me up, I suggest you start again,” she muttered dryly.

Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Alright then. Is Weasley
talking to you yet?”

“Nope.”

“Want me to knock some sense into him?”

Harry sighed, “No. He’s either going to talk to me or he isn’t. Besides, Hermione’s already
had a word with him. He won’t listen.”

“He’s an idiot then.”

“On that, we can agree.” She leaned into his touch and sighed heavily, “How is this my life?”

“Well, you’re not boring I’ll give you that much,” he snickered. She swatted him playfully on
the arm and chuckled before snuggling back into him.

-----

Harry disliked publicity and cameras, more so when Draco wasn’t there to hold her hand and
tell her it’ll be over soon. She particularly disliked being pulled from class to meet Rita
Skeeter from the Daily Prophet. She appreciated being pulled from Potions when Snape was
being his usual nasty self, but this was something else entirely. Rita Skeeter was a frightening
thing to look at with an almost crazed look in her eyes as she took in Harry’s skinny form
beside the others’. Harry wanted to bolt the second the other woman noted the scar on her
forehead.

“Shall we start with the youngest?” she asked gleefully before all but pulling Harry into a
nearby broom cupboard. She plopped Harry down on a crate and pulled a Quick-Quotes quill
out of her purse.

“So, Harry…why did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?”

Harry adjusted her robes with a huff, “Simple really, I didn’t.”

She chuckled softly, “Now, no need to be shy, Harry. You won’t get in trouble here. Everyone
loves a rebel -my readers especially.”

“That may be but I still didn’t put my name into the goblet,” Harry muttered dryly.

Her eye twitched in annoyance before switching tactics. “Well, you’re no ordinary witch,
after all. The Girl Who Lived. So, knowing your legacy, how do you feel about the tasks
ahead?”

“I-I hadn’t given them much thought,” she replied as she shifted uncomfortably on the crate.

“Champions have died in the past, haven’t they? Are you concerned?”

“No more so than I am any other year,” she murmured. “Ask around. People try to kill me a
lot.”

“Do you think that the trauma of your parents’ deaths might have made you so keen to prove
yourself?” Rita Skeeter continued. “Speaking of your parents -were they alive- do you think
they would be worried about you competing?”

Harry rolled her eyes. ‘Of course, she’s asking about Mum and Dad. Draco warned me about
that. It’s all they ever care about. The dead parents thing.’ She ran a hand through a hair,
ruffling it as she did so. Frowning, she avoided her gaze and looked down at the words the
quill was writing. ‘Tears fill those startling green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents
she can barely remember’.

Harry shook her head as she muttered, “You’re unbelievable, you know that? Turning to the
dead parents gimmick. For starters, I don’t talk about my parents to strangers. Second, I did
not put my name in the Goblet of Fire -not that you care about that, as it won’t sell you
enough papers.”

She stood up suddenly and moved to slip past Rita Skeeter. “What about your relationship
with Draco Malfoy? Does the fact that his father was a known Death Eater interfere with
your relationship? Do you feel the need to prove your worth to him?”

“Nope, and if you put him in your paper then I’m sure you’ll be hearing from his lawyers
pretty soon,” Harry snapped. With that, Harry stormed out of the broom cupboard and
straight towards the others.

----

“I’m going to kill her!” Harry growled as she slammed the Daily Prophet down on the
Slytherin table.

The others barely flinched as they noted the fury burning within Harry’s green eyes. Draco
hurriedly read over the words and scowled, “That bitch.”

Rita Skeeter’s article wasn’t so much about the Tournament as it was about Harry. She had
insisted on individual shots of the champions, and naturally a photograph of Harry trying her
hardest not to scowl was on the front page. Nothing Harry had actually said had made it into
the article. Instead quotes such as: ‘I know nothing will hurt me during this Tournament,
because they’re watching over me’ had made it instead.

Blaise peered at the article and frowned, “I never knew you to be so eloquent.”

“Sod off, Zabini,” Harry hissed.

She anxiously glanced at Draco as he read over a particular passage: ‘Harry has also managed
to find love at Hogwarts in the form of pureblood heir Draco Malfoy. Malfoy is the son of
Lucius Malfoy, who most notably was a follower of You Know Who during the war. It seems
that this hasn’t affected Harry’s relationship with his son, however, as many students have
commented to this reporter about the tumultuous relationship the pair have’.

“Surprised she didn’t bring up Black. Make a trifecta of it,” he grumbled. “She’s staying in
Hogsmeade apparently. She’s covering the first task.”

Harry groaned, putting her head against the table. “Merlin, don’t remind me! I’m going to
look like such an idiot out there…if I don’t end up dying.”

“Ever the optimist.” He paused. “Do you think we’re tumultuous?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what it means,” she whined.

“It means loud”, Blaise replied. “And as someone whose usually present during your fights, I
can attest to that.”

Harry shot him a glare. “Thanks, Blaise, we appreciate the support.”

Blaise ruffled her hair with a smirk, “Your welcome, Potter. Oh, and by the way you got an
owl earlier."

He slid an envelope over to her, which she clutched eagerly as she noted the familiar
handwriting. 'Sirius'. She turned to Draco and asked, "You don't think Sirius could get me out
of it, do you? He is my legal guardian, after all."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Baby, it's the Triwizard Tournament, not a Hogsmeade visit!"

Harry shrugged and leaned into Draco's side, hiding the letter within her robes for later.
"Worth a shot."

--

Harry returned to the common room, the Invisibility Cloak tucked under her arm, to find
Draco waiting for her with a blanket wrapped around his legs and a book in his lap. "What
did Hagrid want?" he grunted as he shut his book.

Harry blinked. "Dragons."

"He's not getting another one is he?"

"No. The task. It's dragons," she huffed. "Ron's brother is down in the Forest handling them
right now." Her hands shook as she sat down beside him on the sofa, the leather creaking
under her weight.

"Dragons...right. Well, at least we can do a bit of research beforehand. Don't suppose the
Weasley gave you any tips?"
"He-he didn't know I was there," she admitted weakly. She glanced at the cloak, holding it
tightly. "I was hiding in the bushes."

"Ah. Well, I suppose it could be worse."

Harry scoffed, "How could this be worse?"

"I don't know. It's just something people say."

Groaning, she moved to lie against him so that her head was against his chest. His fingers
carded through her black hair and she sighed, "I just wanted a normal year at school."

"I know, baby. I know."

 The First Task
Chapter Notes

Hope you enjoy the First Task chapter! Next one is the Yule Ball

Dragons had never been high on Harry’s list of priorities. The chances of one being anywhere
near Hogwarts aside from Norbert were slim. Yet she still found herself surrounded by every
book that mentioned dragons in their index at a table in the library as Hermione talked at her.
She planted her face on the open book in front of her, groaning in frustration at her inability
to think of a practical way to defeat a dragon. She doubted Charlie Weasley would appreciate
it if she managed to kill the beast. Hagrid would never forgive her.

Her ears pricked up to the sound of Mad Eye Moody’s leg clunking against the wood floor.
She turned her head hesitantly to find him towering above her. “Hard at work, I see, Potter,”
he grunted.

“Well, it’d be poor entertainment if I died within the first five minutes,” she muttered dryly.

He tilted his head, as if trying to figure her out. “Come with me.”

-----

Harry stood in the tent with the other Champions, trying to remember to breathe and to
remember what Moody had told her. She had a plan, which was a lot more of a plan than
simply winging it like she’d originally thought of. She was going to get her broom and if the
dragon started getting too close, she could always fly out of reach. ‘Unless it snaps its
restraints’, a rather unhelpful voice pointed out in her head. She sank her head into her hands
and let out a shaky breath.

Draco had been oddly silent as he held her hand tightly this morning. He’d brought her down
to the tent only to be told he wasn’t allowed inside as he wasn’t a champion or a teacher. She
wished he could stay with her, but she knew that he had to be in the stands for her turn. Of
course, being the fourth champion, she was the last to go.

She considered the other champions with a wary look. Fleur was anxiously pacing the tent,
her robes were the same pale blue of her uniform and her hair was tied back into a tidy
ponytail. Harry didn’t think much about Fleur, as the French girl seemed content in ignoring
Harry for the most part. Harry didn’t mind though. Cedric was still annoyingly charming and
attractive, who kept shooting her grateful looks as they heard the dragons roar outside. She
didn’t want to think how he would have reacted had he found out on the day that they were
facing dragons. Draco thought she was foolish for telling him, but Harry dint like the idea of
Cedric being disadvantaged against the three of them. Then there was Viktor Krum, who
seemed to crop up in the Library more often than Hermione did, who seemed equally as
rankled by the presence of Rita Skeeter as Harry was. Harry reasoned that Krum was likely in
the same position as she was: a famous teenager just trying to get through school. She didn’t
want to think about how much the boy had been hounded during his career by reporters just
like Rita Skeeter.

“Harry!” a voice hissed from the side of the tent.

Harry frowned, lifting her head to see a silhouette on the other side. “Hermione? What are
you doing here?”

“Draco sent me to check on you. Snape refuses to let him out of his sight.”

Moving closer to the side of the tent, Harry scoffed, “Of course he does.”

“You remember the spell, right?”

“Yeah, I mean I’ll try to remember it. Never studied it with an actual dragon before,” she
muttered bitterly. She paused. “How’s Draco?”

“He looks…scared. Like he might actually start a fight with someone if something happens
to you today.”

Harry scoffed, “Well, at least I know I’ll be avenged.”

“Oh, please don’t talk like that! You’ll be fine,” she sighed. “Worst case scenario, you just get
a little…burnt.”

“Gee, thanks,” Harry snorted.

Dumbledore stepped into the tent with the other professors and Hermione whispered a quick
‘good luck’ before disappearing again. Harry sighed as she turned back to the other
champions, hoping that she didn’t get the Hungarian Horntail.

-----

Harry’s nose wrinkled at the smell of her clothes, which now reeked of brimstone, as if she
had been stood next to a bonfire for hours. Her shoulder hurt like hell as she sat in the tent
again, awaiting Madame Pomfrey to stich up where the dragon had caught her. Pomfrey had
even wrapped a blanket around her, for shock apparently but Harry just felt that the orange
colour did nothing for her. She counted down the minutes it took for Hermione and Ron to
appear, closely followed by Draco. All three of them were at her side within seconds, fretting
over her.

“Whoever put your name in… they must be trying to do you in,” Ron muttered. It was the
first thing he’d said to her in weeks but somehow, she burst out laughing.

“Isn’t someone always trying to kill me?” she chuckled.

Ron met her gaze and the pair nodded at each other in silent agreement. ‘Enough is enough’.
Hermione had tears in her eyes as she realised, they had made up.

“What you crying for?!” Ron whined.

“You two idiots, of course! Honestly!” Hermione huffed.

Draco shot Harry a pointed look. “He doesn’t speak to you for weeks and you accept his
apology just like that.”

“I do it with you all the time for far greater issues,” Harry frowned. “Now, stop lecturing me
and fuss over me. Look, I’m injured. I’m in shock – I have a blanket!”

“I blink and you’re injured,” he muttered.

Harry pushed her glasses up her nose and sniffed, “And yet you keep rushing to my side.”

Draco rolled his eyes and kissed her grime-covered forehead. “Shut up and let Pomfrey fix
you up.”

“Yes, dear.”

-----

Holding the egg tightly to her, Harry allowed Draco to take her arm as they began to walk
back to the castle. She paused at the sight of Rita Skeeter in her acid-green robes standing
there, seemingly waiting for her.

“Harry, dear, hope you won’t mind a little comment about today’s task,” she crooned.

Harry glowered at her, “I’ll give you two. Fu-!”

Draco slapped his hand over her mouth. “No comment.”

He led Harry away and once they were out of earshot, Harry licked at his palm till he
removed it. “I could have handled that.”

“Darling, we’re trying to keep you out of that woman’s articles,” he sighed. “She is nothing
but trouble.”

“Is this where you tell me ‘your father will hear of this’ and she gets fired?” she muttered
dryly.

Draco shot her a pointed look. “You make it sound as if I say it a lot.”

Harry’s laughter carried as they continued walking back to the castle, earning the attention of
the other students who were following behind. A camera flashed just as Harry beamed back
at Draco, his hand kept securely around her waist.

-----
The egg perplexed her. She stared at it with a furrowed brow at one of the study tables in the
common room as if she stared at it long enough, the answer would reveal itself to her. She’d
tried opening it, of course, only to be met with an ear-shattering screech. Hermione had
looked up some sound-changing spells to see if it was a scrambled message but to no avail.

“I’ll give anyone a hundred galleons if they can figure out how to listen to this,” she
grumbled.

“Sorry, dear,” Blaise sighed. “I’m coming up with nothing.”

Harry let out a whine. “But I haven’t got that long till the next one!”

“We know, you’ve told us every day since the last one,” Draco huffed.

“You’re mean,” she pouted.

“I take it you don’t want these bon bons from Honeyduke’s then,” he replied as he waved a
Honeyduke’s bag in front of her face.

Harry snatched them out of his hands and plopped one in her mouth. “Angel. You’ve got
wings, baby.”

Draco rolled his eyes and muttered, “You are so easily subdued.”

“Oh, hush,” she replied as she pushed one into his mouth.
 The Yule Ball
Chapter Notes

Ok, guys, the Yule Ball chapter is here. Cue some more cuteness from Harry and Draco
and a little bit of Sirius love too!

“The Yule Ball is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament,” Snape scowled as he
addressed the entire of Slytherin. “You will attend. You will dance. You will not do anything
to bring embarrassment to me or this school. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Professor.”

Harry met Draco’s gaze and smiled conspiratorially. The very idea of Snape teaching them to
dance was hilarious. He clearly would much rather be dealing with Hagrid’s creatures than
standing there with a gramophone behind him and a free classroom cleared of its tables and
chairs.

“Now, I am supposed to be ensuring you know how to dance the waltz. Other professors may
be content to show you by dancing with a student. I am not. That being said: Malfoy. Potter.
You will demonstrate for us.”

Draco grinned as he moved to stand in front of her, offering her his hand. “May I have this
dance?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask,” she replied mockingly.

The pair chuckled as they moved to the middle of the room, and Draco pulled her into hold.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.

The Slytherins watched in mild amusement as the music played and the pair of them began a
slow waltz around the floor. Harry hummed in delight as Draco kept his hand on her waist in
time to the music. She caught his gaze and whispered, “You really are a Prince Charming,
aren’t you?”

“And you’re my princess,” he smirked. “My accident-prone princess.”

Harry laughed softly as he twirled her around. Snape gestured for the others to partner up and
practice, and Harry spied Blaise make a beeline for Daphne before Pansy could get to him.
She chuckled and tucked her head into Draco’s shoulder.

-----
Harry was feeling particularly smug about the fact that she already had a date for the Yule
Ball, as she watched the boys work up the nerve to ask the girls they liked. Ron, on the other
hand, was sulking that he couldn’t think of who to take.

“It’s not fair. You’ve got a boyfriend already,” he whined. “No girl looks twice at me.”

“Not when you’ve got a sour face like that,” Harry muttered dryly. “C’mon, there must be
someone who’ll go with you. Have you tried any of the Beauxbaton girls?”

“Don’t be daft! There’s no way they’d go with me,” he grumbled. He looked down the table
to where Hermione was sat actually studying. “So, Hermione…”

“Ron,” Harry whispered warningly.

It had been two days after the announcement of the Yule Ball that Hermione had pulled her
aside to tell her Viktor Krum had asked her to the Ball. It made sense, Harry reasoned. Krum
had spent nearly every day in the Library since arriving at Hogwarts, closely followed by his
gaggle of fangirls who annoyed Hermione to no end. Hermione and Krum were an odd pair,
and Hermione was three years younger but Harry still beamed with pride knowing her best
friend had outbid all the other girls. That didn’t mean though, that Hermione wanted to tell
Ron who her date was. Not when the reveal on the night would be so much more satisfying.

“For your information, Ronald, somebody’s already asked me. And I said yes,” she said
before storming off.

Ron looked back at Harry. “What’s up with her?”

Harry frowned at him, “You really are an idiot.”

“What?”

Harry shook her head and followed after Hermione, leaving Ron dumbfounded in study hall.

-----

“Well, of course, you’ll have to wear something sensational,” Narcissa said as she sipped at
her drink.

Harry bit her lip as she sat across from Narcissa and Lucius in the Three Broomsticks, Draco
to her right with his hand kept atop of hers on the table. The Malfoy’s had made the visit
especially to check on Harry’s progress in the Tournament, and to ask about the upcoming
Yule Ball. Draco’s dress-robes were already on order, but Harry still stared at fashion
magazines desperately seeking inspiration for what to wear.

“I know. Blaise keeps trying to tell me I should wear a ballgown.”

“No, no, it’ll be too heavy. You’ll need something light for later on.”

“That’s what I said.”

Draco smiled, “Don’t worry, Potter, I’ll take you shopping.”

“Actually, I said I’d take Hermione shopping. She needs to make an impression too.”

“Granger has a date?” Draco smirked. “It’s not Weasley, is it?”

“Is it so hard for you to believe that Hermione is going with someone who isn’t a Weasley?”
she pouted.

“Yes.”

She shoved him lightly and chuckled. Lucius watched them both in amusement. “I’m glad to
see how well you did in the First Task, Harry,” he said suddenly.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry blushed nervously.

“Have you given much thought about the Second Task?”

“Um, I-”

Draco rolled his eyes. “She hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“Draco!” she whined. “I’ve been busy. Snape keeps giving me extra homework assignments
because he’s convinced I’ll ‘fall behind’ with the Tournament on.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Is he now?”

“Yeah, he’s being a right prick lately.”

The elder Malfoy sighed wearily, “He never was one for letting go of grudges. I’ll have a
word with him. We can’t have you being unnecessarily stressed during this time.”

Harry smiled then turned to Draco. “See? Why can’t you tell Snape to back off? Huh?”

“Merlin’s beard! Will you get off my back, woman!” he whined.

Narcissa and Lucius shared a knowing look as Narcissa’s hand rested on his thigh, the pair of
them half-listening to the bickering of the younger couple.

----

“C’mon, convince Hermione to go with me,” Ron whined as they sat together in the Library.

“No can do, Ronald,” she sighed. “I told you, she has a date.”

“No, she doesn’t. She just said that to turn down Neville,” he huffed.

Harry shot him a pointed look. “Ron, has it ever occurred to you that me and Hermione are
actually attractive women and you shouldn’t assume either one of us wouldn’t have a date?”

“But you do have a date.”

Harry rolled her eyes and smiled fondly, “Ah, Ron. I love you, but you are incredibly naïve
about the ways of women.”

She placed a kiss to his forehead and walked away, a smug smile on her face. She couldn’t
wait to see his face when he saw Hermione walking into the Great Hall on the arm of Viktor
Krum.

----

The box was on Harry’s bed when she returned from her classes for the day. Kicking off her
shoes, she plucked the note from atop the box and smiled. ‘Wishing I was there to see you in
this, love Padfoot’. When she opened the box, she gasped in delight at the sight of the dress
that lay inside, surrounded by tissue paper. The gown was an emerald-green, sleeveless A-
line gown which fell down just shy of her ankles. The other Slytherin girls cooed at the sight
of it. According to Daphne, the label was that of a notable wizard designer, and that it had
probably cost a small fortune. She admired it with a strange feeling of being loved as she
noted how much Sirius was willing to spoil her, even knowing he’d never see her in it. Just
like with the Firebolt, he wanted the best for her. She could handle being spoilt; Draco was
equally as talented in spoiling her but she liked that there was something totally selfless in
Sirius’ attempts.

-----

On the night of the Yule Ball, Harry made her way down to the common room where Draco
was waiting for her. He stared in awe as she smiled nervously back at him, allowing him to
take in the whole outfit from the gown to the matching elbow-length gloves or the curls in
her black hair.

“You look…beautiful,” he murmured.

“Thank you.” Her eyes were averted to the black box he was holding in his hand. “What’s
that?”

Draco grinned as he opened the box, revealing a stunning silver necklace with a large
emerald pendant surrounded by smaller diamonds. “It’s been in the family for years. Mother
and Father thought it would compliment your outfit.”

“I didn’t tell you what I was wearing.”

“No, Blaise did. I wanted to make sure it didn’t clash with what you wore,” he admitted with
a blush.

Harry kissed him softly, before gesturing to the necklace. “Come on then, Romeo. We’ve got
a ball to get to.”

-----

Everyone stared at Harry as the diamonds around her neck glistened in the candlelight
outside the Great Hall. Ron stood miserably next to Padma Patil, who looked equally
displeased to be his date for the evening. Harry had to beg Parvati to convince her sister to go
with Ron in the end, after getting sick of hearing Ron whining about going alone. His dress-
robes were a monstrous frilly sight that Mrs Weasley had sent him, and Harry couldn’t help
but wish he had taken up her offer to buy him new ones. Draco caught sight of Ron and
began sniggering into his hand.

Harry elbowed him slightly and hissed, “Not tonight, baby.”

Draco chuckled, “I’m sorry but what the hell is he wearing?”

“We can’t all be heiresses, Malfoy.”

“I’m not an heiress,” he snorted.

“No,” she smiled smugly. “But I am.”

Draco kissed her cheek, a smirk plastered across his lips. “That’s my girl. Where’s Grainger
anyway? You never did tell me who her date was.”

Harry glanced back at the staircase where Hermione had begun to ascend down, a nervous
smile on her face as Viktor Krum appeared at the foot of the stairs for her. She looked
beautiful in the periwinkle gown she and Harry had picked out, her usual bushy hair was
sleek and tied into a knot at the back of her head, with curls falling down to one shoulder.
Draco stared at Hermione in awe, unable to muster anything to say, as did most of the other
students when they realised just who was Krum’s date for the evening.

Krum led them over to Harry and Draco, his eyes never leaving Hermione. Hermione blushed
profusely. “What do you think?”

“You look beautiful,” Harry smiled.

“You…” Draco’s voice faltered before a small smile crept onto his lips. “You look lovely,
Granger.”

Hermione and Harry shared a look and starting giggling. “I never thought I’d hear the day
you compliment Hermione, Draco.”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, let’s not make a habit of it.”

“Champions!” McGonagall called, dressed in green tartan robes. “Ah, Miss Potter. Mr Krum.
If you would both follow me, please. The Champions must enter separately.”

As everyone began to filter into the Great Hall, Hermione whispered to Harry: “What is Ron
wearing?”

Harry sneaked a glance over at a furious-looking Ron who marched straight into the Great
Hall with Padma following after him. “Jealousy and a touch of barely concealed anger, I
think,” Harry smirked.
The Champions entered the Great Hall to a thunderous applause from the staff and other
students. Harry held Draco’s arm tightly as they walked onto the dancefloor to begin the
festivities. He pulled her into position, holding onto her waist and smiled warmly at her as
she looked around the Great Hall nervously.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Professor Flitwick led the orchestra into the waltz and suddenly Harry was being twirled
around the dancefloor in perfect unison with the other Champions. She grinned back at Draco
as the other students began to join them, even some of the professors joined in.

“Why are you so perfect?” she murmured.

“Just born this way, I suppose,” he smirked.

----

Harry expected a lot of things from the Yule Ball, what she didn’t expect though was for the
Weird Sisters to appear on stage after dinner. Dumbledore sent her a wink as the lead singer
stood in front of the mic, addressing the students.

“The Weird Sisters?! Come on, lets dance,” she squealed as she tugged Draco away from the
table.

Hermione and Viktor followed after them, along with some of the other students who began
dancing along to the upbeat songs of the band. Harry didn’t care as she danced madly with
Draco and Hermione, uncaring if anyone was watching. ‘Fuck it’, she thought. ‘I’m Harry
Potter.’

Then suddenly the song ended and the lead singer took to the mic. “This next song, was a
special request we had, dedicated to Harry Potter.”

Harry stilled, staring in disbelief at the band. She glanced at Draco who shook his head.
“Who-?”

“So, this one’s for you. To ‘Bambi’, from Padfoot.”

Harry’s heart melted as the Weird Sisters began to play ‘Sweet Child of Mine’, tears stung
her eyes as she let Draco twirl her around. “Sirius?” he whispered into her ear. She nodded
into his shoulder. “It’s not too bad…for a Muggle song.”

She swatted him playfully and swayed along to the music, beaming at the way the other
muggleborns and halfbloods were too. As the song came to an end, Draco pulled her off of
the dancefloor and out of the Great Hall to one of the abandoned corridors that led out to the
courtyard currently filled with carriages and snow.

“What are we doing?” she giggled.

“I just wanted to get some privacy.”

“For what?”

“This.” He then pushed her against the wall and kissed her passionately. She moaned against
his lips as his hands were placed on either side of her, and her hands reached up to tangle her
fingers in his blonde hair. He then pulled away, panting a hair’s breathe away from her, when
he whispered: “Harriet Jane Potter.”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Harry’s heart swelled and kissed him again. She pressed a second chaste kiss to her lips
before she murmured: “I love you too, Draco.”

Draco smirked before they resumed kissing again, ignoring the other couples running past the
courtyard to sneak into the carriages to have their own kissing sessions. Harry felt like she
was on cloud nine. Draco Malfoy loved her, and she in turn loved him back. She couldn’t
wait to tell Sirius. He’d probably find it all equally adorable. Not the fact they were making
out and Draco was getting a little handsy as he grabbed at her waist and breasts, but the
whole ‘I-love-you’ reveal.

“…I don’t see what the fuss is about, Igor.”

They both stilled at the sound of Snape’s voice. “Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t
happenening,” Karkaroff hissed, with a hint of anxiousness in his voice.

“Then flee,” Snape replied curtly. “Flee, I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining
at Hogwarts.”

Snape had his wand out as he threw open carriages, startling the teenagers inside. “Ten points
from Hufflepuff!”

Undeterred, Karkaroff hurried after Snape. “Severus, you cannot be serious. Hogwarts isn’t
safe for the likes of us.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Snape rounded the corner and paused at the sight of Harry in Draco’s arms. “What are you
two up to?”

“Nothing. I was making sure Harry cooled down,” Draco replied coolly. “It’s got ever so hot
in the Hall.”

Snape looked unconvinced, his eyes narrowing as he focussed on Harry’s slightly smudged
lipstick. “Very well, but don’t dawdle.”

With that, the pair of them hurried away with their robes billowing behind them. Harry turned
to Draco in bewilderment. “We didn’t get a detention.”

“I knew I liked you for more than your looks,” he muttered dryly.
“Wow. No-Snape didn’t give me a detention. That’s huge. That never happens.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I told you. Perks of being his godson.”

“I smell favourtism.”

Draco chuckled, before leading them back inside. As they entered the Hall, they found Ron
and Hermione glaring at each other, they’re faces flushed with anger.

“Well, you know what the answer is then, don’t you?” Hermione spat. “Next time there’s a
ball, pluck up the courage to ask me first before someone else does. And not as a last resort.”

Ron spluttered wordlessly for a moment, as if trying to comprehend what she was saying.
Even though Harry knew he knew, Hermione was right. Hermione was always right. “Well
that-that’s just-completely missed the point-”

Hermione groaned in frustration before catching sight of Harry. “Oh, Harry, where-where
have you been?”

Harry said nothing, but glared back at Ron before she pulled Hermione into a tight hug.
Draco stared up at Ron and muttered, “Go to bed, Weasley. You’ve done enough damage for
one night.”

Harry internally was grateful for Draco’s words as she guided Hermione to sit on the stairs,
allowing the other girl to start to sob into her shoulder. Draco placed one hand on Hermione’s
shoulder for a second before he left the girls alone. Harry blew him a kiss from atop of
Hermione’s head, listening to her friend sob and wondering why Ron was so dense when it
came to women.
 The Second Task
Chapter Notes

It's finally here, the Second Task! Hope you like it.

Winter was always beautiful at Hogwarts, the land covered in a soft layer of snow and the sky
was a myriad of grey shades. As Harry walked along bridge, she was still so happy after
Draco’s confession at the Yule Ball. Draco Malfoy loved Harry Potter. Everything in the
world seemed so perfect, except for the fact that Hermione was furious with Ron for spoiling
her evening, and she still hadn’t figured out the egg yet.

“Potter!”

Harry paused, confused to be hearing Cedric shouting her name. “Yeah?”

Cedric panted as he ran to catch up with her. “Hey. Um, so, thanks for the whole dragon
thing. Have you-have you figured out the egg yet?”

“Amazingly, no,” she muttered dryly.

“Right, well. Have you ever gone to the prefect’s bathroom on the fourth floor?” he asked
with a knowing look in his eyes. “Password’s pine-fresh. Ok, just-just mull things over in the
water and it’ll come to you.”

He then walked away, back to his friends, leaving Harry dazed and confused. ‘Did he really
just tell me to take a bath?’ she thought.

Yet, that night she found herself slipping into the prefect’s bathroom with her invisibility
cloak and the egg in tow. She shook her head lightly, wondering why she was even believing
Cedric when they were supposed to be in competition. Though she supposed, she had told
him about the dragons so he was probably just returning the favour.

She slipped into the bath and sighed. The prefect’s bathroom was heaven. Softly lit by a
chandelier, the white marble of the bathroom glistened as the swimming-pool sized tub
steadily filled with water. A hundred golden taps stood at the far end of the bath, a glorious
fountain with a different coloured jewel set onto each handle. Fluffy white towels were laid
out, and a stain-glassed window of a mermaid on a rock looked down on her as she emersed
herself in the tub. She pulled the egg to her from where she had perched it on the edge of the
tub, and winced as she dared to open it again.

“I’d try opening it underwater, if I were you,” a voice called out to her.

Harry stilled at the sight of Moaning Myrtle floating about the bathroom. “Myrtle?”
Myrtle sighed wearily, “I haven’t seen you in forever, Harry. You’re not avoiding me, are
you?”

“N-no, wait! Did you say underwater?”

Myrtle nodded. “That’s what that boy did. Cedric,” the ghost smirked.

Harry wasn’t interested in the ghost’s teasing, and so with a final sigh, she held her breath
and sunk beneath the water.

----

She returned to the Slytherin common room with damp hair and a muddled mind as she tried
to figure out how on earth she was going to hold her breath for so long. She nearly missed
Draco sat on the sofas, waiting for her underneath a blanket.

“Where have you been?” he grumbled.

“Prefect’s bathroom. Cedric told me to use it, you have to listen to the egg underwater to
understand it.”

Draco nodded. “Why would he tell you that?”

“Quid pro quo,” she sighed. “I told him about the dragons, he helps me with the egg. Nothing
sinister afoot here.”

“Sometimes I think you’re too kind-hearted for your own good,” he replied with a shake of
his head.

“Probably, but you love me regardless.”

Draco met her gaze and smiled easily, “That I do. What’s it say then?”

“Apparently I’m going swimming,” she muttered dryly and tossed the egg to Draco. “Have to
recover something in the Black Lake fighting off mermaids, the squid and Merlin knows
what else enroute.”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Well, I think if they made it too easy, they might lose their target audience.”

Draco chuckled, “You should inform the Weasley twins. Apparently, they’re earning quite a
profit betting on your tasks.”

“Some days I think they would have been better off in Slytherin,” she sighed as he led her
back to the dormitories.

----
Draco pressed persistent kisses down Harry’s neck, one hand on her breast whilst the other
leaned against the bookcase for support. Harry moaned softly as she parted her legs on the
small little desk space at the bottom of the shelves that she had previously been using to
study ways to breathe underwater.

“We’re supposed to be studying,” she gasped as he bit down on her pulse point.

“We are. I’m helping you practice your breathing,” he purred.

Harry giggled and leaned in for another kiss. They were interrupted by a gruff cough, and
were startled to find Moody standing at the end of bookshelf. “Professor Moody!”

“Mr Malfoy, Professor Snape wants you in his office.”

“Now?”

“Now. Unless you want me to drag you there,” he grunted.

Draco sighed and reluctantly stepped away from Harry, fixing his hair and adjusting his
trousers to cover the slight bulge that had started to develop there. Harry hoped down from
the table, blushing profusely as she did so.

“Was that strictly necessary?” she huffed.

“Be grateful I found ye, and not Pince,” he grumbled. He waited until Draco had left before
turning to Harry again. “So, you figured it out yet?”

“Is this where you miraculously pinpoint me in the right direction, Professor?”

He shot her a shrewd look, opening his mouth to speak when Blaise rounded the corner with
a book in hand. “Got it!” he cried triumphantly. “Gillyweed. Shove some of that down you,
and you’ll be fine.”

Harry frowned, “And just where do you suppose I find some of that the night before the
Task?”

Blaise rolled his eyes and huffed, “Why can you never just say thanks?”

“Because you’ve given me half a solution.”

Blaise went to open his mouth then frowned, looking around the empty space. “What
happened to Draco?”

“Snape wanted him. So, where am I going to get Gillyweed from at half eight on a Friday?”

“I don’t know. Honeyduke’s?”

Harry pinched her brow in frustration, wondering how Slytherins could be so cunning and yet
so useless at finding resources.
----

Draco hadn’t returned to the common room by the time Harry went to bed, and he wasn’t
there when Blaise and the other Slytherins forced her out of bed and into the green swimsuit
he’d bought her, bearing the Slytherin coat of arms.

“I’m not doing it! You can’t make me!” she cried as Blaise led her out of the castle.

“Yes, you are!”

“I can’t. I’ll drown. There’s no way I can hold my breathe that long.”

In an instant, Blaise swept her off her feet and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Now, now, no
need to be melodramatic.”

Millicent and Daphne appeared in Harry’s line of sight, running up to catch up to her. “We
found it!”

Harry pushed her head up to look at them, her glasses now askew. “Found what?”

Daphne held up a strange green clump in her hand triumphantly. “Gillyweed.”

“Where did you get that?”

“Greenhouse Three.”

Harry took the offered weed with a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

“So, think you can do it now?” Daphne asked with a sly grin.

Harry leaned against Blaise’s shoulder and said nothing.

----

In the middle of the Black Lake, three podiums had been erected for the spectators to stand
upon, the middle of which was for the Champions and their supporters. Harry was surprised
to see both Narcissa and Lucius standing there, wrapped up tightly against the bitter February
chill coming off the Lake. They both looked thoroughly unamused at something, Narcissa
shooting daggers at Snape who stood beside them. ‘What’s going on there?’ she thought, just
as she fell into the Malfoy’s eyeline.

“Harry, dear, how are you feeling?” Narcissa murmured as she brought her into a tight
embrace.

“Oh, you know, just a sense of impending doom. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Lucius placed a reassuring hand to her shoulder. “Don’t you worry, you’ll do just fine.”

“Thanks. Where’s Draco?”

The Malfoys exchanged a look. “He’s just doing a little something for Snape. He’ll be along
shortly.”

Harry wasn’t convinced that was the whole story, but allowed Lucius to lead her towards to
where the other Champions were gathered at the edge of the podium. Professor Moody stood
closest to Harry as she and the other Champions stood in a line at the edge, overlooking the
water. He gestured to the Gillyweed still held tightly in Harry’s hand and Harry quickly
shoved it into her mouth, blanching at the taste of it.

Dumbledore raised his wand to his throat and as he spoke, his voice resonated across the
lake. “Our champions have gathered for the Second Task. They will each have one hour to
enter the Black Lake and return with what was taken from them.”

The whistle blew and the other three Champions dived into the Lake whilst Harry gagged on
the Gillyweed, only to be shoved into the water by Moody. Lucius growled, stepping
forward, only to be held back by Narcissa when Moody glanced back at him.

Harry, on the other hand, had discovered she now had gills and webbed fingers, which was
the closest she was ever going to feel like a mermaid. By mermaid, she of course meant the
pretty ones from Disney rather than whatever she was about to encounter in the murkiness of
the lake. The water wasn’t so cold as she swam further down, passing reeds and small fish
until she eventually found the mermaids of the Black Lake. These weren’t the ones from fairy
tales. They were greyish creatures with broken teeth and spears in their hands, their hair
billowing behind them in the water. Harry thought back on the riddle of the egg and
wondered what it was that the merpeople had taken.

She froze at the sight of four figures tied to a large boulder at the bottom of the floor, all of
whom she recognised. ‘We've taken what you'll sorely miss’. Seeing Draco suspended in
water, his robes a blur of black around his body and his face a strange pallor stirred
something within Harry. She drifted her gaze along the other three figures, dinging Cho
Chang, a small blonde-haired girl, and Hermione all in a similar state as Draco. She wasn't
entirely sure how Hermione would feel being the person Viktor Krum would miss the most,
but she assumed that Karkaroff would have been out of the question. ‘Where is everyone?’
she thought as Cedric suddenly appeared, a bubble floating around his mouth. He pointed to
his watch and then to the surface before cutting Cho free, pulling her upwards to the surface
with him.

Harry looked around for Fleur and Krum, wondering where the other two had got to. She
didn’t want to think about what would happen to either Hermione or the little girl if their
Champions failed to reach them in time. According to the riddle, they would be lost. Harry
doubted that Dumbledore would allow something like that to happen to his students, but this
was Hogwarts after all. She didn’t think he’d allow them to compete in a near-death trial in
the first place.

She was startled from her thoughts as she saw a badly Transfigured Krum appear with a
shark’s head, gnawing Hermione from her bonds and swimming away without a second
thought. Harry looked back at the little girl and frowned, ‘Sod it’.

----
Harry emerged from the water, spluttering and gasping for air, alongside Draco and the little
girl. Draco turned to her and frowned, “What did you save her for?”

“I’m the Girl Who Lived, darling. Saving’s kinda what I do,” she panted before swimming
for the ladder.

Fleur pulled her sister from the water, muttering to her excitedly in French. There were marks
along her skins from tentacles, and it sounded as if she was apologising to her sister as she
wrapped the younger girl in a thick towel. As Harry swam closer to the ladder, she noted the
several heads of merepeople appearing at the surface with strange smiles on their faces and
for a moment she considered that they were actually proud of her. Harry and Draco were both
helped up the ladder by Blaise who threw towels at both of them once they were collapsed on
the floor of the podium, catching their breaths. Draco shuffled along till he was able to press
his forehead against hers.

“You’re lucky I love your heroics, darling,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” she chuckled.

She glanced over to where the judges were, to find Dumbledore at the water’s edge in deep
conversation with what looked like the chieftan of the merepeople. ‘So apparently
Dumbledore speaks mere’, she thought with a wry grin. She was bewildered though by the
sight of Lucius rushing over to kneel next to them, wrapping them in more layers alongside
Narcissa, the pair of them fretting over their cold, wet bodies.

“That was either very brave or very stupid, young lady,” Lucius muttered as he adjusted her
glasses for her.

Harry sighed, “Oh, Lucius, you know you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Lucius said nothing but placed a kiss to her wet forehead before helping her to her feet,
whilst Narcissa fretted over Draco, examining his face closely for any damage with worried
eyes. The Malfoys held onto the pair tightly as Hermione and Ron made their way through
the crowd to Harry’s side.

“Harry! You did it,” Hermione cried.

“I came in last,” Harry grumbled. “Not sure how amazing that is.”

“Nah, mate, Fleur never made it past the grindlylows,” Ron smirked. “Bloody stupid though,
what were you thinking grabbing the kid?”

“Oh, Ronald!” Hermione groaned.

Harry looked at them in disbelief just as Fleur appeared at her side as well, kissing her
cheeks. “Oh! You saved her. My little sister. You saved her even though she wasn’t yours to
save,” she cooed. “Thank you.”

There were tears in the French girl’s eyes, and all thoughts of bitterness on Harry’s part
melted away. “No problem,” she smiled softly.
Fleur then turned to Draco. “And you! You helped!” She then proceeded to place kisses on
his cheeks as well, causing a blush to rise against the paleness of his cheeks.

Draco was stunned for a moment, before catching sight of the glare Harry was sending his
way. “What? It’s a French custom,” he sniffed.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not, the colour’s finally returning to my cheeks.”

Harry rolled her eyes, “As long as the blood’s not returning to your pants.”

Lucius coughed suddenly, shooting her a pointed look, before turning her attention to the
cluster of judges as Dumbledore caught the audience’s attention once more. Harry knew she
hadn’t won, not by a long shot. She had been last, even if she had brought two hostages back.
Apparently, her lack of ambition paid off in the form of moral fibre though as Dumbledore
announced the judges’ decision based off the merepeople’s testimony.

“Seems your heroics paid off in the end,” Draco smirked. “Strong moral fibre, eh?”

Harry snickered, “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been admiring about me this whole time.”

“One of the things,” he replied before kissing her softly.

The crowd cheered whilst the Malfoys shared a knowing look, Ron pulled a face, and
Hermione ignored Krum’s attempts to gain her attention.
 These Malfoy Women
Chapter Notes

I feel like we needed some Narcissa focus in this chapter. I always think of her as this
woman who cares for her family above all else, and yet has actually lost a lot of them to
Voldemort and his cause.

Also a lovely little moment of BAMF Harry for you all too.

As they disembarked the boats, Harry noticed Barty Crouch hovering along the shoreline. He
looked ill, dark rings hanging beneath his eyes and an almost jaundiced pallor to his skin. She
had barely seen him since the First Task, with rumours running around that he was ill.

“Ah, Miss Potter. Might I have a word?”

Harry glanced back at the Malfoys, only to find Narcissa’s jaw clenched and her eyes aflame
with unbridled fury. Yet neither Malfoy said anything as she allowed Barty Crouch to tell her
how well she was doing.

“You’ve made great strides you know. Your-your parents would be very proud,” he stuttered
as they walked away from the jetty.

“Um, thanks?” Harry wasn’t entirely sure what Barty wanted with her. He seemed to be
fidgeting as they spoke, as if he was struggling to find the words.

“Tragic, of course. To lose one’s family… never whole again, are we? Still life goes on…”

Moody’s gruff voice cut through the calmness of the lake, gaining both of their attention
instantly. “Bartimaeus! You best not be trying to sign Potter up to one of the Ministry’s
summer internships. Last kid to end up in the Department of Mysteries, never came out!”

Moody’s tongue then darted out like a snake and Crouch paled. His eyes widened in disbelief
and he took a step forward before walking away, a look of horror on his face.

“And they say I’m mad,” Moody called after him. He took a quick swig from his hip flask
before heading back up to the castle with the others.

Draco was at Harry’s side within seconds. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.”

“Draco,” Narcissa said as she and Lucius came closer. “Why don’t you and your father run
along? No doubt Harry is exhausted and I wouldn’t want you to get a chill.”
Lucius and Draco exchanged a look before obeying. Once Lucius and Draco were out of
earshot, Narcissa glanced down at Harry. “No doubt you have questions.”

“You don’t like Mr Crouch, huh?”

“Oh, it’s more than that. Tell me, how much do you know about what happened during the
war?”

“Not much. I know Crouch was in charge of seeking out all the Death Eaters. I know he
didn’t exactly use ethical methods.”

Narcissa’s lips thinned, “I know better than most what a man like Crouch is capable of. You
see, Lucius is not the only person I’ve loved who was involved with the Dark Lord back
then.”

“Oh?”

“My family has always had these beliefs about blood purity. So much so that anyone who
dares question it, or marries someone Muggleborn is immediately disowned. I spent my
entire life trying to be a good daughter and upholding their beliefs. Then I married Lucius
who was the pureblood my parents had always wanted for me.” She paused. “Reckless,
ambitious Lucius who picked the side he thought would win until that night in Godric’s
Hollow.”

“And how do you feel about these things now?”

Narcissa glanced at her, “Indifferent. No politics mattered after Draco was born, after that all
I was concerned about was the safety of my family. The fact that Lucius eluded Azkaban
after the war, was more or less my doing. That war had taken too much from me already, for
it to take my husband as well,” she replied coolly.

“Such as?”

“My sisters for one.” She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “My elder sister
Andromeda married a Muggleborn and I haven’t seen her since. My other sister though… did
unspeakable things to gain favour. Tortured an Auror and his wife to the point where they lost
their minds. The worst thing was, she wasn’t even phased by it. Bella had always been…
different in that sense. I suppose I shouldn’t have been so surprised when she was arrested.”

“She was sent to Azkaban?”

Narcissa nodded solemnly. “As was Sirius.” She paused, staring up at the castle for a
moment. “I doubt he’s told you this, but it was Crouch who sent Sirius away. Without so
much as a trial,” she added bitterly.

“He what?”

Fury boiled beneath Harry’s skin as she thought about how unfairly Sirius had been treated
by the Ministry. He wasn’t even allowed to defend himself. No wonder Azkaban had affected
him so much.
“Why are you telling me this?” Harry asked warily.

Narcissa paused and smiled fondly back at her. “Because, I want you to understand that I
know better than anyone what it is to lose the ones you love to war and politics. It is
something I’d never wish on my worst enemy.”

Harry brought the towel tighter around her. “You really think he’s coming back, don’t you?”

Narcissa brought her into a tight embrace and kissed her forehead. “For your sake, I hope
not.”

They walked back to the castle in silence, only to find Lucius standing in the courtyard with
Karkaroff and Snape, talking to each other in angry whispers. Karkaroff was gesturing
angrily to his arm as he spoke, his eyes wide with fear. Draco stood under the archway,
watching them warily as he tugged his blanket closer around himself.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Harry heard Narcissa mutter under her breath. She watched in awe as
the older witch tossed her blonde hair back and with all the poise and grace of aristocracy,
walked over to the men. “Gentlemen, how nice to see you both again,” she said coolly.

“Narcissa,” Karkaroff purred. “You look as radiant as ever.”

“You flatter me, Igor,” she replied whilst taking a tight grip of Lucius’ arm. “Now, you really
must excuse us, we need to ensure that the children get into the warmth,” she said with a
polite smile.

Once they were out of earshot from Snape and Karkaroff, Narcissa turned to Draco and
Harry. “You two run along to your dorms. I want you both showered and dressed before we
get back.”
Hesitantly, the pair obeyed and then Narcissa turned to her husband. “What was that about?”

“Karkaroff’s scared,” Lucius sniffed.

“He should be. You all should be. Need I remind you of what happened the last time?” she
hissed, grabbing onto his forearm where the Dark Mark lay beneath.

“This isn’t like last time…”

“No, because this time it’s not just our lives on the line.” She paused, swallowing thickly
before continuing: “Our son loves her. Do you understand that? He loves her. So you better
hope to every deity that these disappearances are nothing, or we are going to be stuck in the
middle of an all out war.”

Lucius closed his eyes and sighed, “I know, Cissy. Believe me, I know.”

Tears pricked her eyes as she cupped his face, “We’ll get through this, together as a family.”

Lucius nodded and brought his wife closer to him, kissing her forehead. “I didn’t know
Crouch would be here today.”
Narcissa stilled. “I know.”

“I’m sorry he upset you.”

“He didn’t. He just reminds me of who I’ve lost,” she murmured against his chest. “And what
I stand to lose this time.”

Lucius knew better than to promise that wouldn't happen. He remembered the shattered look
on his wife's face when he told her that Bellatrix and Sirius had been arrested, or when she
found out that Regulus had died. He knew better than to promise, but he wished he could.

----

Harry and Draco huddled beside the fireplace, draped in a blanket as Blaise handed them
both hot chocolate. “So, as you can see Draco we managed to get her there on time and fully
equipped to save your blonde arse,” he mused.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve only told me ten times already,” Draco muttered. “What do you want, a
reward?”

“I wouldn’t mind some Charlotte Tilbury eye-cream if you’re thinking of providing one,”
Blaise smirked as he flopped down onto the sofa above them.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to Harry. “How you feeling now?”

“Not too bad. Think I’ve got the lake-water smell out my nose for now, so that’s something.”

A smile crept over Draco’s lips. “Good.”

“You two are just adorable,” Blaise sighed.

“Shut up!”

-----

Harry decided that if Rita Skeeter were to die by her hands it would be by ramming that quill
of hers through her throat. She tugged the Daily Prophet out of Blaise’s hands in his attempts
to shield her from the latest article about the Tournament, which as usual wasn’t so much
about the Tournament as Harry. Beside a large photograph of Draco and Harry kissing after
her victory had been announced, was another article that made jabs at Harry’s fragile mental
state and her reliance on Draco. She scanned the piece with a scowl, especially when she read
the paragraph Skeeter had dedicated to how insecure Harry must be in her relationship. This
included a mention of Fleur kissing Draco after the Task and a lovely little quote from Pansy
Parkinson. According to Pansy, Harry was desperate for attention and manipulated Draco into
being with her because of her fame. Not only that, but she has severe mental health problems
and was trying to replace her father with Draco and his resources.

“Now, Harry, keep calm,” Blaise said warily as he watched her set the paper down.

“I’m going to kill her,” she replied calmly.

“Oh good, for a moment I thought you were going to do something unreasonable.”

It was then by some twist of fate the Pansy Parkinson entered the Great Hall. Harry’s eyes
settled on her, green and furious, as she sat up from the bench and began to stalk over to her.
Blaise attempted to grab her arm, before whistling for the others’ attention.

“You pathetic, jealous bitch,” Harry hissed as soon as Pansy noticed her. “An attention-
seeking brat with daddy issues, am I?”

“Did I say anything that wasn’t true, Potter?” Pansy smirked.

Pansy didn’t see the punch coming any more than the rest of the students did. She crumpled
to the floor in seconds, holding her bloody nose and screeching at the sight of the blood
gushing from her.

“Two things you need to get your head around, Parkinson. One: Draco Malfoy loves me, not
you. I’m his girlfriend and I don’t care if you can’t handle that. It aint’ gonna change anytime
soon. And two: talk about my parents like that again, and I’ll rearrange that pug face of
yours,” she snarled.

As Harry turned away, to the stunned silence of the Great Hall, Pansy stumbled to her feet
and reached for her wand. Before a curse could leave her blood-stained lips though, she was
turned into a black ferret by Moody who had been watching the scene unfold from the
doorway.

“I’ll teach you to curse somebody when their back is turned!”

The Great Hall erupted into laughter as Moody then proceeded to float Pansy around as she
flailed about in protest. “Professor Moody, what are you doing?” McGonagall cried as she
entered the Great Hall.

“Teaching.”

Despite McGonagall quickly reversing the transfiguration and scolding Moody for doing so,
Harry thought it was a pretty good morning. What was even better though is that Moody
didn’t tell McGonagall that it was Harry who busted Pansy’s nose and not the stone floor.

----

It took Draco till first lesson to find out what had happened between Harry and Pansy, and it
took him mere seconds to find Harry and push her against the nearest wall. “Why am I being
told you broke Pansy Parkinson’s nose?”

“She needed a new one,” she sniffed.

“Harry,” he said in a warning tone.

Harry looked at her feet and sighed, “She told Rita Skeeter I was an attention-seeker who was
only with you for your money and that I’m extremely traumatised by having no parents.”
“Baby, we can’t go around punching people for things like that,” he groaned as he pinched
his brow. “We sue them for libel and see them in court.”

“Well, tell Blaise to get better at holding me back.”

“Oh no, I’m telling the entire quidditch team to tackle you next time you think violence is the
answer,” he muttered dryly. “Maybe then you’ll actually listen.”

Hesitantly, she reached out to play with his tie. “Are you mad?” she asked softly.

“No,” he sighed. “I should be. Merlin knows I should be lecturing you about all that goodie-
goodie-two-shoes stuff right now, but honestly I’m a little…impressed. Where did you learn
to punch like that?”

Harry shrugged with a wry grin, “Ron said I needed to learn in case you ever broke my
heart.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course, he did. Come on then, lets see what delights Moody has
for us today.”
 The Final Task
Chapter Notes

This chapter is a long one. The Final Task is here and Voldemort is back! I will promise
you guys now, that it is a happy ending for Draco and Harry at the end of all this :)

Finding Barty Crouch’s dead body wasn’t a memory Harry was likely to forget in a hurry.
She’d never seen a dead body before, after all. She’d seen Ginny Weasley lying comatose in
the Chamber of Secrets, and Sirius nearly get his soul removed by a dementor. But never an
actual dead person. She couldn’t count Quirrell either He just sort of disintegrated rather than
dropped dead. Either way, she found herself staring blankly as she was led back to the castle
and into Draco’s arms.

“What happened?” she heard Blaise call out as they entered the common room.

“Crouch is dead. She found his body,” Draco replied.

She distantly heard the mutterings amongst the Slytherins, but she barely registered them as
Draco led her to the sofa where he proceeded to wrap himself around her. Harry didn’t say a
word. All she could think though was ‘why’. Why had somebody killed Barty Crouch? She
knew he wasn’t the most likeable of officials, but that was no reason to kill him. Something
else was afoot here, that much she knew, and it involved all the frightened looks the teachers
were giving each other over Crouch’s body.

----

The Final Task was just a few weeks away but Harry’s thoughts were only of impending
doom. Maybe her dream of Voldemort hadn’t helped, though she had slightly enjoyed the
sight of Wormtail being tortured. She didn’t enjoy the thought of being eaten by Voldermort’s
pet snake though. He was really beginning to turn her off snakes altogether the way he
carried on. Then there was the Final Task which Dumbledore had explained as a simple case
of finding the Triwizard Cup located in the middle of a maze that was full of obstacles.
Knowing Dumbledore, that could include anything from Deadly Snare to Merepeople. Harry
didn’t like her chances either way. Then there was that meeting she’d had with Dumbledore
in his office, the memories she had seen. That Snape was a Death Eater, she already knew,
but she did find it strange that Dumbledore was reluctant to tell her why he believed he had
changed. The truth about Neville’s parents. That was unexpected. That Barty Crouch’s son
had been involved too, that was even more of a twist.

She sat in the Slytherin common room surrounded by her peers who were eagerly making
banners and signs saying ‘Potter’ in green and silver paint. “So, if you were as fucked up in
the head as the Ministry was, what would you put in the maze?” she asked the group.
“Dementors.”

“Bogarts.”

“Your Uncle Vernon,” Draco muttered dryly as he sat down beside her in front of the fire.

Harry sniggered, “Yeah, bet he’d love that.”

“What you worrying for anyway, you’ve done great so far.”

“I don’t know, just got a funny feeling about this one,” she admitted as he snuggled closer to
her. “Maybe I’m still in shock over Crouch.”

Draco’s brow furrowed in concern. “We could speak to Dumbledore, get it postponed for
another week.”

“No,” she sighed. “Karkaroff might burst a vein if I did that.”

“That’s true,” he chuckled. “How was your visit with Dumbledore by the way?”

“Not too bad. Just clarified a few things about Crouch’s past for me.”

“Like?”

She glanced at him. “What’s your parents said to you about Crouch’s son?”

Draco shifted uneasily, looking back into the flames. “He was arrested alongside my aunt.
Karkaroff gave him up in exchange for an early sentence, that’s why he’s been freaking out.”

Harry nodded. “What else have they told you?”

“To keep an eye on you. They’re worried something’s going to happen to you.”

Harry rolled her eyes. “Tell them to join the club. Moody said he hasn’t ruled out a
kidnapping attempt.” She paused. “Snuffles is doing his nut in too. Told me off for wandering
in the woods alone.”

Draco shot her a pointed look. “He has a point.”

“Maybe he does, but I can hardly back out now. Legally binding and all that. So, you better
start practicing some charms with me, or I’m screwed.”

Draco chuckled as he produced a textbook that Moody had given them. “How can I possibly
deny you? Crabbe. Goyle. Get over here.”

----

Harry had spent days practicing all manner of spells on as many Slytherin volunteers as
possible, though she was a little annoyed she wasn’t allowed to practice on Pansy. Blaise
tackled her to the ground each time she attempted to aim at Pansy, whilst Draco rolled his
eyes and questioned her bloodlust. Now, she looked the epitome of a Slytherin Champion.
The shirt she wore was half emerald green, half black, parted precisely down the middle with
the Hogwarts coat of arms above her left breast. Her hair was perfectly styled after Daphne
and Blaise had got their hands on it, and her glasses had been cleaned and fixed one final
time. Even the pants she wore showed off her long legs and what Draco described as her
‘seeker arse’.

She displayed it all proudly as she held Draco’s hand tightly as they made their way down to
the arena, only to pause when they caught sight of Narcissa and Lucius waiting for them. It
was customary, according to Snape, for the Champions’ families to come to watch the Final
Task. Harry had hoped that didn’t mean the Dursley’s were going to turn up. In lieu of a
puce-coloured uncle and a shrill aunt, she found the Malfoys in their expensive robes and
long blonde hair.

“Harry! We just wanted to wish you good luck,” Lucius beamed.

“Thanks, I think I’ll need it,” she chuckled nervously, running a hand through her hair.

“Nonsense,” Narcissa smiled fondly. “You’ve done so well. Regardless whether you win or
not, we’re proud of you.”

Harry stilled. Her heart ached at the thought of someone being proud of her. “T-thanks. That
means a lot.”

Narcissa bent to fuss over her, adjusting her clothing and hair slightly. “A part of me wishes
we could watch you properly, but another part of me thinks I’d just panic the entire time,” she
admitted with a blush.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, I can imagine you’d have to stop Draco from coming in after me.”

Narcissa kissed her forehead and stroked her cheek, “Now, we had better find our seats.
Draco?”

Draco nodded and kissed Harry chastely before leading his mother into the stands. Harry
smiled as she watched them leave, only to pause as she realised Lucius was still standing
beside her, looking perplexed.

“Harry,” Lucius said quietly. “If something goes wrong today. Something bad. Whatever
happens, make sure you stay near Dumbledore. Do you understand?”

“Lucius, I’m about to go into a maze for the next hour-”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, meeting her gaze. “No, I mean, when the Task is over.
When you come back here. If somebody tries to take you out of Dumbledore’s sight, they are
not a friend to you.”

Harry blinked. “You think he’s getting stronger, don’t you?” she murmured.

Lucius’ eyes widened slightly and for a split second, Harry recognised fear in them. They
both knew who she meant. He opened his mouth to speak when McGonagall appeared to take
her to where the other Champions were. Harry looked back at Lucius, noting the sorrowful
look he gave her as she walked away.

----

She landed on the ground with a thud, groaning from the impact of the port key. Her leg was
still injured from the skrewt’s attack, stinging as she moved it against the grass to raise
herself from the ground. ‘Damnit’, she thought. ‘Of course, this is all part of some plot’.
Harry gingerly stood up to find herself standing in the middle of a graveyard, dark clouds
overheard and the distant sound of a crow calling. There was black cauldron in front of them,
and towering above her was a grave with a carving of a grim reaper grinning menacingly
back at her. She froze.

“It’s a port key,” Cedric said as he inspected the cup.

Cedric. She had barely registered he was there. She spotted a figure coming towards them in
the darkness, holding what looked like a baby in its arms. Her scar flared up instantly.
“Cedric, we have to get out of here. Now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This isn’t part of the Tournament,” she hissed. “It’s a trap.”

Then she heard a menacing hiss: “Kill the spare.” A flash of green light shot out and Cedric
Diggory lay dead on the ground.

Before she could even comprehend what had just happened, Harry was forced back against
the statue, whose arms moved to hold her still. She struggled against the stone, but it grated
against her skin as she did so. The figure came closer and her green eyes narrowed at the
sight of Wormtail.

“You!”

Wormtail didn’t speak. If she knew any better, she’d say that it was in his best interests not to
speak. Her scar stung, as if someone was trying to pull the flesh apart with hot tweezers. She
gritted her teeth, trying to bear the pain.

“You fucker! I should have let Sirius tear you apart,” she snarled. “When I get out of here,
I’m gonna let him rip your throat out with his teeth!”

Wormtail seemed to pause for a moment before returning to his task. The cauldron bubbled
suddenly, before Wormtail held up the creature in the blanket. Not a baby. A pale, scrawny
creature.
Perhaps a malformed house elf. But its eyes were blood-red and made Harry’s blood run
cold. Wormtail dropped the creature into the cauldron, and Harry wished that it drowned in
there. That it wasn’t what she thought it was.

“Flesh of the servant. Willingly given,” he said with a wince before cutting his own hand off.
He wrapped his now bloody stump with a rag to stop the bleeding before picking up a bone
from beneath Harry’s feet. “Bone of the father unknowingly given.”

He tossed the bone into the cauldron then turned back to Harry. Before Harry could muster
another threat, Wormtail took a knife and ran it along Harry’s wrist till he drew blood. Harry
let out a strangled yell at the pain, but he paid her no attention as he dripped the blood into
the cauldron.

“The blood of the enemy…forcibly taken.” He glanced back at Harry before finishing his
incantation: “The Dark Lord will rise again.”

“No!” she screamed.

Her protests fell on deaf ears though as she watched the transformation. Her scar and her arm
throbbed, and she found herself sobbing as she watched a fully-formed body transform from
the cauldron, draped in black robes. A bald head that almost resembled a skull it was mostly
devoid of flesh, a nose that resembled more of a snake’s than any normal cartilage and a pair
of red eyes that looked out onto the graveyard. A pale being ran its hands over itself,
marvelling at its new body, and a strange smile crept up on its lips.

“No,” she whispered. “Please, Merlin, no.”

But it was too late. Lord Voldemort had returned.

----

Harry knew before Voldemort began ripping masks of his followers that Lucius was among
them, but even as he fell to his knees before the other man, she wished she had been wrong.
His pale blonde hair was unmistakable though, and tears pricked her eyes again at the sight of
him. Then once Voldemort had finished his berating of his followers, she watched as he
turned to the fallen body of Cedric.

“Such a handsome boy,” he tsked.

“Don’t you fucking touch him!” she snapped.

Voldemort’s head turned, his red eyes lighting up with malice at the sight of her. “Harry!” he
crooned. “So lovely to see you again.”

“Funny, can’t say the same,” she seethed.

His eyes raked over her body. “You grew up.”

“You got bald.”

His mouth quirked into a smirk. “There’s that defiance. Your parents had it too, I recall. I
couldn’t tell you what I inherited from my parents. My father as you can see is dead by my
hand. He abandoned my mother when she told him what she was. He didn’t really like magic.
She died in childbirth, leaving me to be raised in a muggle orphanage.”

“C’mon, Tom, we both know this goes beyond your blatant daddy issues,” she scoffed.
Voldemort chuckled, “Perhaps you are right, dear Harry. We are quite alike you and I in so
many ways.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Ah, yes. And therein lies the beginning of our tale. The Girl Who Lived,” he said as he
bowed before her mockingly. “How a strange turn in events led to your legend, Harry.
Perhaps I should educate my friends on what really happened that night. How a baby girl
destroyed me without even lifting a finger.”

“You see, when Lily Potter sacrificed herself for her only child, it evoked a magic I had not
foreseen. This old magic, I should have remembered it. A mother’s love. And so, I couldn’t
touch her. But now things have changed.” His face hardened and he was in front of her in an
instant, sneering up at her: “I can touch you now.”

His finger landed on her scar and Harry heard herself screaming from the pain it caused her
to have him so near. Her hands grasped at the statue, clawing at it to try and get away from
him but he persisted. He watched her writhe in agony, admiring the beauty in the way her
face contoured and the tears that slid down her pale cheeks. She was so beautiful like this. He
eventually wrenched his hand away from her and Harry felt like she could finally breathe
again, slumping against the statue’s arms as she attempted to recover.

“Astonishing really, what one simple potion can undo,” he muttered bitterly. He waved his
hand and Harry collapsed to the ground, the statue releasing her and resuming its former
position. “Pick up your wand, Potter.”

Harry lifted her head to glower at him. She saw the Death Eaters close ranks, and she knew
what Voldemort wanted from her. “Fuck you!” she croaked.

“Such language!” Voldemort scolded. “Now, you have been taught how to duel, haven’t you?
Surely Dumbledore taught you that much.”

Harry panted heavily as she staggered to her feet, clutching her wand that had fallen to the
ground. She looked around the graveyard and wondered how it had all come to this. Cedric
was dead, Voldemort was back and Lucius Malfoy couldn’t meet her gaze.

“Now, first things first, we bow. Come along, Harry, Dumbledore wouldn’t like it for you to
forget your manners. Now bow!”

He aimed his wand at her and she felt her spine bend to accommodate his demands. She
bowed lowly to him and listened to the Death Eaters jeer at her. She glanced at Lucius, and
found he wasn’t joining in.

“Very good,” Voldemort crooned. “Such a good girl. Now, straighten your back and face me
like your father did. Now we duel!”

Harry thought of her father as Voldemort aimed his wand at her. She wondered how he must
have felt standing there, unarmed, against such a man. Harry may have had her wand, but she
felt equally unprepared for Voldemort’s magic as she was instantly hit with the Cruciartus
curse.

Her body writhed with excruciating pain, crumbling to the ground. She wanted it to end. But
she knew Voldemort would only allow it if she was dead. Those red eyes told her all she
needed to know. He wanted her dead, humiliated and dead. He wanted to prove he was still
the Dark Lord they all feared. She remembered the weak creature that feasted on unicorn
blood and a little girl’s soul to become strong again. He wasn’t strong. He was pathetic. Even
still, Harry wanted to leave this life tying up some lose ends.

The spell ended and Voldemort tilted his head as he assessed her. “Not bad for your first time.
Now, shall we try that again?”

“Wait!” she yelled.

Voldemort paused, his eyes narrowing. “Surrendering so early, sweet girl?”

“Fuck no. I just have one request to make. A dying wish if you will,” she spat.

Voldemort chuckled and waved his hand at her. “Very well. What is it?”

“It’s not for you.” She turned then to the Death Eaters. “Mr Malfoy?”

Lucius froze before composing himself. “Y-yes?”

“If I die, I have two things to ask of you. The first is that you return Cedric’s body to his
parents.”

Blonde eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’d want me to ask the same of Amos if that were Draco lying there,” she
murmured. “Amos might be a pain, but he’s still a parent. He deserves the right to grieve his
son properly.”

Lucius was silent for a moment before nodding. “You have my word. And the second?”

“Tell-” She paused as she felt tears starting to form again. “Tell Draco I love him, ok?”

Lucius face softened for a moment. “Of course.”

“Good. Oh, and Sirius. Please try and stop Sirius from going back to Azkaban. He doesn’t
think straight when something happens to me. He’ll do something stupid and end up there
again. So, yeah, just-just keep him out of prison.” Lucius’ lips twitched upwards as he
nodded, and she knew he would do it anyway. For Narcissa, if nothing else. Harry then stood
to her full height and raised her wand at Voldemort. “Ready for round two, old man?”

----

As Harry fell to the ground a second time, this time on top of Cedric’s body, she was
welcomed by the sound of the band playing, signalling their victory. The crowd cheered and
laughed together, as Harry lay there atop of Cedric’s corpse. And then came the screams and
the silence of the band and the crowd as they realised Cedric wasn’t moving.

“Harry? Harry!”

She heard Dumbledore’s voice and she lifted her head, tears streaming down her face as she
cried: “He’s back! Voldemort’s back.”

Dumbledore’s face fell as realisation hit the headmaster, as his half-moon spectacles
examined her grime and blood-covered face. “Cedric-I tried to stop him. He wanted me to
bring him back! I had to-!” she sobbed. “I couldn’t leave him there.”

She heard Fudge come closer, trying to urge Dumbledore to do something. “Dumbledore, she
needs to go to the Hospital Wing. Look at her.”

Dumbledore shook her head. “No, Harry should stay-”

“Amos is coming, Albus,” Fudge hissed. “We need to clear the stands. People mustn’t see
this.”

She felt hands pry her fingers away from Cedric’s shirt, pulling her off of his body. “C’mon,
girl,” she heard someone mutter as they picked her up by the waist.

“Dumbledore-!” she protested weakly.

As she continued to cry into familiar leather arms, she vaguely recalled Lucius’ warning. But
her whole body hurt and she just wanted everything to stop. Lucius’ warning suddenly didn’t
seem so important.
 The Winner Takes It All
Chapter Notes

Nearly there till Order of the Phoenix now with a post-Tournament chapter with a little
Fudge bashing by Harry ;)

Harry wasn’t entirely certain how Mad Eye Moody had managed to bring her back to his
office on only two good legs between them, and his arm around her waist but he did. He sat
her down in the chair next to his desk as she continued to cry as she explained what had
happened.

“The cup was a portkey. Professor, they-they killed Cedric!” she cried.

Moody shoved a glass of something into her hand. “Here, drink this.”

Whatever it was tasted vile. It burned her throat and made her cough violently as she tried to
recover from it. “He’s back! Fuck, this is all my fault.”

“Where there others?”

“Others, sir?”

“Others in the graveyard. The Death Eaters.”

Harry paused and looked back at Moody. Lucius’ warning rang through her head as she noted
the twitching of his head. “I-I didn’t mention a graveyard, Professor,” she said quietly.

A severe sense of dread washed over her as she watched the older man turn around to face
her. She thought back on Voldemort’s ramblings about his ‘loyal’ followers and the traitors.
‘One of them is at Hogwarts’.

Moody’s behaviour instantly changed as he muttered: “I alone remained faithful… prepared

to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all…you.”

Moody’s mechanical eye settled on Harry, and her mind went back to the strange look
Voldemort had had in his eye as he looked at her. Voldemort wanted her dead sure enough,
but there something unpleasant behind it as well. Realisation dawned on her as she stared up
at him, her heart sinking as she realised what he was admitting to.

“It was you. You put my name in the Goblet of Fire,” she stuttered.

Moody scoffed, “Yes, yes, I put your name in. I did it all. Who frightened off every person I
thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the Tournament? I did. Who
nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did.”

Harry glanced at the door, but knew on her leg she wouldn’t be able to get far without help.
She wondered if she could outrun him somehow, or would his magic be superior to hers and
she’d wind up in a similar position as in the graveyard.

“It hasn’t been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion.”
Harry tuned him out as he rambled, not caring for his complaints about how hard he’d had to
work to help her out. “But I also had to contend with your stupidity.”

Harry shot him a glare and sneered, “You’ll have to forgive me for being such a nuisance. But
you really should have done better reconnaissance if you were planning on manipulating a
fourteen-year-old Slytherin into doing anything.”

Moody tilted his head as if assessing her words before shrugging. “I suppose that was a
failure on my part. The Second Task. No, the Second Task was my greatest worry though.”

Harry paused, staring at the man whose tongue kept darting out of his mouth like a nervous
tick as he scrounged around the office for something, continuing to berate Harry. She thought
back to
Snape’s angry outburst about stealing ingredients from his storage cupboard. Polyjuice
Potion. Moaning Myrtle had seen it in a block drain. It all made sense, and she hated herself
for not putting it together sooner.

“Who are you?” she asked coolly.

Moody paused and merely grinned, “A loyal servant.”

He raised his wand at her, aiming it at her heart, right where the Hogwarts coat of arms was
embroidered. His face contorted again, and Harry flinched. “The Dark Lord failed tonight.
You escaped. Imagine how he will reward me for once and for all silencing the Girl Who
Lived.”

It was then that the door burst open and Moody was sent flying across the room. Dumbledore
stepped through the doorway, his wand raised, and his usually twinkling eyes were full of
rage. This was the wizard that Voldemort feared most. Not the headmaster. Not the sweet
professor who loved Muggle sweets as passwords. This man won wars and had likely done
things that Harry couldn’t even imagine him doing. This was Albus Dumbledore and he
radiated a power Harry had never felt before as he glowered down at Moody’s body.

“Severus!”

Snape appeared in the office, closely followed by McGonagall who wrapped her arms around
Harry’s shoulders immediately as Snape stepped forward with a small vial. Dumbledore
forced Moody up onto a chair, prying his mouth open so that Snape could pour the vial’s
contents down his throat.

“Harry, we should go…” McGonagall murmured.

“No, Minerva, Harry needs to see this,” Dumbledore said sharply. “She needs to know who
has put her through this ordeal and why.”

McGonagall did not question him twice. Dumbledore then turned to the trunk Harry had seen
when she first came to the office. He opened the trunks many locks before revealing a kind of
pit, an underground chamber where the real Mad Eye Moody lay. Thin, with large chunks of
his hair missing as well as his leg and mechanical eye, but it was Moody.

Snape picked up Moody’s hipflask and sniffed it. “Polyjuice Potion.”

“I think we’ve found whose been stealing from your stores, Severus.”

Snape shot Harry a pointed look as if he didn’t quite believe that Harry was innocent. That
was alright though, Harry wasn’t exactly expecting an apology from Snape of all people.
Then the imposter stirred finally and Dumbledore pointed him with a fixed glare. His body
contorted as it returned to its original appearance, and there in Moody’s office sat Bart
Crouch Jr. He was older than he had been in Dumbledore’s memory, but it was him.

She listened in disbelief as Crouch told them everything and she only realised when
Dumbledore finally turned back to face her, that she was crying. “You-you did all that so an
old man could kill a girl? You are pathetic,” she hissed.

Crouch scowled, “My master’s plan worked. He has risen again and I will be rewarded.”

Harry scoffed. “You told me your mission was to bring me to Voldemort so he could kill me.
So why am I still standing here and you’re on your way back to Azkaban?”

“I’ll be welcomed back a hero!” he cried.

“A hero? Don’t you know by now that Voldemort has no time for people who fail him?” she
replied coolly.

Crouch’s face fell just a little, and Dumbledore was at Harry’s side, taking her by the arm and
helping her to her feet. “Come, Harry, we’ll go to my office.”

-----

Harry stared up at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing, wishing that it had all been a horrible
nightmare. Yet she knew it wasn’t. Her leg was mostly mended, wrapped in bandages, as was
her forearm where Wormtail had slashed it open. The only source of comfort she’d really had
was Sirius’ dog form now asleep at the foot of her bed. Dumbledore had insisted to Madame
Pomfrey that the dog who McGonagall had fetched from the pumpkin patch was not to leave
Harry’s side. The fact that Dumbledore had even invited Sirius to Hogwarts had warmed
Harry’s heart when she’d seen him in Dumbledore’s office. Now she watched his body rise
and fall against her feet, comforted by the slight murmur of his heartbeat against her toes. A
part of Harry wished that Sirius didn’t have to go, but soon the likes of Cornelius Fudge
would appear at her side with their questions and Sirius would have to leave. Dumbledore
had ordered that Harry was to be given time and space to heal before anyone was allowed
into the Hospital Wing. Just for a moment, she didn’t want them all there at her bedside. She
wanted to be alone with Sirius and not answer any questions. Distnatly, she heard a clock tick
and she knew it was only a matter of time before someone made their way to her side.

The door burst open suddenly and Draco who looked even paler than usual ran to her.
“Harry,” he cried. “Nobody’s telling me anything. What happened to-”

Harry glanced at him, her eyes almost hollow and her voice devoid of emotion. “Voldemort’s
back.”

Draco froze, his eyes wide with panic and she knew he was thinking of his father. “N-no.” He
crumbled into the chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. “He tried to kill you again,
didn’t he?”

She nodded. “Moody was an imposter. It was Barty Crouch Junior all along. He’s been
manipulating me from the start to make me win so Voldemort could kill me. He came back,
and he summoned his Death Eaters to watch him kill me.”

Draco raised his head to meet her gaze. “My father-”

Harry shot him a look that he knew meant to not say another word. “I haven’t told anyone,
and I’m not going to,” she replied softly.

“W-why?”

Harry looked down at Sirius whose eyes were now open, staring back at her curiously. “He
wasn’t there because he wanted to be.”

Draco covered her hand with his and whispered: “Thank you.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. Lucius took no pleasure in her torment at the graveyard. She
had no illusions that Lucius was on thin ice right now because of how he denied Voldemort in
the past. How he had encouraged his son to date the Girl Who Lived. She almost felt sorry
for him. Her thoughts went then to the other known Death Eaters at Hogwarts.

“What happened to Karkaroff?”

Draco furrowed his brow. “Karkaroff bolted suddenly. Father and Snape ran after him, but
Father didn’t come back. Is that when-?”

Harry nodded. “If he’s not dead yet, he will be. Voldemort doesn’t take traitors too lightly.”

They heard loud voices coming from outside the Hospital Wing and Harry closed her eyes,
allowing them to think she was still asleep as Fudge, McGonagall and Dumbledore burst into
the room.
Draco seemed to sense what she was doing and schooled his features to look like the
concerned visitor, waiting for her to wake up.

“You see here, Dumbledore,” she heard Fudge splutter. “You cannot really believe that You-
Know-Who is back. Preposterous. Just the-the very idea…”
“As Minerva and Snape have doubtless told you,” Dumbledore sighed. “We heard Bart
Crouch Junior confess to escaping Azkaban, plotting to deliver Harry to Voldemort himself in
order for him to be resurrected.”

“Well, but, Albus, you cannot seriously believe the word of a madman and a -well- a very
traumatised young woman-”

The chair beside her scraped back a little as she listened to Draco hiss: “Are you trying to call
her insane, Minister? Because my family and I would take a very dim view on anyone who
did so. As would our accountant.”

Fudge paled, only now noticing Draco’s presence. “Mr-Mr Malfoy, I-I had no idea you
were-”

“As we have discussed many a time, Cornelius,” Dumbledore drawled. “Mr Malfoy here is
very protective of his girlfriend and vice versa. It is only natural that he should be here whilst
you interrogate her.”

“I never said I would interrogate her. I just said we needed to ask her some questions about
what she may or may not have seen.”

“What do you mean by that?” Draco demanded.

Fudge looked over at Draco and Dumbledore with a strange look in his eye. “You haven’t
been very truthful about Harry, have you, Dumbledore? These nightmares, hallucinations -
and the fact she is a Parseltongue!”

A smirk crept onto Harry’s lips. “You don’t believe everything you read in the paper, do you
Minister?”

All eyes turned on Harry as she opened her green eyes to stare at them all. “Really, I’m
embarrassed for you,” she continued. “Considering Skeeter’s sources for all her nonsense are
her own imagination and a jealous classmate. I thought you were above such tabloid
nonsense.”

Fudge had the decency to look embarrassed, flustered and turning his bowler hat around and
around in his hands. “After all you’ve been through, Harry, it would be understandable if you
were…affected by it.”

Harry snorted. “Affected, huh? Well, so far I’ve got dead parents, a fugitive for a godfather,
been nearly killed -what- six times now? I watched Cedric Diggory die, and was tortured
with the Cruciartus Curse less than twenty-four hours ago. And now I have to listen to you
tell me I imagined it all because I’m crazy,” she drawled.

They all stared at her in disbelief, even Sirius growled softly at Fudge. Harry closed her eyes
for a moment and sighed wearily, “You can go and call me crazy, call me a liar all you want.
It won’t stop him. But I’d rather be known as the Girl Who Cried Wolf over the Minister of
Magic who allowed Voldemort to rise to power again.”
Fudge looked petrified at the very thought and muttered a quick: “I think I should take my
leave now.” He dropped a bag of coins onto her bed. “Here are your winnings.”

The Hospital Wing was silent for a moment before Draco turned slowly around to face her
again. “That,” he said cautiously. “Was either very brave or very stupid.”

“How a man like that got voted into power, I’ll never know,” she huffed. She leaned down
and stroked Sirius’ head. “Besides, we have bigger problems than politics, don’t we,
Professor?”

Dumbledore nodded, a small smile on his lips that Harry supposed meant he was secretly
proud of her little outburst. “Indeed. We must work quickly-”

Harry heard little else as she leaned back against the pillow again and fell asleep.
 The Calm Before The Storm
Chapter Notes

And we've reached the end of Goblet of Fire! I'm so ready to write all the angst of Order
of the Phoenix heading your way for Harry and Draco.

With her head held high, Harry entered the Great Hall with Draco holding her hand tightly,
flanked by Hermione and Ron. As soon as she entered, everyone turned to stare at her. She
winced. Madame Pomfrey had done her best, but her leg was still in bandages to finish
healing and no number of tinctures or magic could erase the hollowness in Harry’s eyes. She
couldn’t shake that night from her thoughts. Seeing her parents again, Cedric dying, and
Voldemort’s resurrection. It made her want to stay in bed and not move, to pretend that is was
all a nightmare.

Dumbledore had already spoken to the school at breakfast. He had instructed every student to
not ask Harry questions about what happened or badger her to tell her story. The looks the
others gave her as she passed didn’t help matters. They, like Fudge, likely believed Rita
Skeeter about her mental stability. Frankly though, Harry didn’t care. Draco believed her and
a majority of the Slytherins seemed to look at her with a sense of sadness, like they did too.
She didn’t dare mention that a number of their fathers had been there that night. They likely
knew that too. The Slytherins for the most part, left her alone and that made her like them all
the more.

She sat down at the Slytherin table, noting the way that the Great Hall was draped in black
out of respect for Cedric. Draco kept his hand covering hers as they watched Dumbledore
address the school. She wasn’t surprised when Dumbledore said Voldemort’s name to the
mass of students and professors who all winced at the mention of it. She was perhaps the only
one not affected by it anymore. She thought back on Fudge, and what Ron had told her about
Fudge being jealous of Dumbledore because the headmaster had once been the favourite to
become the next Minister. Dumbledore didn’t do politics though. He didn’t need votes to
succeed, he just automatically had everyone’s respect. Harry could understand that. she could
also understand why that might make Fudge wary of Dumbledore. If Dumbledore wanted to,
he could take over the Ministry of Magic. But Dumbledore would never. At least, she didn’t
think so. He liked his school and his students, nothing more.

“I speak, of course, of Harry Potter.” Harry froze, having not paid that much attention. “Harry
Potter escaped Lord Voldemort. She risked her own life to return Cedric’s body to Hogwarts.
She showed in, every respect, a bravery rarely seen in those who have faced Lord Voldemort
and for that, I honour her today.”

The headmaster then raised his glass to Harry, and Harry watched as every student and
professor followed Dumbledore’s lead. She cast her eye down the Slytherin table and
watched as many of her peers did so too. Tears pricked her eyes as they nodded to her in
understanding. Draco squeezed her hand and for a moment, Harry knew she wasn't as alone
as she thought she was.

----

Her trunk was packed and Hedwig hooted happily from inside her cage as Harry carried her
down to the carriages. It was strange to watch all the students leave the castle at once,
Beauxbatons, Drumstrang and Hogwarts students all meshed together hugging and
exchanging addresses. A smile escaped her as she watched them all, realising that at least
something good had come out of the Tournament.

Fleur was the first to tackle Harry into a hug, kissing her cheeks happily. “I hope to see you
soon, Harry,” she beamed.

Harry smiled, knowing she wasn’t just being polite. “I hope so too. Maybe you can show me
how to do that butterfly thing,” she chuckled. “I think Draco might like it.”

Fleur smirked conspiratorially, “Oui. I think I can do that.”

Ron sighed as he watched the blonde girl return to Madame Maxine’s side along with her
sister, “I think I’m in love.”

“Then Merlin help us,” Harry said with a roll of her eyes. She noted Krum appear and slip
Hermione a piece of parchment, a blush tinging Hermione’s cheeks as he did so. He then
turned his attention to Harry.

He stuck his hand out for her to shake, gripping her hand firmly as he did so. “Cedric was
very kind to me. Even though I was from Drumstrang.” He paused. “Thank you…for
everything. I hope we can meet again.”

“Sure thing,” she grinned. “Next time we’ll see who’s the better seeker.”

Krum chuckled, “That would be nice.”

If Ron asked for an autograph from Krum before he left, neither Harry or Hermione said a
word about it. The three of them watched the other two schools leave Hogwarts on their
flying carriage and ship, wishing that September would come around a lot quicker.

-----

Draco kissed Harry’s cheek before leaving her to sit with Ron and Hermione in their own
compartment, whilst he joined the other Slytherins. Crookshanks stayed curled in a ball like a
fluffy orange cushion beside Hermione whilst Hedwig snoozed, her head nuzzled beneath her
wing. For a moment, everything felt normal.

“You never did tell us how you figured out how Rita was finding things out,” Harry muttered
suddenly.
Hermione bit her lip. “Well, I can guarantee that she won’t be writing anything about you for
a while, Harry.” She then produced a small jar from her bag which contained a rather large
beetle within. “Ron, Harry: say hello to Miss Skeeter.”

“Come again?” Ron spluttered.

“She’s an unregistered animagus. Highly illegal. That’s how she was able to hear all those
conversations all year. I’m keeping her in here till we reach London. After that, she knows
not to publish anything about you Harry unless she wants me telling the Ministry about her
little secret.”

Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “We’re now adding kidnapping to our repertoire?!”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed as she examined the beetle with a smirk. “We’re going to be
adding much more to it during this war. Besides, no one will notice if one little tabloid
reporter doesn’t turn in her next scoop on time.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a wary look. “You know, sometimes I think you would make an
excellent Slytherin,” Harry muttered dryly.

Hermione pursed her lips, as if she had another secret under her belt, but said nothing else.

----

“Did I hear correctly you gave your winnings to the Weasleys?” Draco huffed as he helped to
lug Harry's trunk onto a trolley.

“To Fred and George, yes.”

“Why?”

Harry rolled her eyes, “Well, the Diggorys wouldn’t take it and it’s not like I really need the
money. Besides, I like the idea of being an angel investor.”

“Well, I can’t argue that you having some decent investments wouldn’t hurt your future. Do I
want to know what it is?”

“A joke shop.” She watched as Draco paled and burst into laughter. “Don’t worry, you have
at least a whole year before you have to worry about more pranksters at Hogwarts.”

The Malfoys were standing not too far from Uncle Vernon at the station, though both seemed
mildly insulted to be seen with the other. Lucius looked for lack of a better word, haunted.
His eyes softened as soon as he spotted Harry and Draco coming towards them.

“Harry, I-” His voice faltered as he realised there wasn’t much he could say. Then he gasped
as he felt Harry’s arms come around his middle, her face buried in his waistcoat.

“I forgive you,” she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, uncaring of who was
watching. “He’s furious with you, just so you know,” he murmured. “And I apologise in
advance for anything I am about to do.”

Harry lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Likewise. But if it comes down to it, you try and hex
me, I’ll hex you back.”

Lucius smirked, “There's the Harry I know.”

Harry removed her arms from Lucius and placed a tender kiss on Draco’s lips. “You better
come rescue me this summer. I’m not sure how well trauma and living with the Dursley’s
will mix together.”

Draco rolled his eyes and kissed her back. “As you wish.”

Harry nodded then handed the trolley to Uncle Vernon, not paying him much attention as the
pair of them walked out of the King’s Cross Station.

----

Draco had been wondering when his parents would address what had transpired with the
Dark Lord’s return, but he didn’t think it would be his mother to do it. Narcissa led him into
the Library once they had returned home to Malfoy Manor and sat him down in front of the
fireplace with a sad smile.

Narcissa sighed, “I believe by now, you understand things have changed. Your Father has
told me everything. That he is back and that he will stop at nothing to destroy Harry.”

Draco swallowed thickly, “Wha-what do we do?”

“We do what we have always done. We protect our home and our family…and we protect
Harry to the best of our abilities.”

“How?”

Narcissa looked to her hands and murmured, “The Dark Lord is able to read the minds of
others. It’s called Legilimency. He will likely use this against Harry to help isolate her from
her friends and peers. He will read her mind, play on her innermost thoughts and feelings. He
will use everything against her to destroy her.”

Draco pursed his lips, “What can I do about that?”

“I’m going to teach you Occlumency this summer. The magical defence of the mind against
external penetration. It will help to protect you from the Dark Lord from using your feelings
for Harry against you both.”

“Shouldn’t you teach Harry this too?”

Narcissa shook her head lightly. “Dumbledore will likely want her to train under someone he
trusts. Although something tells me that won’t go very well.”
Draco considered his mother’s words for a moment before asking softly: “How will all this
help Harry?”

“If we can convince the Dark Lord we are loyal, he will keep us alive. The only way we can
help Harry is if we are around to do so,” she replied bluntly. Narcissa then sighed and placed
her hand over her son’s. “This isn’t going to be easy. None of it. Your relationship will be
tested and you may have to do things you aren’t proud of to keep us safe. But I promise you,
I will do everything in my power to protect you and your father.”

“And Harry?”

Narcissa smiled softly, “And Harry too.”

“I love her, Mother,” he admitted with lowered eyes.

“Which is why it is important we need to do it this way. What’s that line from that Muggle
play again?”

Draco smiled, “Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it.”

Narcissa leaned over to kiss his forehead. “We’ll start in the morning. For now, get some
rest.”

Draco watched his mother leave the room before curling up in his chair and allowing himself
to think about the way things were. He could feel a strange weight on his father’s shoulders, a
sense of fear he had rarely seen before. He had no idea what the pair had discussed since that
night in the graveyard. His mother was probably right though, learning to hide his feelings
and thoughts would be beneficial in the long run. His father had been quick to change sides
last time, and he doubted that Voldemort would be quick to forget that either. His thoughts
drifted to Harry whose emotions were always bubbling at the surface, her rage and her
misery. He thought about how easily it would be for someone as powerful as Voldemort to
mess with those emotions, to use her love against her. Against them. He closed his eyes
tightly and promised himself that he would do everything to protect her, even from himself.
 The Girl Who Lied
Chapter Notes

And roll on Order of the Phoenix which brings us a very angry Harry, a Sirius-Harry
reunion and of course, slightly more mature moments between Harry and Draco moving
forwards ;)

Sweat trickled down Harry’s neck and her short black hair was plastered to the back of it, her
normal glasses swapped for a pair of sunglasses Aunt Petunia had reluctantly bought her to
stave off the heat of the sun. The heatwave that swept Britain was mildly uncomfortable, and
Harry longed for Draco to come and whisk her away to somewhere with magic-induced air
conditioning or at least a pool. She was wearing as little as possibly to overcome the heat, a
pair of shorts and crop top, both of which showed off her scars to the people of Privet Drive.
There was one along her wrist from where Wormtail had cut her, one down her leg when she
was attacked in the maze, as well as a couple of emotional scars the neighbours couldn’t quite
see. Luckily, Aunt Petunia didn’t seem to care for the neighbours during a heatwave, and
allowed Harry to wear what she wanted.

The playground was abnormally quiet for the middle of summer, the grass the colour of
wheat instead of its normal green hue. It made her long for the rainclouds of Scotland that
swept over Hogwarts on a near-weekly basis. For Draco to push her against a pillar or a tree
to escape the rain and kiss her so sweetly. She glanced down at the charm bracelet on her
wrist, examining the newer charms. A silver paw for Sirius, a heart with her birthstone
inserted in the middle, and a lily. She sighed, hoping that wherever Sirius was that he was
safe and that they’d see each other soon.

“Oi, Potter!” she heard Dudley jeer from the other side of the playground.

She rolled her eyes and huffed: “Yes, Diddikins, what can I do for you?”

Dudley had evolved into something even more annoying than usual over term time and now
she was living with a boy who swaggered around the neighbourhood in trainers and
basketball shirts. Unbeknownst to his oblivious parents, the boy spent half his time spray-
painting walls and smoking than being the gentlemen they believed he was. His reputation
was growing around Little Whinging, nearly as much as Harry’s own. It wasn’t her fault that
Uncle Vernon decided to brand her as a troublemaker sent to a disciplinary school. The scars
probably didn’t help that either.

“Heard you crying in your sleep again last night.”

Harry stilled. The nightmares had become an almost regular occurrence. Aunt Petunia bolted
into her room each time, pressing a flannel to her forehead and trying to wake her as she
screamed for her mother. Dudley didn’t understand what she’d seen though. She’d tried to
tell them her first night back at Privet Drive, and something had clouded over Petunia’s face.
She never said anything, but Petunia seemed strangely protective of Harry suddenly.
Something that Dudley and Vernon didn’t understand at all.

“He killed Cedric, Mum! Pathetic, you haven’t got a mum,” he sneered.

Harry could have hit him, could have aimed her wand at him and threatened to curse him, but
she knew another way to hurt him. “Dudley, Dudley, Dudley, don’t you remember who I am
or rather what I am,” she said sweetly. “I’m not just a witch. I’m your cousin. Your
benevolent cousin who just so happens to be keeping your private stash hidden from your
mummy out of the goodness of her heart.”

Dudley gulped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. Don’t think she’d want to see what her son is really doing locked in his room,
do you? And they couldn’t be mine. Not with those stains on them,” she smirked.

Suddenly the air shifted and Harry felt a familiar nauseating feeling as the clouds rolled in
overhead. Dudley glanced at Harry and murmured nervously, “What did you do?”

“This isn’t me.” She glanced behind them before grabbing Dudley’s hand. “Run!”

“What is it?”

“This is no time for explanations!” she cried as she broke out into a sprint. “Just run!”

-----

Not for the first time did Harry Potter wonder what her life had become. First she had been
expelled, then she wasn’t. Now she was set to appear before the Ministry of Magic to try and
plead to them that she had only used magic out of self-defence. She had also been whisked
away from Privet Drive by a bunch of people loyal to Dumbledore, but she wasn’t too put out
by that. Anything was better than listening to Uncle Vernon look gleeful at the prospect of
her being killed or imprisoned. He really was a horrible excuse for a human being. Although,
that being said she wasn’t particularly happy with Dumbledore right now.

“Why is no one telling me anything?” she huffed as she sat at the top of the stairs of
Grimmauld Place.

“I’m sure Dumbledore thought it’d be in your best interests,” Hermione replied with a weak
smile.

Harry snorted, “Since when has not telling me shit ever helped me?”

Hermione and Ron exchanged a wary look. Harry was furious, that much was obvious to
them. After all she’d been through, they could hardly blame her for resenting the fact that she
wasn’t privy to special meetings with the adults when it probably concerned her. Her green
eyes were narrowed as she watched the kitchen door, prepared to sprint down the stairs and
interrogate whoever left first.
“Have you seen Draco recently?” Hermione asked quietly.

Harry’s gaze flickered back to her. “No. He’s written, here and there, but he hasn’t asked me
to visit or anything.”

“Well, I suppose…given the circumstances…”

Harry sagged against the banister. “Still shit though.” She glanced around the landing and
frowned, “What have you been doing anyway?”

“We’ve been decontaminating this house, its been empty for ages and stuff’s been breeding in
here. We’ve managed to clear out the kitchen and some of the bedrooms -AARGH!”

Two separate cracks sounded from the bedroom and Fred and George appeared behind her
with matching grins on their faces. “Hello, Harry. We thought we heard your dulcet tones.”

“You don’t want to bottle up that anger, mate. Let it all out.”

The problem was, Harry did want to let it out but not in the healthy and constructive way that
her friends would recommend. She wanted to let the walls shake and the foundations of
Privet Drive to crumble away till Dumbledore would have no choice but to house her
somewhere else. Anywhere else. In the Barrow with the Weasleys, or even in whatever shack
Sirius found himself in that week. She also wanted to scream at the headmaster for denying
her any news for the entire summer. Only Draco had written and even then it had been small
talk and him telling her how much he missed her. She liked that, of course she did, but she
wanted news too. It would be unfair of her to ask that much of Draco, but the others weren’t
the children of Death Eaters.

She listened intently to the others explain what had happened to Percy, and how Fudge’s
paranoia was filling the Ministry. It didn’t surprise Harry that Fudge was targeted her as well,
she hadn’t done much to help that she’d admit but he was a politician. Politicians slandered
their opposition and as far as Fudge was concerned, anyone saying that Voldemort was back
under his time in power was the enemy. Fudge was a fool, and Harry predicted a terrible end
to his career if she had anything to do about it.

The door to the kitchen opened suddenly and Harry all but sprinted down the stairs. Her
green eyes focussed on a sight that swelled her heart.

“Sirius!”

Sirius’ hair was washed and perfectly fell around his shoulders, over the maroon suit he wore
which perfectly complimented the skin that had managed to gain a little colour over the past
year. There was still a hollowness to his eyes, but they regarded her warmly as she ran into
his arms. He smelled clean, she thought as she inhaled his scent deeply, nuzzling her face into
his collar. He was still far too skinny for her liking, but it was better than in Third Year. A
part of her almost couldn’t believe he was there.

“Hello, Bambi,” he murmured softly. He looked down with a warm smile at her, taking her
all in. “Been getting into trouble again?”
“Not really. But it’s only July,” she huffed.

Sirius grinned and led her into the kitchen where the other members, minus Snape, were sat
around the table. Mrs Weasley beamed at her as soon as she caught sight of her, wrapping her
in a tight hug before urging her to sit down. Harry often thought that Mrs Weasley would
have happily adopted her if the Malfoys hadn’t taken her under their wing instead. She
accepted the stew she’d made without a second thought though, listening intently to Sirius.

-----

Harry wondered why it was decided that just because she was fifteen, she shouldn’t know
anything. She’d survived her family’s murder as a baby. She’d battled basilisks and
dementors, and witnessed Voldemort rising. She had done so much more than anyone else at
the table, but there she was listening to Mrs Weasley tell her she was too young to hear such
things. Or rather talking about her to Sirius who glowered at the other woman as she seemed
to question his approach to handling the matter.

“She’s not a child!” Sirius snapped.

“She’s not an adult either. She’s not James, Sirius!” Mrs Weasley replied hotly.

Something clouded over Sirius’ eyes at the mention of James and Harry noted the low growl
emitting from her godfather. “I’m perfectly aware of who she is, Molly,” he seethed. “She is
my goddaughter and my responsibility.”

Molly scoffed, “It’s been rather difficult for you to look after her while you’ve been in
Azkaban, hasn’t it?”

Sirius scraped back his chair to glare at her, his mouth contorting as if to speak when a glass
of butterbeer smashed on the table and everyone’s attention snapped to Harry. Mrs Weasley’s
eyes widened in disbelief as she stared down at the Girl Who Lived who looked back at her
with hard, emerald eyes.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” she said through gritted teeth. “Sirius might not have been there
for me, but at least he’s the only person sat here who thinks telling me what’s going on is a
good idea.”

“But Dumbledore-” Mrs Weasley tried weakly.

Lupin sighed wearily, placing a hand on Sirius’ arm and tugging him back down to his seat.
“Dumbledore didn’t say Harry should know nothing, Molly. She needs to know what’s going
on. The abridged version, we’ll say.”

Everyone seemed appeased by that, and everyone returned to their seats whilst Lupin cleared
the broken glass and spilt butterbeer away. Sirius sent his old friend a grateful look before
turning to Harry.

“What do you want to know?”

----
The beds at Grimmauld Place were lumpy from years of disuse, but that wasn’t why Harry
couldn’t sleep. She’d slept on the floor of a cupboard before, she could handle uncomfortable
beds. When she closed her eyes, trying to lull herself to sleep with the sound of Ron’s distant
snoring, she could see Voldemort’s face. She could feel his hand tracing the curve of her
jawline with a pale finger. Those red eyes that were more like a snake’s than human that bore
into hers. Shaking, she crept out of bed and left the bedroom she was sharing with Hermione
and Ginny.

The house itself was off-putting, like someone had pulled it straight from a Dickensian novel.
The floorboards creaked, the wallpaper was damask and peeling with damp, and there
seemed to be cobwebs everywhere you turned. She found it hard to believe this was Sirius’
house but then again, he had scarcely mentioned his family. The shrieking portrait was
apparently his mother, and if that was the case Harry didn’t blame him for not talking about
them. She tentatively walked downstairs, pausing at the sound of piano keys playing
distantly. It was coming from a room next to the kitchen which when she pushed open the
door, she realised was in fact a parlour. There were piles of Daily Prophets lying about
collecting dust and two sofas that she imagined must have been silver once. There was also a
large piano forte, behind which sat Sirius who had a dishevelled dressing gown on, with large
cuffs that had his initials embroidered onto the fabric but even in the moonlight, she could
make out the moth-holes.

“Can’t sleep, Harry?” he murmured.

“Nightmares.”

Sirius smiled sadly, “Ah. I know the type. I used to have a horrible recurring one in Azkaban
when I first arrived. Didn’t sleep for a week.” He stopped playing and glanced at her. “What
do you see?”

“Voldemort.”

Sirius nodded, resuming his light playing of the keys. “About that night?”

Harry shrugged. “Mostly, though sometimes I see him as a kid. When he was my age, you
know?” She moved to sit beside him at the piano. “Why are you awake?”

“I don’t really sleep well in this house. Never have. It doesn’t have a lot of fond memories for
me.”

“Then why stay here?”

Sirius sighed, “Last place anyone would look for me, I suppose. Dumbledore wants me
laying low for a little longer, just till we sort somethings out.”

“What things?”

Sirius glanced at her and stopped his playing again. “You know I’m not stupid enough to
incur Lupin’s wrath for telling you too much.”
“Worth a shot,” she huffed. “You know I’ll find out sooner or later.”

A hand settled on her head and ruffled her hair. “I know you will,” he smirked. “But I won’t
be the one to let it slip. C’mon, Molly will kill me if she finds out I’ve deprived you of sleep
before your trial.”

“Oh, don’t remind me!” she whined as she allowed Sirius to guide her back upstairs.
 The Slytherin's Advocate
Chapter Notes

This was a rather hard chapter to write incorporating my Harry into it, who actually likes
the Malfoy's and vice versa but I did it! Now, lets get Harry back to Hogwarts so I can
start writing some smutty scenes for her and Draco ;)

“Harriet Potter, you cannot go to court dressed like that!” Mrs Weasley’s voice echoed
throughout Grimmauld Place.

Harry huffed, crossing her arms in defiance as she stood at the top of the stairs, staring down
at Mrs Weasley. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”

In truth, she knew it wasn’t the best outfit choice but she had limited options. It wasn’t as if
the Dursleys ever took her shopping, or took her anywhere that she would have to dress a
certain way. Jeans, t-shirts and baggy shirts were her day-to-day wardrobe choices at Privet
Drive. She caught sight of herself in one of the rusted mirrors dotted around the house and
pursed her lips. Maybe the Weird Sisters t-shirt and denim shorts sent the wrong message.

“Fine. I’ll add a blazer,” she grumbled.

“Oh, Sirius, tell her!”

Sirius turned the corner into the main hallway, leaning against the wall to assess her outfit
and grimaced. “She may have a point.”

Harry rolled her eyes. “In Legally Blonde, Elle won her case by dressing cute and being true
to herself!”

“Bambi, this is real life. Not an excellent movie,” Sirius drawled as he tried to conceal his
mirth. “Besides, I think I have just the thing.”

Sirius then disappeared into the kitchen then reappeared holding a large box wrapped with
ribbon. “This arrived for you this morning.”

Harry headed down the stairs to lift the lid up from the box to examine its contents. In-
between the layers of tissue paper was a green plaid matching skirt and jacket with a Chanel
label. The material was thick, almost woollen and was embossed with gold buttons.

Sirius then handed her a note on a small piece of card. “This came with it.”

The card bore the Malfoy family crest and read simply: ‘If you must wear plaid to court, let it
be Chanel – Draco’.
“How did you get this?”

Sirius smirked, “A house elf dropped it off this morning. House elves know everything, you
know. They just don’t feel the need to share all their secrets with their masters.”

Harry sighed in relief. The Death Eaters didn’t know where the Order was. That, at least was
the only good thing that had come out of the day so far. She carried the box back up into the
bedroom, smiling contently. And Draco. Draco had sent this for her, knowing she wouldn’t
have something appropriate. She kept all of her good clothes at Malfoy Manor these days –
Draco said it was wiser in case Uncle Vernon ever decided to actually kick her out. As she
changed into the suit, she remembered the howler that had come for Petunia and how her
aunt’s demeanour had changed afterwards. Not for the first time, did she wonder how much
the Dursley’s had been hiding from her.

----

It felt strange to walk down the corridors of the Ministry of Magic with people staring at her
and not in a good way. Mr Weasley seemed indifferent to it all as he told Harry about
something or other. Harry had wanted Sirius there with her, but Dumbledore had forbidden it
much to both of their chagrin. She supposed having Lucius or Draco there would look strange
as well, but then they had always defended her. Perhaps Lucius was simply keeping his head
down at the Ministry, much like Arthur Weasley was. For possibly the same reasons. Harry
sighed, and kept her head held high as she walked beside the older man, silently praying that
she wouldn’t be expelled. She couldn’t cope with Uncle Vernon gloating.

She paused in front of the chamber doors when she spied the familiar sight of pale blonde
hair. Lucius Malfoy stood, staring down at his pocket watch in front of the courtroom with a
grim look on his face.

“Lucius?”

Lucius raised his head and sighed in relief, “There you are. I was beginning to think you
weren’t going to make it.”

Harry hugged him tightly. “No, they changed the time of the trial. What are you doing here?”

“Yes, I was about to ask the same thing,” Mr Weasley said with barely concealed scowl.

Lucius glanced at the other man with disdain. “I asked the Minister if I could sit in during the
proceedings. What with her having no family, I cannot help but feel responsible for her.”

“I see.” Mr Weasley looked uneasily at the doors. “Why are they using these rooms?” he
asked warily.

“Fudge does love his theatrics,” Lucius muttered dryly. “Come along now, Harry.”

Though annoyed at being dismissed, Mr Weasley smiled at her as Lucius ushered her into the
courtroom. As soon as she set foot into the room though, she was instantly filled with dread.

“You’re late.”
“You did move the hearing forward, Minister,” Lucius said politely as he led her to her seat.
He kissed her forehead before disappearing into the empty gallery behind her.

Harry now sat before the almost fifty wizards and witches of the jury, her feet hovering above
the marble tiled floor in the unusually large chair she had been placed in. She considered
them all, mostly in black robes, and the ones she did recognise barely acknowledged her at
all. It was infuriating. She was sure this was far too many for a simple issue of underaged
magic. There was this many for a Death Eater, not a fifteen-year-old girl defending herself.
Somehow, she doubted that Fudge saw a difference these days.

“Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August into offences committed under the Decree for
the restriction of Underage Sorcery by Harriet Jane Potter, resident at number four, Privet
Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey,” Fudge stated to the court.

“Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic-”

“Witness for the defence: Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore,” a voice sounded as the
doors to the chamber opened once more.

Fudge’s eyes narrowed as soon as Dumbledore entered the courtroom. “You-you got our note
that the time of the hearing had changed?” he asked, noticeably ruffled by his appearance.

“I must have missed it,” Dumbledore smiled. “Luckily, I arrived at the Ministry three hours
early. Now, what are the charges?”

“That she did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions,
produced a Patronus charm in the presence of a Muggle.” Fudge then turned his attention to
Harry. “You are Harriet Jane Potter, are you not?”

Harry scowled back at Fudge. “Yes.”

“And did you on the night of 2nd August conjure a Patronus charm in front of a Muggle?”

“Yes, but-”

“And you are aware that wizards and witches under seventeen are not allowed to use magic
outside of school?”

“Yes, but-”

“And that this is not the first time you have done so?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “But this time was within good reason-”

This time her interruption came from one of the others sitting above her. “You produced a
fully-fledged Patronus charm?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. It’s a stag, like my father’s.” She paused and licked her lips. “Remus
Lupin taught me in Third Year.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Fudge muttered hastily. “All very impressive. But we are discussing the night
in question where you deliberately conjured such a charm in the presence of a Muggle.”

A low growl escaped Harry and she moved to stand from her seat before Dumbledore pushed
her back down again with a gentle shove. “Perhaps, Minister, it would be wise to allow the
defendant to defend themselves before you sentence them,” Lucius said suddenly with a force
smile.

Fudge seemed to almost blush at this, and gestured to Harry to continue. “Do you have
anything to say in your defence, Miss Potter?”

Harry’s eyes hardened as she gazed back at the Minister. She could have been polite, that
would have been a smart move but Harry had never been good at handling her emotions. “I
do. Firstly, Minister, the incident you are referring to only happened because dementors
attacked me and my cousin Dudley. Dudley, is very much aware of my magic and I’d say was
quite grateful not to have had his soul sucked out of him that night because of it.”

“Dementors?! In Little Whinging? Preposterous.”

She shot a glare to the wizard who had spoken up before continuing: “Secondly, if you are
about to launch into a tirade about the ridiculousness of such an incident occurring, I would
like to remind you of what happened two years ago. That first misdemeanour you were
referring to. A situation, I believe was soothed over because you were trying to hide the
blunder of said-prison’s security issues.”

“Which then leads me to the fact that because of you, I was attacked not once but thrice by
dementors whilst at Hogwarts and I have witnesses to corroborate this. So, why is it so out of
character for them to attack me at home?” she hissed.

It was then that Dumbledore intervened before Fudge could open his mouth. “We actually
have a witness of this attack, if you care to listen to their testimony.”
Harry listened to Miss Figgs’ testimony eagerly, remembering how it felt sitting in this very
courtroom in Dumbledore’s memory at Karkaroff’s trial. If this was a proper trial, she knew
that it would be packed with wizards and reporters like Rita Skeeter to watch her stand trial.
Strangely though, there were no spectators at the hearing besides Lucius. ‘Maybe, Fudge’s
scared he’s going to lose,’ she thought. ‘Or he just wants a quick verdict not a show’.

“He is not back,” Fudge hissed at Dumbledore and Harry returned to the conversation at
hand.

A part of Harry felt sorry for Fudge. He was clearly terrified of the truth, of Voldemort
coming back under his term. Possibly because it meant he’d have to deal with it, or possibly
because he knew that Voldemort would seek to eradicate anyone in power whose views didn’t
align with his. She wished she could show him that night. Pull that memory from her mind
like Dumbledore did with his memories, and show them to Fudge. Prove to him that
Voldemort was out there somewhere but then he would also see Lucius in the graveyard and
Harry didn’t want that. She glanced behind at the gallery to see Lucius sat there with pursed
lips, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore as the headmaster defended Harry expertly.
“You are free to go, Miss Potter.”

Harry’s heart swelled with relief but then in an instant, Dumbledore swept out of the
courtroom. “Professor-!” she tried to call for him, but he was out the doors too quickly for her
to catch up with him.

Lucius was at her side instantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I-I didn’t expect him to just leave like that,” she murmured with a sad smile. “Guess
he’s just a busy man, huh?”

“Nevertheless, I’m glad that you’ve been cleared. Ridiculous charges anyway,” he muttered
bitterly.

“Fudge just wanted to piss Dumbledore off I think, make some sort of point.” She paused.
“How did you manage to convince Fudge to let you in there?”

“It’s not exactly a secret that I have a lot of influence in the Ministry,” he smirked. “The
Minister and I do have some similar interests in that sense.”

“You couldn’t have paid him off instead?”

“Unfortunately, not this time around. He seemed quite adamant about trying you as one
would a war criminal.” Lucius hummed in disapproval, leading Harry out of the courtroom.
“Still, this should never have happened.”

“It wasn’t…I mean-” Her voice trailed off as she glanced at him nervously. “Him, was it?”

Lucius stilled. “As far as I’m aware, this has nothing to do with him.”

Harry frowned, looking back at the witches and wizards leaving the courtroom. “Well, if he
didn’t do it, then who did?”

“I don’t know, who have you annoyed recently,” he sighed wearily.

“How long have you got?” she muttered dryly.

Lucius rolled his eyes and began to lead her back towards the elevators. “Come on, no doubt
I’ll have to surrender you to Weasley soon. I can at least buy you a hot chocolate from the
café before then.”

-----

Her scar burned again, and she tried her best to conceal her grimace at the feeling. It was a
few days after the hearing, after Lucius had reluctantly returned her to Mr Weasley with a
promise to tell Draco the good news. Since then, they had managed to remove quite a bit of
the mould that was growing in one of the bedrooms at Grimmauld Place and both Hermione
and Ron had made Prefect. The latter thought left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth, as a part of
her wondered why she hadn’t been selected.
She wasn’t as smart as Hermione, but her grades were decent enough and for every detention
she had, she managed to even out the house points with her quidditch skills. She was the
Triwizard Tournament champion, the youngest seeker ever, and she had done so much over
the past four years to warrant some praise. Staring into her reflection in the bathroom mirror,
Harry scowled. Ron hadn’t battled the Basilisk, she had. Hermione hadn’t produced a
Patronus that scared off over a dozen dementors, she had. They had been safe at Hogwarts
whilst she was being tortured and forced to watch Cedric die. They hadn’t done anything like
she had. She had done ten times more for Hogwarts and the wizarding world than anyone
else had at her age and yet here she was. Nearly expelled, accused of being insane, and living
in a house full of mould and curses.

‘I’m the Girl Who fucking Lived’, she thought with a low growl. ‘I deserve better than this’.

‘Yes, you do’, said a voice in the back of her mind. It was almost like a hiss. A strangely
familiar hiss. For a second, she thought she saw something tall and dark in her reflection, but
when she whipped her head around, she found she was alone with the door locked.

Hesitantly, Harry washed her face and willed herself to push aside her insecurities.
‘Dumbledore probably thought you have enough on’, she reasoned with herself. ‘Ron needs
this. Hermione wants this. You-you have too much on at the moment’. The words didn’t
sound right in her mind as she patted her face dry and adjusted her glasses.
 Of Nightmares and Prefects
Chapter Notes

Now we start getting to the Voldemort nightmares and Umbridge at Hogwarts. Enjoy!

Red eyes bore into hers as he raised his finger landed on her scar and Harry heard herself
screaming from the pain it caused her to have him so near. Her hands grasped at the statue,
clawing at it to try and get away from him but he persisted. He eventually wrenched his hand
away from her and Harry felt like she could finally breathe again, slumping against the
statue’s arms as she attempted to recover.

“Astonishing really, what one simple potion can undo.”

Voldemort then tilted his head as he assessed her, leering at her bloody body. He stepped
forward till he was a hairs’ breath away from her. “After tonight, everyone will know how
you begged for death. Anything for me to stop. But I won’t stop because I want everyone to
know that you are mine,” he hissed.

Harry awoke with a start, to the sounds of Mrs Weasley and Mrs Black shouting over each
other. The door to the bedroom opened and Hermione appeared with a cup of tea, fully
dressed and her bushy hair tied up in a messy bun.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she chuckled.

Harry grumbled as she put on her glasses to look blearily up at her. “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry. You’ve got an hour before we need to be at the station.” Hermione then sat at
Harry’s feet on the bed and handed her the tea. “Nightmares again?”

“Yeah,” she lied. “Nightmare.”

----

She had never considered herself someone who needed an entourage, though Draco insisted
she was. So, it was a rather strange thing to walk into King’s Cross Station with the
Weasleys, Hermione, members of the Order and one grinning black dog walking alongside
her. Mad Eye had insisted she needed guarding, even though Harry knew that Voldemort
wouldn’t attack her at the station. It wasn’t his style. He’d much rather do it somewhere
significant, not at a train station where just anyone could help her. As she watched them take
her trunks, she ruffled Sirius’ fur and wished that she could take him with her. She could tell
people he was a therapy dog. They might believe that, though Snape might have something to
say about that. At least, she thought, as she watched Hermione and Ron head to the Prefects’
compartment, she wouldn’t be left alone on the train.
----

By the time Hermione and Ron found her, she was half-asleep sharing a compartment with
Ginny, Neville and the dreamy-eyed Luna Lovegood. Both wore strange looks on their faces
as they sat down, Ron diving straight for the Chocolate Frogs by Harry’s legs.

“What happened?”

“Well, there’s two Prefects for each house,” Hermione began nervously. “And -well-
Slytherin’s is-”

Yawning, Harry rubbed at her eyes. “Let me guess, one of them is my silver-haired lover,”
she muttered dryly.

“Yes, but the other one is…” Hermione’s voice trailed off.

“I bet it’s Daphne. She’d be great.”

“Oh, she would, mate, but it ain’t her,” Ron said around a mouthful of chocolate. “It’s Pansy
Parkinson.”

Something within Harry stirred, an ugly feeling that she hadn’t felt all summer. “You have
got to be kidding me. Parkinson? What the fuck was Snape thinking?!”

“Told you she’d take it well,” Ron chortled.

Harry scowled, “Oh, I bet she’s loving this.”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione said softly. “We just have to patrol the corridors every so often. She
won’t be with him constantly. If anything, they try to get the houses to mix the prefects up to
help inter-house cooperation.”

“Yeah, and we get to hand out punishments if people misbehave,” Ron grinned. “I am so
making Crabbe do lines! He hates writing.”

“Ronald! You cannot abuse your position like that,” Hermione scolded.

“What? Like Malfoy won’t abuse it at all?” Ron muttered dryly. “Harry, back me up.”

Harry snorted, “I’m not his keeper.”

“See? I’m just making sure I get his mates before he gets mine.”

“For heaven’s sake, Ron-”

Harry listened to them argue as Ron detailed his plans against the Slytherins, but her mind
was solely on Draco. She excused herself from the compartment and began to head towards
the Slytherin compartments. Moments before she reached the one she’d seen Blaise in, she
was pulled to the side and twirled around till she was met by the smirking face of Draco.
“Hey, Potter.”

Harry chuckled and kissed him softly, “I’ve missed you.”

Draco’s hands came up to caress her black locks. “I’ve missed you too. How’ve you been?”

“A little pissed off. It hasn’t been…an easy summer,” she sighed placing her hand over his
chest. “I nearly got expelled, and half the wizarding world thinks I’m an unstable attention-
seeker.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re an attention seeker.” He pecked her on the lips. “And I’m glad you
didn’t get expelled.”

Harry managed a chuckle, “Honestly, I was surprised you weren’t there. Aren’t you usually
defending my honour at this kind of thing?”

“Father didn’t think the testimony of your boyfriend would help matters,” Draco replied with
a slight blush. “Besides, you had Dumbledore, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Her voice trailed off before she met his grey eyes. “Still not thrilled that
people think I’m crazy.”

“Harry, you are impulsive, headstrong and too sharp-tongued for your own good. But you’re
not crazy,” he said softly.

Harry leaned into his touch till her finger brushed over the new badge on the lapel of his
robes. “So I guess I’ve got the perfect set up, huh?”

“How come?”

“My two best friends are Prefects and so is my boyfriend,” she smirked. “The only detentions
I’ll be getting from now on will be from Snape.”

Draco rolled his eyes before his lips stretched into his trademark smirk, “Oh? You want me to
abuse my position, Miss Potter? That’s going to cost you, you know?”

Harry pulled his tie roughly till they were a hairs’ breath apart. “Oh, I’m sure we could reach
some arrangement.”

Before they could kiss, Hermione shouted down the corridor. “Harry! We’re nearly at
Hogsmeade!”

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away from Draco and headed back to the compartment. She sent
him a playful wink and blew him a kiss, a promise for later when they were finally alone.

----

The demise of Pansy Parkinson was going to look like an accident, Harry decided as she saw
Pansy proudly showing her Prefect badge off in between making glances at Draco. She’d
make her trip down the stairs or get whacked by the Whomping Willow -maybe lead her into
the part of the Forbidden Forest where Hagrid’s spiders were. Whatever plan she came up
with, she knew she’d have no regrets. If Pansy thought she could steal Draco away with a
few patrols, she had another thing coming. Harry would stake her claim over Draco in any
way she saw fit for the next year.

Things were bad enough this year without Pansy. She’d only been back at Hogwarts less than
an hour and she was hallucinating weird skeleton-like horses pulling the carriages that only
Luna Lovegood could see. ‘Excellent’, she thought bitterly. ‘Maybe Fudge is right and I am
insane’. Then her eyes scanned along the teacher’s table to find Hagrid only to be confronted
with the toad-like face of one Dolores Umbridge.

“Oh shit!”

“What did you do?” Draco asked sharply.

“I haven’t don’t anything. Look. That woman in the pink. She was at my hearing. She works
for Fudge,” she hissed.

Draco looked to the table before burying his face in his hands. “Father warned me this might
happen.”

“What would happen?”

“Well, I think there might have been a vacancy available after last term,” he muttered dryly.

Realisation dawned on Harry and a sickening feeling developed in her stomach as a result.
“You have got to be kidding me.”

And so it was, that Dolores Umbridge became the next Defence Against the Dark Arts
professor.

----

Harry wandered back to the Slytherin common room, a little deflated. Several First Years had
looked terrified of her when they noticed her scar, and Draco had disappeared with Pansy to
redirect the Slytherins’ to the common room. Then the second she stepped into the common
room, she was picked up into the air and over the shoulders of Blaise Zabini.

“Zabini! Put me down!” she growled.

“Ha! No chance am I leaving you alone to mope. You’re dangerous enough when you’re in a
good mood,” he grinned.

Harry had to give him that. She had developed a reputation for having a hot temper,
especially when it came to Draco. He deposited her at one of the study desks dotted around
the common room, staring down at her with a serious look he seldom wore.

“Alright, talk to me. What’s happened?”

“Fudge tried to get me expelled because I conjured a Patronus in front of my cousin. There
were dementors there, but he didn’t believe me.” She paused. “And I can’t sleep without
seeing Voldemort’s face.”

Blaise pursed his lips, “I see. Have you tried sleeping potions? I can give you one.”

Harry smiled fondly up at the other boy for not bringing up the hearing, no doubt because
Draco had warned him off the topic. “Thanks, but if I’m late to class – you can tell Snape, not
me.”
Rolling his eyes, Blaise convinced her to play a game of wizard’s chess for him as they
waited for Draco to appear. Harry watched the door intently until Draco appeared with a mass
of First Years, trying his best to fall out of step with Pansy. Once he’d given them their final
instructions, he all but fell into Harry’s lap.

“They’re such little shits,” he grumbled.

“Aww just like you were,” Harry chuckled before kissing him softly.

Blaise sighed dramatically, “Oh, those were the days. The pair of you fighting and acting like
you didn’t like each other – now you just make out and scream at teachers and Ministry
officials.”

“Shut it, Zabini,” Draco muttered against Harry’s lips.

Blaise stayed at the table for only two more minutes before their kissing started to become
heated, and he ezcused himself. Harry moaned sotyl agains Draco’s lips, her hands fisting in
the lapels of his robes.

“Not gonna lie, the Prefect badge is kinda a turn on,” she purred.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, you gonna sneak me into the Prefects bathroom one night? Huh? Have a little late
night swim?”

Draco groaned, “You are a wily minx, Potter.”

“Slytherin,” she smirked before kissing him once more. “Come on, we better turn in. Big day
tomorrow.”

“Ah yes,” he sighed as he pulled her up from the chair. “Meeting the new Defence Against
the Dark Arts professor. Shall I owl Father now or after class?”

Harry shoved him lightly before allowing him to wrap his arm around her waist as they
headed for the dormitories.

----

Voldemort stood on the Platform 9 ¾ craning his neck from side to side as if still getting used
to having neck muscles. He wore a black suit, tall and out of place amongst the gathered
children and parents. Harry screamed for their attention, trying to warn them to run but no
one heeded her warnings as Voldemort began to walk slowly towards her. She tried to run but
the platform seemed to absorb her feet into the cement, holding her still no matter how hard
she struggled until his arms came to wrap around her. One pale hand went to her waist whilst
the other cupped her jaw, tilting it up to face him.

“See? They will not help you, Harry. They never could,” he chuckled darkly. “You were
always meant to be mine.”

Harry opened her eyes to find that she was sweating profusely, almost soaking the bedding
and that Daphne was stood at her bedside with a cold flannel and a glass of water. “Come
on,” she whispered. “Get changed. I’ll bring you a towel to sleep on.”

Nodding dumbly, Harry accepted the water which she gulped down as Daphne disappeared
into the bathroom to collect a towel. Harry stripped, changing into an oversized t-shirt of
Dudley’s she kept for emergencies and tried to hide her embarrassment as Daphne lay the
towel on the bed for her.

“Daphne?” she whispered once she was settled on the bed again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, now go to sleep.”

 The Devil Wears Pink
Chapter Notes

It's time for Umbridge vs Harry round one! Enjoy!

Dolores Umbridge was perhaps the worst teacher Hogwarts had ever had, and given the
position’s history that was truly saying something. Quirrell had been a quivering mess with a
malicious parasite on the back of his head. Lockhart had been a celebrated self-obsessed
charlatan who was now a permanent resident at St Mungo’s. Lupin had his furry little
problem but other than that, Harry saw no flaws in his teaching style besides the notable
absences from class after a full moon. Moody or rather Barty Crouch Junior had miraculously
been a competent teacher that taught them important lessons around dark subjects, which
considering he was a Death Eater was rather counterproductive. If he hadn’t been a Death
Eater though, Harry fully believed that Crouch would have made a good teacher at Hogwarts.
Now in the classroom that Harry now considered to be cursed, sat a woman wearing a smile
that didn’t reach her eyes and a worrisome amount of pink that didn’t give off the proud
Legally Blonde vibe Harry could have supported.

Umbridge, it transpired, didn’t want to teach them magic at all. The books she handed out
where pathetic attempts at reducing the students’ knowledge of protecting themselves. Harry
glanced at it and scowled. She imagined this had something to do with Fudge’s paranoia of
Dumbledore rising against him, and becoming Minister himself. Perhaps he thought that
Dumbledore would indoctrinate the students against him. Harry glanced at Umbridge and the
photo of Fudge on her desk, and considered that his efforts to prove otherwise would be in
vain.

“So you want us not to learn magic in a school for magic?” she drawled. “That seems rather
counterproductive.”

“Raise your hand next time, Miss Potter,” Umbridge quipped. “The Ministry believes that
theoretical knowledge will be more sufficient to get you through your examinations, which,
after all, is what school is all about.”

Harry wondered if Umbridge knew anything about the school. That there were mere-people,
man-eating spiders, centaurs and Merlin only knew what else on the grounds. That knowing
how to defend yourself in practice could come in handy on any random day, not including
days where Voldemort decided to mess with Harry’s education.

“Then how are we supposed to prepare for what’s out there?”

“Nothing is out there. What could possibly want to hurt you?”

Harry shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Lord Voldemort?”

Umbridge froze. Ron gasped. Lavender squeaked. Draco buried his head in his hands,
knowing that Harry had once again made an enemy. “Ten points from Slytherin, Miss
Potter!” Umbridge said coldly.

“What? So Cedric Diggory just dropped dead of his own accord, did he?” Harry snarled.

“Cedric Diggory’s death was an accident. These things do happen.”

Something within Harry twisted and took hold of her tongue. “Yes, and I suppose the
disappearances and the muggle attacks all just happen randomly too. Doesn’t matter that’s
how it all started last time, and that once again the Ministry will do fuck all about it because
‘these things do happen’. You might be content to think everything’s fine, but I’m not.”

“Come here, Miss Potter.”

Harry didn’t move from her seat. “You’ll have to forgive me, Professor, but the last time my
professor wanted a word with me in private, he turned out to be a Death Eater and tried to kill
me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I am a Ministry official-!”

Harry’s eyes stared back at Umbridge as she replied bluntly: “Exactly.”

The entire classroom was filled with shocked murmurs and smug smiles as they watched
Umbridge’s face contort with rage. “Detention, Miss Potter!” she snapped. She returned to
her desk quickly and began scribbling something on a piece of pink parchment.

Harry snapped her fingers. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my cue to leave.” She then
turned to Draco and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you back in the common room.”

“Where do you think you are going?!”

Standing up from her desk, Harry swung her bag over her shoulder and shrugged. “Snape’s
office. I’m assuming that’s where you were going to send me anyway – thought I’d save you
some time.”

She then promptly took the piece of parchment in Umbridge’s hand before strutting out of the
classroom with all of the swagger she could muster.

-----

Harry knocked on Snape’s office until the dark-haired Potions’ Master opened the door, his
eyes narrowing at the sight of her. “What did you do?”

“Umbridge kicked me out.” She then handed him the piece of parchment. “This should
explain everything.”
Snape snatched the parchment from her, reading it quickly before stepping aside to allow her
into his office. “Sit down.” He moved to sit behind his desk where he had been marking
papers. “I’m not even going to ask if this is true, because I know you did. You called
Umbridge a liar and that the Dark Lord has returned.”

“Yes.”

Sighing, Snape focussed his eyes onto her as she slumped in her seat on the other side of his
desk. “Sometimes, Potter, I wonder if you have a brain in there or have all those tumbles in
quidditch finally had an impact on your mentality. You do realise who she reports to?”

“And there I was thinking we could have a civil conversation for once,” she replied coldly.
“Yes, of course, I know who she reports to.”

“Then I suggest you keep your head down and your mouth shut for the rest of the term.
Umbridge is here for one reason and one reason only: to report back to Fudge about you,
Dumbledore and the running of Hogwarts. So kindly stop giving her something to write
about,” he snapped.

Harry rolled her eyes and huffed, “She’s still a bitch.”

Snape glanced at her. “No comment.”

The corners of Harry’s lips twitched and for a moment she thought the pair had a rare
instance of comraderie until he opened his mouth again. “She’s given you detention every
night this week, by the way.”

“What? Every night? Professor, can’t you-” she spluttered.

“No.”

“You know, things like this, is why people hate you,” she muttered dryly.

“I think I’ll live,” he drawled. “Now: out of my office.”

Not for the first time did Harry think that Snape was an utter asshole, but as she left the
office, she considered that he was a better teacher than Umbridge. If only slightly.

----

Everywhere Harry went, she felt that people were talking about her and what was worse were
the snippets of conversation she’d hear as she passed the other students in the hallways. They
shot her wary looks as if they were scared she would lash out at them, and a part of Harry
wanted to show them all that night to make them believe Voldemort was back. Shove the
sight of Cedric dying and Voldemort rising down their traitorous throats. It did very little to
help her mood, slowly getting more irritated throughout the day as she listened to Hermione
and Ron snipe at each other about Prefect duties and the endless debate over house-elf right.

There were other things as well. She missed Hagrid. Missed being able to sneak into his hut
to have a chat, somebody she could vent to who probably wasn’t even listening that much.
She liked that about him. It didn’t help that his replacement for his class was winning the
students over with non-malicious creatures that wouldn’t kill them or bite them. Even
quidditch was becoming an issue as this five-day detention would mean she couldn’t take
part in the try-outs of the new keeper. Marcus Flint had left last year, and Harry missed the
way that he treated her like their star player. The new captain didn’t seem pleased that Harry
had managed to get detention all week-long, missing the try-outs to help narrow down the
new keeper. She could ask Snape to get involved but somehow, she doubted Snape would do
anything to help her out -even if it would help the quidditch team.

After excusing herself from Ron and Hermione, Harry stormed into the common room and
with a scowl, laid herself across the couch with her head in Draco’s lap. Draco glanced down
from the book he’d been reading to run his free hand through her hair.

“Tough day?”

“You have no idea,” she grumbled. “And I’ve got detention tonight with Umbridge. Fuck!”

“It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t have shouted back at her -amusing as it was, acting like
that will only land you in further trouble.”

“But it’s the truth!” she snapped.

Draco’s hand stilled in her hair. “Harry, I know you’re going through something right now,
and I sympathise. But please remember, I’m on your side,” he murmured.

“Sorry. I just –” Tears pricked Harry’s eyes as she nuzzled closer to him. “I hate that they
don’t believe me. Why don’t they believe me?”

Draco sighed, “Fudge did a marvellous PR strategy, darling. Before anyone could process
what Dumbledore had told them last year, Fudge had the Daily Prophet telling everyone
you’re a liar and Dumbledore’s senile. It’s easier to believe you’re traumatised than to believe
You-Know-Who is back.”

“If I’m traumatised, it’s because of him.” She thought back on her dreams and shuddered at
the memory of him touching her. “What will it take to make them believe?”

“Do you mean our peers or the wizarding world?”

“I don’t live with the wizarding world.”

Draco hummed as he pondered his answer. “Proof. They don’t believe you because they have
no reason to. Cedric died, certainly but during a tournament that has had casualties before.”

“What if I could show them my memory? Dumbledore has a pensive in his office. Maybe I
could…”

“The thing with memory, my love, is that trauma can warp it. We can choose to remember
things a certain way. Fudge would merely say your imagination conjured You-Know-Who up
because you couldn’t process Cedric’s death at the hands of anything else.”
“He died by an Unforgivable Curse.”

“Which Moody had taught us at the beginning of term,” he muttered. “I’m not trying to
annoy you here, I’m just telling you how they would twist it to justify the narrative they want
to spin.”

“This is ridiculous,” she sighed.

“This is politics.” He glanced up at the clock on the mantlepiece. “C’mon, it’s nearly five
o’clock. You need to get going.”

Harry sat up reluctantly and turned to him. “Can’t I just owl your father?” she whined.

“You not liking a punishment, isn’t enough for him to get involved, I’m afraid,” he smirked.
He then kissed her softly. “Go on before she sends someone to look for you.”

Hesitantly, Harry pulled away from him and grabbed her bag. It might have not been what
she wanted to hear, but Draco was good at keeping her in check. Most of the time.

-----

‘You deserve to be punished’. The words haunted Harry as she walked back to the common
room. Her scar had left a piercing pain running through her when Umbridge had touched her,
and all she could think of was those red eyes staring back at her. She let out a shaky breath as
she stood before the opening and stuttered out the password. As she snuck into her dormitory,
she tried to keep her tears at bay. Umbridge wasn’t just a terrible teacher – she was evil. Barty
Crouch’s teaching methods at first had been a bit unethical at times, but he had never actively
hurt his students. He had protected Harry at all costs, whilst Umbridge seemed to have a
glimmer of glee in her eyes as she examined the phrase ‘I shall not tell lies’ etched into her
skin.

She should tell Draco. She should Lucius. She should tell Dumbledore. She should tell Sirius.
But all the whispers of the last few days haunted her still, and so she decided to say nothing.
If they didn’t believe her about Voldemort, they certainly wouldn’t believe her about this. The
thought made her heart ache and she buried her head into her pillow to muffle the sound of
her crying.
 Think Twice Before You Touch My Girl
Chapter Notes

You wanted protective Malfoy energy? You got it.

Voldemort sat beside the fire contemplating the enigma that was Harriet Potter. He
remembered the night he first met her: that crisp October night when he visited Godric’s
Hollow. He hadn’t paid much attention to her father, killing him swiftly before finding her
mother barricading herself in front of the crib to protect her infant daughter. He remembered
her pleas, begging for him to spare her child in exchange for her life. In the end, she was
quickly dispatched with along with her husband and he was the third victim of that night, not
Harry. She had been such a small thing with tufts of black hair and a pair of watery green eye
staring back at him from the crib, crying for her mother. It was hard to think that same infant
was the young girl from the graveyard. A wisp of a thing wearing his house’s colours and his
scar with pride, and those eyes of hers. Oh, how those eyes burned with such hatred for him
as they fought. He smirked at the memory.

She was so different each time he saw her. Taller, less skinny, and certainly angrier. Yet each
time she swore and sneered at him with all the haughtiness of a true Slytherin, he couldn’t
help but admire her. She wasn’t what he had been expecting, that was sure enough. He had
not considered how much she would embrace her Slytherin nature nor any of the traits he had
unknowingly passed to her. Oh, Wormtail had been most helpful in informing him of her
powers. A Parseltongue, of all things. Such a rare trait for her to have, and it fell from her
tongue so easily thanks to him. He bristled at the thought of how Fudge was using her gift as
a reason to distance himself from her, alongside her claims Voldemort was back. He had no
issues with her being isolated from the world she loved, but he did with the fact that people
liked to demonise their shared gift. She was better than the others. She was like him.

Voldemort stilled. A little younger and much more emotional than he ever was, but she was
like him in many ways. Cunning and morally dubious at times, with a face that people
couldn’t help but trust. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing for the Light. It wasn’t in regards
to what he had planned for her. Harry would lose everything and be completely at his mercy
by the time he was done with her. The thought made him smirk, his red eyes gleaming with
delight at the image running through his mind of Harry Potter at his feet.

----

It took Draco till the last day of detentions to notice her hand as he went to hold it as they
walked back from Care of Magical Creatures, and she winced, pulling it away harshly. “What
have you done to your hand?”

“Nothing! It’s fine,” she said with a forced smile.

Draco threw a pointed look before grabbing her hand and holding it up to examine it. His
face fell as he saw the words ‘I must not lie’ etched into her skin. “Harry, wha-how did this
happen?”

Harry couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed at having been caught. “Harry…did Umbridge do
this?” he asked slowly.

Harry said nothing, but the tears in her eyes spoke volumes and suddenly the blonde’ eyes
were ablaze with fury. “She did this to you?!”

“It’s-it’s really not that bad,” she tried weakly.

“Not so-Harry, this is illegal. She’s- Why haven’t you-why haven’t you told Dumbledore?”
he spluttered angrily.

Harry simply shrugged. “He’s got too much on his hands right now to worry about me,” she
muttered bitterly. “He hasn’t spoken to me since June.”

Draco growled lowly before bringing her into a tight embrace, burying his face into her neck.
“Father will hear of this. I don’t care if we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile. Umbridge
cannot get away with this.” Harry nodded against him and hugged him back, crying into his
shoulder.

And so it was that Lucius Malfoy received another owl and appeared in the hallways of
Hogwarts with a face of thunderous rage. Within minutes of his arrival, he had cornered
Snape and demanded a meeting with him in his office. The four of them sat around Snape’s
desk as the Potions Master examined Harry’s hand carefully.

“You said she gave you a quill that did this?” Harry nodded. “It would seem that Professor
Umbridge minors in torture implements.”

Lucius tapped his cane against the floor. “This is barbaric, Severus. She cannot be allowed to
do this to students and get away with it.”

Snape glanced at him. “We both knew there was a risk of this happening.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked nervously.

Lucius shifted uneasily in his seat, clutching his cane tightly. “Umbridge isn’t exactly known
for being an ethical person. There have been numerous occasions where her true agenda has
come to light, mostly involving restrictions to other species such as werewolves and
merepeople. Naturally, most people give her a wide berth.”

“So, I take it she isn’t one of your lot then?”

“Merlin no,” he sniffed. “Whilst some of her ideologies fit with the Death Eaters’, there is
one glaring problem. She’s in love with Fudge. Completely infatuated with the man. That’s
why he sent her over anyone else. Although I do question sending a spy that has no
experience with children.”
“Well, she couldn’t control the class five minutes in.”

Lucius shot her a pointed look. “So, that wasn’t because you told her the Dark Lord was back
and insinuated the Ministry wasn’t to be trusted?”

Harry’s head whirled around to face Draco and huffed, “Why must you tell him everything?”

“Because you won’t and this is important,” he muttered. “Harry, I’m not an idiot, alright? I
know you have a near-death wish. I’ve watched as you’ve had broken bones and concussions,
but I’ve never seen a teacher hurt you like this.”

“Lockhart removed my bones,” she murmured under her breath.

“That was incompetency, not malice. Harry, please, just-just let me help you for once,” he
pleaded.

Harry leaned forward to press her forehead against his and whispered: “Ok.”

Lucius cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Snape. “What can we do about this,
Severus?”

“I can give her a salve to help it help, but it will scar.” He then stood from his desk in search
of a bandage and said-salve. “As for Umbridge, I think the best tactic would be to tell the
headmaster.”

“And what, pray tell will he do about it apart from hide in his office?” Harry growled.

“Harry,” Lucius sighed warningly.

“Well, I’m sorry but the man hasn’t spoken to me in months. He barely acknowledges me. I
heard nothing from anyone all summer because of him. I am allowed to be pissed off,” she
sniffled.

Lucius glanced at her and pursed his lips. “Has he really? Well that is unfortunate.”

“What do you know?”

“A little about a lot, enough to make me dangerous. Might you two excuse us for a moment, I
need a word in private with Severus.”

Reluctantly Harry and Draco left the office, only for Snape to cast a Silencing Charm to stop
them from eavesdropping. He then turned his attention to the blonde man. “What?”

“You know full damn well what. You know exactly why Dumbledore is keeping his distance
and you know it’s not helping,” Lucius snapped.

“What the headmaster chooses to do with Potter is very little of my concern, Lucius,” Snape
drawled.
Lucius’ lip curled upwards into a snarl. “It is very much your concern, Severus, especially
since she is in your house. She is your responsibility, but you would rather brush this matter
aside because you don’t care what happens to her.”

“Why don’t you do something about it then?” Snape cried.

“Don’t you think I’ve already tried? Fudge implemented some stupid decree which is why
she got hired in the first place! He wants Dumbledore watched. He wants to ensure Harry
doesn’t learn any more magic that she can use to undermine his authority.”

Snape scoffed, “She can do that just by opening her mouth.” He paused, toying with a bit of
bandage on his desk. “Would Umbridge listen to you, do you think? If you went to her
instead of Fudge.”

“Probably not, but it would unnerve her,” he smirked. “Harry, I think we can trust to do the
rest.”

“You mean, let her run amok?”

“I mean, we let Harry be Harry. Look at all the people she’s riled up along the years. If we
were to…encourage her to embrace her more rebellious nature, I think Umbridge might just
crack.”

“You want to psychologically torture Umbridge?” Snape drawled.

“I wouldn’t be doing anything. I will just be letting Harry know that she has my full support,
and remind Umbridge that though I do have some responsibility for her, I am not her parent
and therefore cannot really punish her.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “You really think that wise? Letting Potter run wild here?”

“I’m sure that yourself and the other staff who want Umbridge gone will be able to keep her
from actually getting expelled. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time she broke school rules,”
Lucius chuckled.

With a sigh, Snape reached for the whiskey he kept hidden in his desk and produced two
glasses, pushing the second towards Lucius. “To chaos.”

“To chaos,” Lucius said with a gleam in his eye as they clinked their glasses together.

----

The last person that Dolores Umbridge expected to see her in her classroom outside of
lessons was Lucius Malfoy. She knew him, of course. She knew that Fudge liked him and
that he was a great benefactor of many causes that the Ministry was involved in. She also
knew that Lucius’ son was dating Harry Potter.

She swallowed thickly as he strode over to her desk, “Mr-Mr Malfoy, what a surprise!”
“Oh, I was just visiting my son and thought I’d pop by. I was surprised that the Minister
elected the new hire at Hogwarts,” he smiled politely. “But then it always has been a difficult
post to fill. I’m actually curious as to why you would want it.”

Umbridge licked her lips nervously. “Oh, I’m always happy to help. Besides, moulding our
youth is such a wonderful career to have.”

Lucius hummed, unconvinced. “Yes, only you don’t have any educational background, or
indeed any experience in looking after children. In fact, the last thing I recall you doing was
that legislation around regulations for werewolves. Quite a leap. I commend you for taking
such a risk in career change.”

“Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss with me?”

Something shifted in Lucius’ eyes, a hardness that she wasn’t used to seeing in those pale
orbs during Ministry events. She had heard about Lucius’ protectiveness of his son, and more
recently of Harry. Her thoughts drifted to the Black Quill that lay in her office desk and the
five days of detention she had just given the girl.

“Education is important, Dolores, I’ve always believed in that. That’s why my son is in the
top tier of his year. Now normally I would have no issues with who gets hired here, unless
they endanger a student or cause them any harm,” he said coldly.

He tapped his cane against the stone floor once. “Listen carefully, because I’m only going to
say this once: if I find out that any harm has come to Harry Potter, I will destroy you. Not
only will you not work for the Ministry again, but I will make sure that your darling
Cornelius never so much as thinks about you ever again. You will become a footnote in his
life that he will eventually forget all about. I will personally see to it that every legislation
you’ve passed that Harry doesn’t approve of is reversed.”

“This I promise you because what you seem to have forgotten over the past week is that
whilst Harry might be a thorn in Fudge’s side, she is a Slytherin. She is more tenacious and
brilliant and beloved that you can ever be. And that if it is proven that You-Know-Who has
returned then your beloved Fudge will be grovelling at her feet for forgiveness, and will be
more than happy to discredit anyone that hurt her in his name,” he hissed. “Do I make myself
clear?”

Umbridge stared up in fear at the man, remembering the whispers that he was once a Death
Eater. That he had been a favourite of Voldemort. One of his most trusted followers. In this
moment, she believed that more than ever. “Yes,” she whispered.

Lucius broke out into a smile. “Good. Now I really must be going,” he said and then strode
out of the classroom.

He found Harry and Draco waiting for him not far from the classroom, eyeing him warily.
With a fond smile, he ruffled Harry’s hair and murmured: “Now, my girl, for the rest of the
term I want you to do everything in your power to run that woman out of Hogwarts.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “You’re giving me permission to torment a teacher?” Lucius nodded.
“Cool.”

Lucius chuckled then turned serious as he looked her dead in the eye. “But please, don’t kill
her.”

“What about maim or seriously injure?”

Lucius pondered that for a moment before nodding. “I can live with that.”

Harry’s eyes gleamed with mischief as Draco sighed wearily beside her. Lucius smirked. She
truly was her father’s daughter.
 According to Plan
Chapter Notes

Hi guys, sorry about the wait. Been busy with work and now we're back to Harry and
her plan to run Umbridge out of Hogwarts.

Harriet Potter could say with absolute certainty that there were three things she was
extremely good at. One was quidditch, two, surviving near-death experiences, and three,
getting into trouble. So to be given permission to cause trouble was an odd experience
indeed, particularly when it meant intending to harass a teacher. She knew she annoyed
Snape, for example, but she never really did things to outwardly annoy him. Granted, she did
fling him across a room before but that was because he was getting in the way. With
Umbridge though, she could do much worse with an arsenal of students, disgruntled
professors, and whatever creatures she could rally behind her.

She wasn’t entirely sure at first how she was going to get Hermione and Ron to help her,
particularly since they were now both Prefects. Then Umbridge deemed herself High
Inquisitor and suddenly Harry intentionally breaking the rules again didn’t seem that big of
an issue.

There was also the issue of the rest of the staff. Snape didn’t really care what she did, but the
more moral professors might have taken an issue with harassing a member of staff.
Harry knocked on McGonagall’s office door before popping her head around it with a grin.
“Hi, Professor, just to let you know I’m going to try and run Umbridge out of the school. So
if you could just pass that message along to the other teachers, that’d be great.”

McGonagall blinked. “You’re going to do what?”

“Well, if it helps she started it by making me use some sort of torture device during detention
so now I have a scar on my hand. I can’t promise she won’t come to any harm, but I will be
destroying her mental state and probably her career. Ok, thanks.” She then went to leave the
door when the professor called her name.

McGonagall let out a weary sigh, “Come in and shut the door. You had better start from the
beginning.”

And so it was that McGonagall agreed to turn a blind eye to anything that Harry Potter did
until Dolores Umbridge was promptly fired or left Hogwarts.

----

“I can’t believe you got McGonagall on board with this.”

Harry rolled her eyes, “McGonagall is far more formidable and respected at Hogwarts than
any other teacher here. Besides, she taught my parents. She knows what I’m capable of.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I know your true limits,” he drawled.

“Oh, I’m sure you know them better than most people,” she chuckled then leaned up for a
kiss. “One of these days I’ll show you just how bad I can be.”

“Good to know,” he grinned.

Harry leaned into the kiss and chuckled around his lips. She loved these moments. When they
just cuddled together in the common room, their homework strewn between them and
forgotten. These moments helped when she felt the prickling of anger in her mind, to just
nuzzle against Draco’s neck and breathe in his scent.

“So,” he said as he pulled away from her. “May I ask what exactly this plan of yours entails?”

“Nothing that doesn’t befit the name of Slytherin,” she smirked.

“That’s my girl.”

----

When Harry entered the Great Hall, she was met with a mix of reactions. Hermione gasped,
Ron blushed profusely and Pansy’s eye twitched furiously. That was to be expected though.
Her new uniform was a little risqué compared to her usual attire. Her tights were now
stockings with a lace garter holding them up her pale legs, and the skirt had been charmed to
appear shorter that it actually was. If a teacher did try and measure it, she would still be
within regulation and be appropriately dressed to the rest of the faculty. She wanted
Umbridge to comment on it, to try and prove to the other teachers that Harry was breaking
the rules again. Let them think Umbridge was crazy for a change. Some of the teachers pulled
a scandalous face as they caught sight of her before shooting a look to McGonagall who
simply shrugged her shoulders and returned her attention to the bowl of porridge in front of
her.

“I thought the idea was to torment Umbridge, not dear Draco,” Blaise drawled as she sat
beside him at the table.

“There’s no reason I can’t do both,” she smirked and grabbed herself a piece of toast. Blaise
laughed softly as he watched her hold her head high amongst the interested stares of the
Great Hall.

Draco didn’t in fact see the new uniform until they crossed paths on the way to Potions. It
took him one look at her uniform to pull her aside into an empty corridor, pinning her against
the wall with a groan. “Are you trying to drive me insane?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

With a deep breath, he leaned in for a heavy kiss. Harry sighed in contentment, hooking her
arms behind his neck as he took advantage of her open mouth to deepen the kiss. “Harry, be
nice. I’m only human,” he murmured as he parted their lips for breath.

Harry chuckled darkly, “Oh, but, baby, it’s so much more fun to tease you like this. Show you
what you can see but not touch.”

A glimmer flickered in his grey eyes for a moment. “Perhaps we need to change that.”

Before he could say anything else, a cluster of students appeared at the end of the corridor
and he quickly adjusted his trousers before leading her into the classroom.

----

Harry didn’t see Umbridge until Divination, noting the short pink woman standing with a
clipboard at the back of the classroom and pursing her lips at Harry’s uniform as she walked
into the classroom. “That uniform is not regulation, Miss Potter,” she tsked.

“I think you’ll find it is. I have a copy of the school’s by-laws with me in case you wanted to
check,” Harry muttered dryly as she got out her dream journal.

According to the Fred and George, Umbridge had been inspecting all the teachers’ lessons
looking for ways to improve the school. Harry took that to mean she was trying to find faults
in Dumbledore’s hiring. Whilst Trewlaney was quite clearly not a great a seer as her ancestor
had been, Harry had to admit that she had been right about that one in Third Year. It made her
wonder what that second prophecy Dumbledore had spoke about was.

“We shall be continuing our study of prophetic dreams today,” Trewlaney announced with a
voice that shook slightly under Umbridge’s gaze. Harry imagined she wasn’t used to being
put on the spot like this. “Divide into pairs, please, and interpret each other’s latest night-time
visions with the aid of the Oracle.”

Harry half-listened to the professors’ conversation as she made up dreams for Ron to
decipher that didn’t involve Cedric dying and Voldemort leering at her. She almost felt sorry
for Trewlaney. She was clearly trying her best to keep up appearances as the great-great-
granddaughter of a famous seer.

Trying to prove that to the likes of Umbridge though, appeared to be a lost cause as days later
Harry watched as Filch dump Trewlaney’s belongings at the professor’s feet as the students
watched from the side-lines of the courtyard. Tears streaked down her cheeks and her thick
glasses fogged up from the heat of them as she implored Umbridge that she couldn’t evict
her. Harry watched with a furrowed brow as McGonagall comforted the other woman, tyring
her best to hold her tongue at the same time. For Dumbledore to sweep in and out like that to
protect one of his staff, was something of a pleasure to watch but as she watched Dumbledore
walk away deaf to her calling his name, Harry couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
Perhaps he was too busy to listen to her, after all.

----

Not long after Trewlaney’s things were returned to the Astronomy Tower, Harry grabbed
Fred and George by their ties and pulled them both into a broom cupboard to their
bewilderment.

“Why, Harry, what would Draco say?” they teased as they turned slowly to face her.

“Oh, hush. I’m going to run Umbridge out of Hogwarts. Are you in?”

“Naturally,” they said in unison.

“Fabulous. Now, I know I can trust you to do your own brand of mischief without my
guidance but I will need your help in…procuring some items I might need.”

The twins exchanged a knowing look. “What kind of items?”

“Illegal items?”

Harry rolled her eyes and grinned, “No. I was thinking we should may homage to our
previous professors. So I will be needing pixies. Freshly caught Cornish pixies to be precise.”

-----

Voldemort inclined his head slightly as he listened to Lucius enter the room, and Naigini
hissed to him in greeting as the blonde man came to stand beside the Dark Lord. There was a
strange smile on the Dark Lord’s lips that unnerved Lucius greatly.

“You wished to see me, my lord?”

“I’ve been probing Harry’s mind lately and she feels…giddy. Why is that?”

Lucius pursed his lips. “Ah. She is working to run the newest Defence Agaisnt the Dark Arts
professor out of Hogwarts.”

Voldemort barked out a laugh that made Lucius jump. “Is she now? Why is that?”

“Umbridge was hired by the Minister as a way to spy on Harry and Dumbledore. Harry and
her have naturally clashed.”

Something coiled unpleasantly in Lucius’ gut as he noted the pleased look on his lord’s face.
“Well, I don’t like this professor’s chances. My girl is a formidable opponent if not a little
sentimental.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

A part of Lucius that he kept well-hidden during these encounters wanted to tell the other
man not to go near Harry, not to touch her body or her mind. To leave Harry and Draco to be
young and in love, but he knew that Voldemort cared little for Harry’s wellbeing. A sad and
angry Harry made it easier to manipulate her, to isolate her from the throng of people she
seemed to collect around her. The Weasley clan, and the muggleborns, and even the
professors that had protected her for so long. Lucius was not naïve. He knew what Harry was
capable of, she drew people in with love and a pair of bewitching green eyes just like
Voldemort had done with fear and twisted politics.
“And what of that other business?”

“It proves to be quite a difficult task without the owner, but we are working on it.”

Voldemort hummed in amusement. “Then we shall have to ensure that its owner is willing to
help us when the time comes.”

Lucius stilled at the implications of his words. His thoughts drifted to Draco who would be a
perfect candidate to use, but Hogwarts’ walls kept his son safe from being used as a pawn in
this particular game. Harry needed to leave Hogwarts with the blind panic and fury that
always prompted her most irrational plans. He thought of the only person Harry would be
frantic to save, someone who was the only thing Harry considered to be her family, and his
blood ran cold.
 Clandestine Meetings
Chapter Notes

Did I need a little smut to reward Draco for being a good boyfriend? Yes, yes I did.

It went without saying that Harry rarely made plans. Her plans were usually destroyed
halfway through due to the wrong person being at the end of whatever she was trying to foil.
So naturally, she deferred to the experts in these matters. Fred and George were only too
willing to help out with the procurement of freshly caught Cornish pixies that they unleashed
in Umbridge’s office after breakfast. The three of them listened with glee to the shrieks of the
professor as the pixies ripped books and broke the cat plates that decorated her office walls.
Then before Umbridge could emerge, the pair parted ways with a shake of the hands and a
satisfied grin plastered on all three faces.

However, for Harry that was only the beginning. Fred and George were free to wreak havoc
on their own with their selection of prototypes for their joke shop. Harry, on the other hand,
wanted to do something that haunted Umbridge for weeks to come. There was also the small
matter of Hermione pitching to Harry to become their secret Defence Against the Dark Arts
professor. It probably was a bit of a stroke to Harry’s ego but it worked nevertheless and
Harry found herself planning lessons in-between attacks against Umbridge. The thought
amused her greatly as she wandered away from Draco and towards The Hog’s Head with Ron
and Hermione to see what interest Hermione had strum up.

----

Harry sat in front of several students, some of whom she recognised, with her arms folded
and a scowl starting to deepen across her face the longer she listened to them. It seemed there
were mixed views on her authenticity of being able to perform such spells or indeed that
Voldemort was back.

A rather annoying Hufflepuff by the name of Zachariah Smith was earning his way into
getting slapped the more he talked. “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric
Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought his body back. He didn’t give us
the details. He didn’t tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered. I think we’d all like to
know-”

Harry shot him a scathing look. “You want me to tell you the details of how a kid died? What
kind of a sick fuck are you? Look, I’m not here to talk about Cedric Diggory, alright. So if
that’s what you’re here for, you might as well fuck off.”

“Is it true you can produce a Patronus?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, grateful for the change of topic.

“Blimey, I never knew that.”

The mood shifted instantly and suddenly everyone was talking about all the things Harry had
done in the past four years at Hogwarts. Her ego was sated by their awe at her
accomplishments, but a part of her still found it bizarre so many of them were willing to
break the rules to learn defence. Perhaps she wasn’t the only wildcard at Hogwarts, she
thought with a smile as Hermione produced a piece of parchment for them all to sign.

And so it was, that Dumbledore’s Army was formed on a cold winter’s day in the dingy light
of The Hog’s Head.

----

Harry’s mood had quickly soured as not only had quidditch practice been cancelled, but
Hedwig had been injured during her recent trip to Grimmauld Place. The only thing that kept
her spirits up was the thought of Sirius contacting her. The Slytherin common room was
usually empty after ten o’clock, and so made it perfectly easy for Harry to sit beside the
fireplace and talk to her godfather in the flames.

“So, what do you think?” she asked after he had explained that he already knew about the
secret Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

“Me? Oh, I think it’s brilliant,” he smirked. “D’you think your father and I would’ve lain
down and taken orders from an old had like Umbridge!”

Harry shrugged. Knowing what she did about her father, she didn’t think half the things she’d
done at school would have surprised him. They might have exasperated her mother though.
“Hold on. Last year you told me to lay low!”

“That was last year. Besides, I have no problems with you breaking school rules. I’d be a
right hypocrite if I did. What does that boyfriend of yours think?”

“He doesn’t know about the classes. But Lucius told me I have permission to do what I like
to her as long as I don’t kill her.”

Sirius chuckled, “Praise indeed. You just need a good enough space to do it and-”

Her godfather’s face changed suddenly and then he was gone, replaced by a familiar pudgy
hand grabbing at where Sirius’ head had been. The sight of which made Harry bolt to her
dormitory, her anger at Umbridge boiling away inside of her.

-----

The thought of not being able to speak to Sirius until Christmas grated at Harry’s nerves, as
did the fact that they had yet to find a place to hold their classes. She was itching to cast
something. A hex. A simple Patronus. Something to get her blood pumping and the magic
flowing through her once more. Simple charms and transfigurations just weren’t cutting it
whilst Umbridge had them writing essays on non-combative theories.
“You keep scowling, your face will stick like that,” Draco huffed as he flicked through the
Daily Prophet beside her.

“You would be too if you couldn’t even find a simple spare room in this castle.”

“What do you need a room for?”

“Something secret.”

“Something I won’t approve of, you mean?” he muttered dryly.

“No, you’d approve of it. you just can’t have anything to do with it,” she sighed.

Draco glanced at her then a smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She probably should have been less surprised by the sudden appearance of Dobby, waking
her from where she was snoozing on the common room sofa. “Merlin, Dobby, you need to
learn to knock or something,” she panted.

“Dobby is very sorry for startling you, Miss Potter, but I was told Miss Potter needed help
finding a room.” He then paused and shook his head rapidly. “Oh, but Dobby wasn’t
supposed to tell Harry Potter that. It was supposed to be a secret.”

Harry glanced at the house elf and smiled, “That’s quite alright, Dobby, I’m not mad. Now,
why don’t you tell me what you found?”

“Dobby knows the perfect place, miss!”

As she listened to Dobby tell her of the Room of Requirement, her thoughts were of Draco
and how she was going to repay him for helping her.

----

Dating a Prefect had its perks, Harry decided, including making use of the fifth floor
Prefect’s bathroom she had used that one time in Fourth Year. It didn’t take much to convince
Draco to have a midnight bathe together for the simple sake of being able to touch his
girlfriend’s wet body in nothing but a swimsuit. It was certainly a suitable reward for helping
her find the perfect classroom for her DA meetings. Draco went first, with Harry following
behind him at a discreet distance under the Invisibility Cloak with the Map safely tucked into
her back-pocket. She slipped into the bathroom a few moments after he entered, and was
instantly hit with the scent of lavender, removing the cloak and her clothes in the locker room
before coming out to the bath.

Draco sat on the edge of the bath, his long pale legs dangling in the water as it filled slowly
with bubbles. His gaze travelled along the length of her body, a hungry look took over his
eyes and dilated his pupils.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Harry chuckled, “You’ve seen me like this before.”

“That was different. It was cold and I had been underwater for an hour. I had bigger concerns
than what you looked like under your towel,” he smirked.

Harry rolled her eyes before stepping into the bath and settling on the carved-out bench that
ran along the bottom of the tub. “And now?”

“Now-” He moved in an instant, pinning her against the edge of the bath and pressing his
body against hers till a slight moan escaped her. “-I have you all to myself.”

The water sloshed against the sides of the bath as they came together, his lips capturing hers
in a forceful kiss. It felt like they hadn’t kissed like this in ages. Hadn’t touched each other
like this in ages. Harry distantly remembered their late-night fumbling at the Yule Ball, but
that was before graveyards and rumours and secret organisations. In this there was no
confusion or trauma, just Draco and Harry couldn’t help but sigh against his lips to have it
again.

Draco barely remembered her in the skin-tight green swimsuit she had worn during the
Second Task last year, but he longed to see what lay beneath it. Her breasts seemed bigger
against the wet material, or maybe that was just his imagination. She was soft and barely
wearing anything, moaning against him as he kissed her and she was perfect. She gasped at
the feeling of his hardness growing between them before a knowing grin spread across her
lips and he knew that if they did get caught, it would be worth it.

He slid his hands down to her hip and pressed them down against his own which he bucked
upward, earning him a pleasant groan in response. In the back of his mind, he remembered
the brief if awkward conversation he had with his father over the summer. Whilst his mother
had taught him to barricade his mind, his father had given him advice on the art of
lovemaking. And so, one hand made its way from her hip to her inner thigh, wiggling its way
past the material covering her until it made its way to hover over her mound.

“H-Harry, is this alright?” he struggled to ask. His father had drilled that into him. To ensure
her happiness at every point, that she felt safe with him.

Harry nodded with laboured breath, watching mesmerised as his fingers delved beneath the
swimsuit until he found the sensitive little nub hidden there. The back of his fingernail grazed
it and she cried out. He grinned before he began nuzzling her neck as he continued to stroke
her there. It was hard with the swimsuit on constricting his movements, but it was enough.
The pad of his thumb managed to squeeze its way in to rub circles around the nub, driving
Harry into a writhing, panting mess. Her back arched against the edge of the tub, her hips
rolling against his fingers until she was shuddering around them and calling out his name in a
dreamy whisper.

She lifted her head up moments later to look down at his hardness poking her still in the
stomach. “Do you want me too…?” She wasn’t entirely sure what she was offering him.
There was only so much information she could gather from Dudley’s magazines, and
Hermione was just as clueless as she was on the subject.

“No,” he smiled. “Don’t you worry about me, baby. Besides, I don’t think the house elves
would appreciate me jerking off in here.”
Harry laughed before pulling him into a tender kiss. “Alright, but don’t say I never offered.”

“One day I will be more than happy to take you up on it, but not tonight,” he smirked. “When
I have you, Harry, I want to make a fuss over you. Wine and dine you, the whole thing.”

“Such a gentleman,” she purred.

“A gentleman who is very aware that your godfather will have my arse if I screw up,” he
muttered dryly.

“And a very cute arse it is too,” she chuckled with a pinch to said arse.

----

“I think we need a code word,” she said suddenly, breaking them out of their post-orgasm
bliss.

Draco snorted, “A code word? What on earth for?”

“I know it sounds silly but…this war is gonna change us. It’s gonna pull at us. We might have
to do things that the other disapproves of sometimes whether that be giving me a detention
or… something far worse.”

Draco’s face softened and he cupped her face tenderly, “Harry, I-”

She moved so she could face him properly, her skin now glowing in the torchlight behind
them. “No, I mean it. I could do something that affects your father.” Draco winced at the
name. “You could do something that ends up hurting my friends. Unintentionally, but it’s still
a likely thing. So I want us to have a word that we can use to let the other know, we still love
each other. That it wasn’t personal. That this war didn’t break us.”

Draco avoided her gaze for a moment as he considered her words before he murmured:
“Hogsmeade. For our codeword, I mean.”

“I like it,” she said before leaning in for a kiss.

----

As Harry watched another proclamation be added to the wall outside the Great Hall, she held
Draco’s hand a little tighter. The small frames lining the wall were now in the double digits
and each time another was added, the students seemed just a little bit more forlorn. Gone
were the clubs, the quidditch practices, the music played in the common room, and even the
twins’ products were subject to Umbridge’s disdain.

“Hogsmeade,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she whispered back.

 Through Snakes' Eyes
Chapter Notes

Well, it's been a few weeks but I've finally got it out. Nightmares and thestrals this week,
enjoy!

Panting in the darkness of the bedroom, Voldemort glanced down at his own spend collected
in his hand after the rush of endorphins had worn off. It had been a long time since he’d
thought to consider such needs, but lately he found himself feeling a familiar stirring deep in
the pit of his stomach because of them. He knew his reincarnation had changed things for
him in that department. He no longer had that handsome face of a young man that his
followers would happily bed without a second thought. Now his appearance brought only
fear, and for most of the time that appealed to him. He knew why he was feeling this again, of
course. It was all to do with Harry Potter.

He remembered being fifteen quite clearly, and how fun it had been to experiment with
manipulating his classmates in a new way. With Harry though, it was becoming a distraction.
Things weren’t progressing as much as he wanted to them to. Lucius claimed he was doing
his best, but there were protocols in place regarding prophecies. Not just anyone could claim
them. Only its owner. Voldemort’s name wasn’t on the tag of the prophecy, only Harry’s in an
almost faded cursive. His thoughts drifted back to Harry as Nagini slithered around the base
of the bed.
If he could persuade Harry to get it for him, that would make things much easier. But Harry
was hot-headed and hard to predict most days. She only really sprung into action and made
rash decisions like breaking into the Department of Mysteries if somebody or something was
in danger. He recalled Lucius telling him of when his horcrux took Ginny Weasley to the
Chamber of Secrets which led to Harry breaking into it to retrieve the girl from his clutches.
He paused and a horrific smile spread across his lips.

His untarnished hand caressed Nagini’s head as he murmured: “Perhaps the time has come to
force our girl’s hand, my dear.”

The snake hissed eagerly, as a plan formed in her master’s mind.

----

Hagrid’s return to Hogwarts was perhaps the only thing that put a skip into Harry’s step, apart
from the obvious development in her and Draco’s relationship. The memory of the bathwater
and Draco’s hands put a glow to her cheeks as she walked to class, before she’d remember
what Hagrid had told her about the giants. The poor man still hadn’t been able to explain why
he looked like he’d been beaten to a pulp, but Harry hadn’t been able to see him before his
next class. Hagrid didn’t seem fazed by Umbridge in the slightest, but then Hagrid had been
groundskeeper at Hogwarts for so long now, he had probably seen a great manner of busy-
bodies try and change Hogwarts and fail. That’s what Harry kept telling herself anyway. She
half-dreaded Hagrid’s first class with Umbridge hovering on the edge of the class with her
clipboard and looking entirely out of place in the Forest.

“Thestrals!”

Everyone stared in confusion at the absence of any animal in the paddock before them. Harry
saw the creatures plain as day, just as she had when they embarked the carriages from
Hogsmeade.

“Hagrid, there’s nothing there,” Ron whispered to Hagrid.

Hagrid huffed, “Well, that’d be because you cannae see ‘em unless-”

“You’ve seen death,” Harry finished. She looked to Luna and smiled in sympathy. “You see
them too, huh?”

Luna nodded. “My mum. She was quite an extraordinary witch, but she did like to
experiment. And one day one of her spells went badly wrong. I was nine.”

“I’m sorry,” she heard herself saying.

Luna tilted her head in acknowledgement. “It was rather horrible. I do feel very sad about it
sometimes but I’ve got Dad.”

Harry approached the thestral and tentatively touched its skeletal head. “It can be kinda
lonely though, can’t it?” she whispered to Luna.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione hissed.

Rolling her eyes, Harry walked back over to Hermione and grabbed her hand. “Hermione, do
you trust me?”

“What? What’s that got to do with-”

“Just answer the question. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me prove this to you. You’re the smartest witch of your age. If you believe, others
will too. Or they’ll be quite content in the knowledge that they’ve never seen someone die.
Either way, it’s a win-win.” Harry then proceeded to pull Hermione over to the nearest
thestral and placed her hand on its head.

Hermione stilled. “There’s-there’s something there. But-?”

“There are more things on heaven and earth, Hermione, than our dreamt of in your books,”
she smirked as she walked away back to the cluster of students. “Luna? Help me out here,
would you?”
“Certainly, Harry,” she replied dreamily before taking Ron’s hand and leading him to a
thestral too.

Harry turned to face Draco and shot him a pointed look. “You too.”

Draco shifted uneasily before taking Harry’s hand, but before she could place it on the
thestral, he moved it first. His gaze flickered back to her. “I saw a car crash when I was six.
There was a woman in the car that looked like Mum. Father doesn’t think I remember it, but I
do.”

Harry placed her hand over his. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t tell the others that though. I never told anyone that story.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Draco flashed her a concerned look before she chuckled,
“Sorry. Muggle saying.”

“Bloody Muggles,” he huffed.

Then Harry’s heart sank at the sound of Umbridge’s voice piping up. “You are aware that the
Ministry has marked these creatures as ‘dangerous’.”

“They also use dementors, don’t see them having any qualms about using them though, do
they?” Harry muttered dryly.

Umbridge’s eyes narrowed. “I believe I was talking to Professor Hagrid, Miss Potter.”

She was distracted from deducting points from Slytherin by Hagrid snorting: “Thestrals ain’t
dangerous! Well, they can bite your hand off…”

Harry wanted to bury her head in her hands and yell at Hagrid to for once, realise that this
was a time to be tight-lipped. It would be useless anyway, as Umbridge looked as if she had
already made up her mind about Hagrid.

Harry met the thestral’s gaze and sighed, “You had to be a carnivore, didn’t you? You
couldn’t live off toadstools and sunflower seeds, could you?” The thestral snorted in
response. “Didn’t think so.”

----

Christmas seemed to appear at Hogwarts in a blink of an eye, with Hermione and Ron
disappearing to stop Peeves messing with the decorations and the ghosts singing carol along
the corridors. Yet somehow the Christmas spirit was lacking this year. Maybe it was the fact
that Dumbledore was still keeping to his office, pacing as usual, according to the Map. Or
maybe it was Umbridge’s presence that put a damper on the holidays. Harry couldn’t wait to
get back to Grimmauld Place and finally be back with Sirius. Officially, she’d be spending it
with the Weasley’s and Hermione back at the Burrow but she knew they wouldn’t begrudge
her visiting Sirius during those two weeks. Draco had offered, naturally, but he knew that
nothing could compete with Sirius -even if it meant enduring Mrs Weasley’s well-meaning
lectures again.
She wrapped up her final class of the term with Dumbledore’s Army, only to find Cho Chang
waiting behind for her. Harry had barely spoken to Cho since she’d come back with Cedric’s
corpse and had very little desire to do so now. According to Hermione, Cho could be found
crying most days in the bathroom but she’d managed not to cry during their lessons, for
which Harry was thankful. Not that she had anything against Cho, she just thought it’d be a
bit awkward what with Harry being the last person to see her boyfriend alive. ‘Was he even
her boyfriend?’ she wondered idly. She didn’t remember seeing them together much till the
Yule Ball and after that, well, she had her own problems going on.

“You doing ok there, Cho?” she asked as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just…learning this stud…makes me wonder whether…if he’d known it all…
he’d still be alive.”

‘For fucks’ sake’. A part of Harry, the overtired and nightmare-ridden part, wanted to tell her
she wasn’t in the mood to play grief counsellor right now. Harry held her tongue though.
“Er…He did know the stuff. He was really good at it otherwise he’d never have gotten as far
as he did. But Voldemort -you know- if he really wants to kill you, you don’t stand a chance.”

“You survived when you were a baby,” she said quietly.

Harry rubbed a hand along her face and sighed, “Think that had more to do with my mum
sacrificing herself, but whatever.”

“No! Don’t go!” she cried, sounding tearful again. “I didn’t mean to…”

Harry tried her best to keep her face neutral, not wanting to have Cho start crying again. Not
when there was no available Ravenclaw’s to pass her along to. It would nearly be dinner soon
too, and she hadn’t seen Draco in hours.

“I know it must be horrible for you,” she said as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Me
mentioning Cedric when you saw him die… I suppose you just to forget about it?”

Harry ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it slightly. “Look, Cho, you’re a nice girl but I’m
not sure what you want me to say here. I can’t tell you what he was thinking about in his final
moments. I can just tell you that it was quick. He probably didn’t feel a thing,” she said as
kindly as she could.

She didn’t expect Cho to kiss her before rushing off in tears. Harry stared at where Cho had
been standing in bewilderment and without another word, left the room. ‘What the fuck just
happened?’ she thought.

----

“Cho Chang kissed you?”

“Yes, Ron, she kissed me. On the lips. As she was crying.”

Ron stared at her in disbelief as she retold her tale for the third time that night as they
hovered outside the entrance to the dungeons. “I thought she liked Cedric?”
“She does. Apparently she likes me as well. Not that I can blame her, but it is a bit odd to
fancy the girl who saw your boyfriend get murdered. Cupid’s painted blind and all that I
guess,” she muttered dryly.

“But she was talking about Cedric before she kissed you? Isn’t that a little…”

Hermione glared over at Ron. “Ronald. Clearly Cho is going through a lot right now. She has
a lot of feelings she needs to address, which are none of our business. If she does fancy Harry
then that’s her business, but I don’t think we need to tell anyone outside of each other. That
means no telling your brothers or Dean and Seamus.”

Ron held his hands up in defence. “Fine. Fine. I’m just saying, her timing was a bit off.”

“What can I say? I look really good sweaty,” Harry chuckled. She didn’t even protest when
Hermione swatted at her arm before she made a hasty retreat to the Slytherin common room.

----

There was blood in her mouth as she lunged forward with each strike, crippling the man
before her. He was covered now in bite marks and his eyes were lit up with fear. Then she
noted the familiar red hair atop his head and her heart dropped. As Harry faded back into
consciousness, she heard a flurry of voice around her.

“Go wake Draco now!”

“She’s faking! Leave her be.”

“Pansy, I swear-!”

“Let’s carry her to the common room. He can’t come in the girl dorms. Quick, grab her
arms.”

“Harry!”

She blinked and she was standing in the common room, being supported upright by Daphne
and Millicent. A cold sheen of sweat clung to her body and had her pyjamas sticking to her
skin in a way that made her want to peel them off immediately. If only she could feel her
legs. Her scar burned hotly and a tear rolled down her cheeks from the pain.

Then she felt Draco’s cold hands cup her face and hold it to face him. “Harry, darling, what
happened?”

“Mr Weasley… attacked by a snake…Ministry,” she slurred.

Draco nodded. “We need to take her to Dumbledore.”

“Draco…?”

Glancing at her, the blonde sighed, “Look I may not exactly like the Weasleys but you do and
you’ll never forgive yourself if one of them gets hurt and you couldn’t save them. So we’re
going to Dumbledore.”

“You believe her?” Daphne asked hesitantly.

“We’re airing on the side of caution tonight, Greengrass,” he muttered before taking one of
Harry’s arms from the girls as Blaise took the other. “Thanks girls, we’ll take it from here.”

Harry was barely conscious as they went from Snape’s office to Dumbledore’s with the
black-haired professor looking back at her with disdain. She didn’t think he’d believe her, but
Draco had been insistent that he take her to Dumbledore and that was how they found
themselves standing in his office. Dumbledore was wearing a magnificently embroidered
purple and gold dressing gown over a snowy white nightshirt, sat behind his desk in a pool of
candlelight.

“How did you see this?” Dumbledore asked quietly. “From above or-?”

“No, no I was the snake.”

She watched as Dumbledore instructed the portraits of former headmasters to find Mr

Weasley. He did not look back at Harry once as he sent out alerts and messages. “Mr Zabini,
Mr Malfoy if you could please wake Professor McGonagall for me. The Weasley children
need to be informed.”

Blaise and Draco nodded and reluctantly left the office for their errand, leaving just Snape to
watch as Harry’s blood began to boil the longer Dumbledore ignored her. Her scar hurt again,
and she wished with all her might to force him to look at her. To wring his neck around till he
looked at her, acknowledged her. Told her everything he was keeping secret.

“Look at me!” she roared. Several of the glass cabinets around the room cracked instantly
and Fawkes bristled from the sudden outburst. Only then did Dumbledore turn to face her, his
eyes wary as he took in the anger that slowly faded from her face. If Harry had glanced to
one of the many glass cabinets, she would have seen the silhouette of a dark-haired man
beside her own cracked reflection.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she asked weakly: “What’s happening to me?”

Dumbledore said nothing, and Harry found herself feeling a little more convinced that she
was indeed going insane after all.
 Nightmare Before Christmas
Chapter Notes

This chapter brings you: one creepy nightmare, Draco being an expert gift-giver and
Sirius trying to be a good godfather - enjoy!

It wasn’t the first time that Harry had thought she was going insane. If she looked back to
Second Year, she could remember hearing voices and speaking to snakes on a near-daily
basis and being looked at like she was a budding psychopath. It may have been easier if she
was. According to the true crime documentaries she watched with Dudley, psychopaths
didn’t seem to care that much if people were scared of them. Harry, on the other hand, did
care. What’s more, she wanted Dumbledore to care if she was going insane, to do something
other than ask blunt questions and then disappear again.

But all that would have to wait as the door to the office opened and the Weasley’s entered
behind McGonagall. Harry dried her tears with the back of her sleeve and adjusted her
glasses. This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for herself.

----

As miserable as Grimmauld Place was, nothing soothed her overthinking mind as much as
seeing Sirius. Upon entering the house, her godfather enveloped her in a tight hug before he
began calling for Kreacher and asking if anyone wanted breakfast. In the commotion of the
Weasleys reunited under one roof, Harry found it quite easy to slip into the drawing room
with Sirius. She explained the dream in great detail, watching Sirius face closely for any
signs of fear. Sirius’ eyes widened slightly but he simply nodded, his lips set in a firm line.

“I feel like I’m going crazy, Sirius. There’s no way this is normal, right? Seeing an attack
through a snake?” Tears stung her eyes as she looked imploringly at her godfather for
answers. “Do you think I’m going insane?”

“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers.” A warm smile spread across his face and he cupped
her jawline, ensuring they were at eye level. “But can I tell you a secret? All the best people
are. I mean, I’m not exactly the poster boy for mental stability, am I?”

Harry frowned, “You were in Azkaban though.”

“Prisons come in different shapes and sizes, Bambi. Ironically, I’ve swapped one prison for
another but I really missed indoor plumbing,” he muttered dryly. “Shitting in the woods for
weeks on end doesn’t exactly improve ones’ mental health.”

A small laugh escaped Harry. “So I’m not really crazy then?”
“No, sweetheart, you’re not. But it’s frighteningly easy to convince someone they are.” Sirius
considered her for a moment before he murmured: “Come on, supper will be ready now. And
since you’re under my roof, regardless of what Molly says, you don’t have to eat your
vegetables.”

Harry forced a smile but it didn’t quite meet her eyes, as thoughts of Voldemort lingered in
her mind.

----

She considered the benefits of running away. They had visited Mr Weasley in hospital, once
the news had broken and an appropriate amount of time was given for them to do so. She
remembered Moody’s words clearly though. Dumbledore knew, and didn’t tell her. She
thought grimly about how she could be used as a weapon against the people she loved. One
day the anger inside of her could build and she’d snap, and it wouldn’t be glass cabinets that
would be damaged but the Order itself. She shuddered at the thought. The Order wasn’t safe
if Harry’s mind was being invaded every other day. More importantly Sirius wasn’t safe.
Death Eaters could appear at the door any minute and kill them all. She managed to get
halfway to the door of the bedroom with her trunk before Phineas Nigellus, former
headmaster and Sirius’ ancestor, caught her.

“Running away, I see,” he drawled.

The former-headmaster reminded Harry of those professors she would sometimes see an ITV
drama back in Privet Drive, with his pointed beard and the way he seemed to look down his
nose at passers-by. He was painted in Slytherin colours of green and silver, and yet he still
resembled Sirius with those same blue eyes and dark hair that Harry had seen on the portraits
of nearly every single family member of the house of Black.

Harry huffed, “I’m being possessed by a malignant bigot so unless you have another way of
keeping this lot safe, I’ll be on my way.”

Phineas stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Oh, I see. This is a noble act then? How
disappointing.”

“Did you want something? Or do you just plan to lecture me on the ethics of running away?”
she snapped.

“I would never lecture you on ethics, my dear. Especially not one in my own house, even if
we seem to disagree on politics. No, I have a message from Dumbledore,” he said in a bored
tone.

Harry’s head snapped up. “What is it?”

“Stay where you are.”

Harry stared in disbelief at the portrait. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Stay where I
am? That’s the message?!”
Phineas rolled his eyes. “What did you expect? War and Peace? Honestly, children nowadays.
So demanding.”

“Well, excuse me but that’s all anyone would tell me after I got attacked by dementors too!
Just stay put whilst the grown-ups sort it out. Nevermind the fact I’m the one being attacked
and possessed all the time. No, no, lets just keep her in the fucking dark!” she snarled.
“That’ll really help her state of mind.”

The former headmaster raised an eyebrow at her and drawled, “Has it not occurred to you,
that this sort of behaviour is exactly why they don’t tell you anything? That Dumbledore has
a plan, and would rather it not to be ruined by a hot-headed teenager who has the Dark Lord
invading her mind? That it would be beneficial to figure out what he wants with you before
Dumbledore tries to explain it all to you?”

Harry deflated a little and sniffed, “I guess. Wait. Voldemort has plans for me? What-what
kind of plans?”

Phineas shifted uneasily, but feigned ignorance as he sighed, “Did I say that? If you must
excuse me, I have other things to do over understanding adolescents.” With that, he slipped
out of his portrait and left Harry alone.

“Fucks’ sake,” Harry muttered. “Now I’m taking advice from a fucking portrait of a dead
guy.”

When she went to sleep that night, she noted that Phineas was back in his portrait watching
her. She imagined Dumbledore had ordered him to watch her, but a small part of her felt
comforted being watched over by someone who cared very little if she was being possessed
or not.

----

Harry awoke to the feeling of someone caressing her thigh and in the darkness of Grimmauld
Place, she still managed to make out the red eyes of Voldemort. She bolted upright in bed
only for his hand to clasp down over her mouth, smothering her scream. She panted against
his hand as she took him in. He didn’t look like he did in the graveyard, but rather how he
must have looked as a young man. The man who became the Dark Lord. His dark hair fell
down just shy of his shoulders and he wore a black shirt that was had the first top buttons
undone to reveal a pale chest. It was hard for her not to see why people might have fallen for
his charms, but those eyes of his sent shivers down her spine.

“Now I’m going to remove my hand and you’re going to stay silent or I’ll have them all
killed,” he whispered. “Nod if you understand.”

She nodded rapidly. His hand moved from her mouth to trace the lines of her scar, making
her hiss with pain at his touch. He was so close, she could feel his breath against her skin.
Warm and with a whiff of brimstone that she remembered from the graveyard. It made her
shudder against him as his hand then fell down to ghost over the length of her body. He
slowly unbuttoned her pyjama top, revealing her bare skin to his red eyes. She had an urge to
cover herself, but she knew she’d be punished if she dared try. A lone finger traced the
circumference of a nipple till it stood to a point, his gaze never once leaving hers as he did so
even as he moved to do the same to the other.

“So beautiful. So innocent. To think you would allow another to touch you like this. Never
forget, Harry Potter, you are mine,” he purred before leaning down as if to kiss her.

“Harry! Come on, it’s Christmas Day!”

Harry’s eyes opened to the sight of Ginny opening the door, still dressed in her pyjamas.
Ginny disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Harry to pull herself from the last
dredges of sleep. Putting her glasses on, she glanced around the room nervously, trying to
convince herself that Voldemort had indeed not been there. Her pyjamas were lightly soaked
with sweat, but hadn’t been removed. There were the sounds of the usual chaos going on
downstairs with Mrs Weasley shouting at Fred and George to wait till Harry was down. Harry
sighed in relief and pulled back the duvet, raking a hand through her hair as she tried to pull
herself together.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” Phineas asked suddenly.

Harry glanced at the portrait and sighed, “Yes. You’re going to tell Dumbledore, aren’t you?”

“I won’t tell him anything he doesn’t necessarily need to know,” he said with a conspiratorial
smile.

“Thank you.” She paused as she opened the door. “Headmaster.”

Phineas seemed mildly surprised at her words, but nodded in acknowledgment. Harry
followed Hermione downstairs, but the feeling of Voldemort’s touch still lingered against her
skin.

Thankfully, the house had an instantaneous different mood to it than it had during the
summer and Harry found it easy to forget her nightmare. A house full of people, and thrown-
together Christmas decorations had cheered Sirius up greatly, especially the presence of
Harry. He walked around the house wearing a maroon robe over his suit and a Santa hat.
Harry had never seen him so happy, and it made her heart swell with joy that just something
as small as a full house at Christmas made her godfather seem his normal self.

As she sat beside Sirius opening her presents, Kreacher appeared suddenly, scowling as he
carried in a green box which he deposited in front of Harry. “I’m going to hazard a guess and
say its from Draco,” she muttered dryly as the house-elf disappeared, muttering under its
breath again.

“Do you know anyone else who wraps things with silver ribbon?” Sirius smirked. “Go on
then, open it.”

Her fingers hovered over the ribbon for a moment. “You’re sure they don’t know where we
are?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Bambi, your boy isn’t stupid. He gave it to Dobby who gave it to
Kreacher when he delivered your other gifts.”

Harry shrugged and unwrapped the box greedily, beaming with delight at the sight amongst
layers of tissue paper and bubble-wrap. Draco’s presents never disappointed, but Harry still
couldn’t help but admire the glass stag he had bought her. It glowed softly, just like her
Patronus did, a white ethereal light floating inside the glass. The card with the Malfoy crest
nestled amongst the bubble-wrap and tissue paper confines read: ‘I hope this helps keep the
nightmares away. Merry Christmas, Harry. All my love, Draco x’.

“He must really love you, mustn’t he?” Sirius said idly as he examined the stag for himself.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted with a blush as she placed it back into the box. “He really does.”

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk about that sort of thing, have we? Boys, I mean. You
are…” He shifted uneasily for a moment. “You are being safe, aren’t you?”

Harry glanced around the room, hoping nobody was listening too closely. “I mean, people
keep trying to kill me but yeah, we’re ‘being safe’,” she muttered dryly.

Sirius rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair fondly. “Come on, I have to ask these things. Would
you rather Vernon do it?”

Harry snorted. She didn’t want to tell Sirius that Vernon didn’t care what she did as long as
she was out the house and out of his sight. “Nah, I mean I don’t really talk about that stuff
with them. And Draco…well, everything’s good on that front so far.”

“Good to know. Now, do you want another butterbeer?” Sirius grinned, ignoring the
reproachful glare of Mrs Weasley for endorsing underage drinking. “Oh, come on, Molls! It’s
Christmas!”

Harry laughed as she watched Sirius pout at Mrs Weasley, wondering if her own mum would
be like that if she was still alive. She glanced around the room and found herself re-imagining
it to be filled with Potters instead of Weasleys. It was a nice image and it made her heart
clench just a little bit more than this day normally did.
 Mind Games
Chapter Notes

And we've got Sirius being overprotective, occlumency lessons and Draco being a good
bf as always.

Also, points if you get the Godfather reference!

It was times like these that Harry wished she could conjure up popcorn as she sat watching
Severus Snape and Sirius Black glare at each other across the kitchen table. However, she
didn’t think that popcorn was high on Kreacher’s shopping list and so found herself sitting
smugly between the pair popcorn-less. That Snape was even in Sirius’ house was strange
enough, considering the last time the pair had seen each other Snape had tried to get Sirius
executed for a crime he didn’t commit. Yet here they were, on Dumbledore’s orders.

“Dumbledore believes that because of your…connection to the Dark Lord, that you should be
taught occlumency,” Snape eventually explained.

“What’s that?”

Snape rolled his eyes and sniffed, “Occlumency, Potter. The magical defence of the mind
against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one. You will
receive private lessons once a week. You will not tell anybody what you are doing -especially
not Umbridge. Is that understood?”

“What, so he wants me to sneak into his office once a week for these lessons? I mean, its
doable but I’m not sure I’d really have much of an explanation for it if Umbridge catches
me...”

“Your lessons wouldn’t be with the headmaster. They’ll be with me.”

“Fuck off.” Harry expected Sirius to admonish her for swearing at a teacher, but her
godfather merely barked out a laugh. “You’re telling me out of the entire staff you are the
only one who knows how to do it?” she continued with a huff.

“It is the headmaster’s privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks. I assure you, I did not beg
for the job.”

Harry snorted, “Yeah, unlike the Defence Against the Dark Arts post.”

Snape’s sneer became more pronounced. “I will expect you at six o’clock on Monday
evening, Potter. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you
in my classes could deny you need them.”
Harry turned to Sirius and muttered dryly, “Just so we’re clear my professor is a dick who
takes out his issues with Dad against my grades.”

“I know, Bambi,” Sirius cooed. “If you had a half-way decent teacher, you would be a natural
just like your mum.”

Snape seemed to flinch as he strode away, but recovered quickly. “Wait a moment,” Sirius
demanded as he sat straighter in his chair.

“I am in rather a hurry, Black.”

Sirius stood up instantly and it was only then that Harry noticed that Sirius had an inch or two
against Snape. His eyes were locked onto Snape who gripped his wand instantly. “If I hear
you’re using these lessons to give Harry a hard time, you’ll have me to answer to.”

“How touching,” Snape sneered. “But surely you have noticed that Potter is very much like
her father?”

“Yes, I have,” Sirius said proudly.

“Well then, you’ll know she’s so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off of her.”

Sirius had him against the wall, held up by his robes in an instant. “You listen to me,
Snivellus. She is not yours to torment just because James was a dick to you back then. You
hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Black. But tell me, what possible threat are you to me when you cannot
even leave your own house?” Snape sneered.

“I’m not the only member of my house who cares for Harry’s wellbeing,” Sirius hissed. “You
remember that, because whilst I may not be able to do much right now there is someone
outside here who can.”

Snape’s eyes widened slightly. “You wouldn’t be that foolish.”

A wild look crossed Sirius’ face as he growled, “I escaped Azkaban and evaded every Auror
and dementor hunting me for her. You just fucking try me.”

Harry was immensely impressed by Sirius’ protective streak. It made her wonder what her
father would have been like had he been alive in this moment. Her train of thought was
interrupted however, by the arrival of the Weasley clan coming through the front door. They
stared in bewilderment at the sight before them of Snape and Sirius glaring at each other,
Snape pinned to the wall whilst Harry watched in amusement.

“What’s going on here?” Mr Weasley said uneasily.

Sirius removed himself from Snape, the latter fixing his robes immediately. Each wore an
expression of utter contempt, before Snape swept past the Weasleys and out the door without
a second look.
“What the hell was that all about?” Mrs Weasley demanded.

Sirius pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one. “Never ask me
about my business, Molly,” he said with a shrug, taking one drag of nicotine before Molly
snatched it off of him.

“Dumbledore wants me taking Occlumency lessons,” Harry answered coolly. She watched as
the rest of the Weasleys and assorted Order members gathered around the table. “You know,
because of the whole Voldemort can read my mind thing.”

Everyone stilled. Harry, however, was unperturbed. “So, can I just ask…whose genius idea
was it to not tell me that Voldemort might now be able to read my mind?”

“Well, Dumbledore thought…” Mrs Weasley began weakly.

“Don’t tell me Dumbledore thought I’d be better off not knowing because we all know that’s
bullshit. Letting a fifteen-year-old think she’s crazy. Yeah. That’s top-notch pastoral care right
there.”

Sirius snorted, trying to hold back his laughter as the others shot him pointed looks from
down the table. Harry quite enjoyed having Sirius on her side though, even if he wasn’t
voicing his opinion this time.

“Harry,” Remus sighed wearily. “We all know what Voldemort is capable of. He is a master at
Occlumency, and we were worried that you-”

“Would what? Be converted? Join the man who murdered my parents and sends me fucked
up dreams every other day?” she huffed. “Yeah, see, he tried the whole ‘join the dark side, we
have cookies’ thing in First Year and it didn’t work.”

“You have more to lose this time,” Remus murmured softly, his gaze flickering to Sirius.

She thought back to the graveyard, to the frightened men in black that were his followers.
She remembered his gesturing and the look in his eye as he tried to kill her. “So does he,” she
replied with a pointed look.

----

Harry was happy returning to Hogwarts, mostly because it meant seeing Draco again who
instantly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her tenderly. She sighed in his arms,
content to be in them again after two weeks.

“Am I allowed to ask how Snuffles is, or will you have to kill me?” he chuckled as they
embraced in the middle of the common room.

“He’s fine. Us being home for Christmas I think really helped with the cabin fever.”

“That’s good. Well, hopefully we can sort his case out and he won’t be a fugitive anymore.”
Harry kissed their combined hands. “I hope so too. You know, something did occur to me
though whilst I was away?”

“That sounds ominous,” he frowned.

“No. Well…I might need you to cosy up to Umbridge.”

“For fucks’ sake, why?”

“So I know what she’s up to. I’m not asking forever, just for a little while till I can get rid of
her. You can still have your politics and your secrets, but I just want to make sure I have
someone on the inside.” Umbridge had no reason to suspect Draco after all. Draco was a
well-behaved student with good grades and was well-respected by his Slytherin peers. He
was exactly the kind of person Umbridge wanted to be on her side. Unfortunately for
Umbridge though, Harry already had Draco's heart as much as he did hers. Although, it did
help when she asked him nicely to spy for her.

“Please,” she pouted.

“Fine.” The pair then kissed, earning them a reaction from the rest of the common room.
“Shut up!”

The next day Umbridge announced her Inquisitorial Squad, and Harry felt entirely too smug
as she saw Draco return to the common room sporting the badge. She didn't care if everyone
gave them odd looks as she held his hand with a knowing grin on her face.

----

Snape’s dungeon wasn’t a place that Harry would ever choose to go voluntarily. There was an
eeriness about it, but that might have just been Snape’s presence. She eyed the various jars
and bottles that lined the bookshelves warily, her lip curling up in disgust at the sight of slimy
bits of animals and plants shoved inside of them. Snape had her sat in a chair in the middle of
the room facing his desk, her hands gripping the seat nervously as she stared down the
Potions Master.

“It would seem that the curse that failed to kill you has forged some kind of connection
between you and the Dark Lord. When you sleep, you are sharing the Dark Lord’s thoughts
and emotions. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue."

Snape then stood from behind his desk and plucked his wand from his robes, aiming it at her.
“I am about to attempt to break into your mind,” he said softly. “We need to see how well you
resist. I have been told that you already shown an aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse.
You will find you need similar resistance now. Brace yourself. Legilemus!”

The memories swum around Harry’s mind and she struggled to stop them. The stinging
sensation from the first time Uncle Vernon slapped her for dropping a plate she was washing.
The Sorting Hat whispering in her ear about how good she’d be in Slytherin. Hermione’s
petrified form on the hospital bed staring up at her with blank eyes. The glow of her Patronus
spreading across the lake and repelling the dementors away from Sirius. Draco’s face as he
told her he loved her…

“Fuck off!”

Snape’s office swam into view and she saw him rubbing his wrist where a angry weal had
developed suddenly. Harry was no longer in the chair but had crumbled to the floor, on her
hands and knees. “Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?” he asked coolly.

“No.”

“I thought not. You lost control too easily.”

“Oh, really? That’s never happened before,” she muttered dryly as she returned to her seat.

Snape sniffed and raised his wand again. “Let’s try this again. Clear your mind of emotions.
Legilimus!”

The spell hit her again and her hands found themselves tugging at her black hair in her
attempts to keep the memories at bay. Dementors surrounding her and Sirius’ unconscious
body. Cedric Diggory’s corpse staring up at her.

“You’re still not listening,” Snape drawled. “Only weak-hearted people keep their hearts on
their sleeves.

“I am not weak,” she snarled.

“Then prove it. Control your mind.”

Harry didn’t want to control her mind. She felt the anger unfurl inside of her, wanting to snap
Snape’s neck just so he’d shut up and leave her alone. She let out a roar as the memories
came hurtling back towards her until she found herself looking at that black door from the
Ministry, and a realisation struck her more than the spell did.

----

Harry returned to the common room feeling drained, as if she had just completed the
Triwizard Tournament all over again. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, noting
the way she looked even paler than usual and her scar seemed more pronounced against it. It
was almost worth it. She had been able to figure out what that black door was, but Snape had
been elusive on what was behind it. She wondered if it had anything to do with where Mr
Weasley had been found when he was attacked, patrolling something that the Order clearly
deemed valuable.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Draco said as he strode over
to her. “Blaise said something about you needing Remedial Potions or something.”

Harry sighed, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “Yeah. Gotta boost my grades
somehow, huh?” she chuckled softly.
“Would have thought you’d rather me tutor you than go to Snape…” He paused as he pulled
away from her to examine her face more closely. “Baby, are you ok? You don’t look too
good.”

“I’m fine, baby,” she lied. “Just a little tired is all.”

She made it two steps before it hit her. incredible pain coursed through her, forcing her to her
knees as one hand came up to grasp at her scar. Maniacal laughter rang through his mind as
she instantly felt his mind against her own. The happiest he had been in a very long time. The
Dark Mark rising against forearms as a storm raged overhead. What a wonderful, wonderful
thing to have happened.

“Harry? Harry!”

Harry took in a deep breath as the pain disappeared, allowing her to regain her senses. Draco
was on his knees beside her, shaking her by the shoulders with a panic-stricken look in his
eyes. “What happened?” he demanded.

“I…dunno…” she gasped. “He’s…happy. Happiest he’s been in years. Something good is
going to happen. Something he’s been waiting for.”

The words sounded foreign to her, as if they were coming out of a stranger’s mouth instead of
her own. Draco didn’t say anything, but pulled her to her feet and helped her back to her
dormitory. As Harry stumbled in step with him, she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that
washed over her as she wondered what it was that had made Lord Voldemort so happy.

----

The Daily Prophet was pushed towards her at the breakfast table. She glanced at Draco,
finding him wearing an unreadable look. “I think I know why he’s happy.”

She looked down at the headline and balked. ‘Mass Breakout from Azkaban. Ministry Fears
Black Is “Rallying Point” For Old Death Eaters’. There were nine wizards’ photographs put
into a table along with one witch’s, all with a caption of their name and the crime for which
they were sentenced to Azkaban. She recognised some of the names from Karkaroff’s trial,
but then her eyes landed on the lone witch in their number. Her dark hair was unkempt,
hanging matted down her shoulders as she glared at the camera through heavily lidded eyes
that seemed to have an almost hollow appearance to them. Like Sirius, she remained
something of a beauty or at least gave the illusion that she had been one before Azkaban had
striped her of most of her natural allure.

“That’s…Oh.” Her voice trailed off as she realised why Draco was acting differently.

“I don’t know how Mother will take the news,” he admitted softly.

Harry thought back to that talk she had with Narcissa last year, and wondered how was
someone supposed to react when your sister breaks out of prison after fourteen years. Sirius
had only been inside for twelve years, and he was still recovering from the ordeal. She had no
idea what someone who was guilty of their crimes would be like once they got out.
“What do you know about her?”

“Not much. Mother doesn’t like to talk about her. I don’t think-I don’t think she hates her, not
really, but I can’t see her being happy about this either.”

Harry looked down at Bellatrix screaming back at her and couldn’t help but agree. With a soft
sigh, she grabbed his hand tightly. “We’ll get through this,” she whispered. “I promise.”
Draco nodded and squeezed her hand back. Harry glanced down the table and saw similar
uncomfortable looks from other Slytherins. ‘I hope you’re enjoying this, you little shit’, she
thought and hoped that Voldemort could hear her.
 To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Chapter Notes

Insomniac Harry this chapter with a little bit of smut at the end ;)

Sleep had eluded Harry ever since that first Occlumency lesson. Every time she closed her
eyes, she saw Voldemort or at least a version of him throughout his life. For the most part, he
appeared to her as his ‘Tom Riddle’, the young man who still resembled a human on his rise
to fame. He would appear as fifteen-year-old Tom in his Slytherin robes, or slightly older in a
cheap suit with shoulder-length hair, or in his late-twenties with his hair tied back with a
black ribbon as she had seen Lucius Malfoy do. It didn’t matter what age he appeared as,
each dream was more or less the same. She barely flinched as she saw him, in his black three-
piece suit, standing on the edge of the Black Lake. He outstretched his hand as she stumbled
out of the Forest onto the sand bank.

“Join me, Harry. Join me and we will rule the Wizarding World together,” he drawled.

“Never!”

“Very well then.”

The air went cold and Harry saw her breath come out of her like a billow of smoke. The
surface of the lake crackled as it iced over as the dark spectres moved closer to them. She
blinked and there were hundreds of them looming above Voldemort, but he paid them no
heed.

“No, Tom, don’t-!”

Voldemort paid her no mind and with a sweep of his hand, the dementors swarmed at her. She
tried to avoid them, to reach Voldemort but she was intercepted by an endless drove of
dementors who began to suck at her soul. It left her feeling as drained as it did the last time,
her legs stumbling to the ground in her effort to get away.

“Expecto-Expecto Patronum!”

“Harry!”

She sucked in a deep breath as she awoke on the floor of McGonagall’s classroom, Draco
hovering over her. A flicker of white caught the corner of her eye and she looked up to see
her Patronus rearing on its hind legs in front. The brilliant light almost blinded her, but she
instantly felt at ease at the sight of it. Its ethereal eyes made a small part of her think that it
was as if her father was watching her, ready to protect her from Voldemort once again.
“It’s ok. I’m ok,” she panted. “Go back now.”

The stag tilted its head for a moment before it nodded and disappeared. McGonagall soon
took the space that the stag had been standing in, kneeling down in front of her to asses any
damage.

“Miss Potter, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, sorry, Professor. Just a nightmare,” she said with a shaky breath.

McGonagall didn’t look convinced. “Miss Potter, you were having a seizure. Mr Malfoy,
please escort Miss Potter to the Hospital Wing. See if Madame Pomfrey can give you
something.”

Draco nodded, and helped her to her feet instantly. “What was that?” he whispered once the
classroom door was shut behind them.

“Nothing. I told you, it was a nightmare.”

Draco scowled, “It was him, wasn’t it?”

Harry stilled. “Yeah… It wasn’t like a vision or anything. He just…”

“Likes messing with your head,” Draco finished for her. “I don’t know how I feel about
another guy making you dream of him.”

Harry scoffed, “He’s old enough to be my grandfather and looks like an extra from The
Hunger Games. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“What’s The Hunger Games?”

“Muggle thing. Sometimes I forget you’re not as cultural as I am,” she muttered dryly.

Draco frowned, “I can just as easily drop you, you know.”

“Drop me, and your father will be hearing about it.”

The pair exchanged a chuckle and continued the walk to the Hospital Wing. Madame
Pomfrey examined her, but found nothing particularly wrong besides not enough sleep. She
prescribed her with a sleeping draught just as Umbridge entered the Hospital Wing. Draco
covered Harry’s hand with his and squeezed tightly, but said nothing.

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at the other woman as she approached. “Do you need
something, Professor? I didn’t realise class was over yet.”

“Not at all, I simply heard that Miss Potter was sent to the Hospital Wing and came to check
on her.”

Harry rolled her eyes. “Still here, I’m afraid,” she muttered dryly. “But sweet of you to come
assess the damage.”
Umbridge smiled tightly, “I was told you fainted, Potter. Anything I should be worried
about?”

Madame Pomfrey huffed, “She’s merely having issues with insomnia. Nothing too serious?”

“Now, what could possibly be stopping you from sleeping properly?”

Harry shrugged lightly and pocketed the sleeping draught. “Oh, I don’t know. The whole
watching a kid get killed might have something to do with it. But hey, what do I know? It
could be stress over exams.” She stood up from the bed and took Draco’s hand. “Now, if
you’ll excuse me, Professor, but I must be getting to my next class.”

Without another word, Harry strode out of the Hospital Wing with Draco at her side. Draco
smirked proudly at her the entire walk down to Potions.

----

The sleeping draught did nothing to help Harry to ‘clear her mind’ as Snape had instructed
her to do before bed. If anything, it clouded her mind more until she was standing in front of
the Mirror of Erised again. Instead of her parents looking back at her though, she saw
Voldemort. She saw Tom Riddle in his black suit, but it was his eyes that unnerved her. not
just because she knew who he was, but because they promised nothing but sinister and
twisted desires and they were trained solely on her. she moved to step back when his hand
shout out from the mirror and grasped around her neck.

“Did you think you could easily erase me? I’m part of you,” he said mockingly.

Harry spluttered awake, gasping for air. She glanced at the sleeping draught bottle at her
bedside and quickly shoved it into a drawer. Running a hand through her hair, she realised
that nothing would keep Voldemort out of her head but the occlumency. Which meant she’d
have to keep up the lessons with Snape. She fell back onto her pillow in frustration.

-----

“The lessons are going well though, right?” Hermione asked after Harry told her and Ron
about her latest dream. They were sat in the Library, supposedly doing homework, but as
most of their study sessions did these days, it became an update on Harry’s sleeping pattern.

Harry shrugged. “I’m not sure if we can describe an evening of reliving painful memories
over and over again as ‘well’.”

“Well, I have thought of something that might cheer you up.”

“That better mean a way to piss of Umbridge,” she huffed.

Hermione nodded with a cunning grin, “How would you feel about giving an interview about
what happened last year?”

“To who?” Ron snorted. “There’s no way the Prophet would run it.”
“Rita Skeeter.”

“Fuck off!”

Nearby students turned their heads to look at Harry. Hermione smiled nervously, and
whispered: “Harry, it’s perfect. We get her to write an article exposing the truth about what
happened. You give her all the details. What Voldemort looks like now, the Death Eaters you
saw there-”

“No.”

“But Harry-”

Harry leaned forward and hissed, “Hermione, I love you but I am not telling Rita Skeeter that
I saw my boyfriend’s dad there that night. Also, some of the Death Eaters are actually the
fathers of my housemates, or had you forgot about that?”

Hermione deflated. Ron patted her shoulder comfortingly, “If Harry wasn’t in Slytherin, or
dating Malfoy, it’d probably work.”

“Yeah… but if you want to force some of those fuckers into confessing, that I can get
behind,” Harry smirked. Ron and Hermione shared a worrying look as Harry thought of it.

----

The Quibbler appeared in front of Harry one morning, her interview with Rita Skeeter as the
headline piece. There were no mention of Death Eaters that had children at Hogwarts, Harry
claimed that most of them wore masks during the graveyard resurrection. It saw in explicit
detail what happened that night, including Cedric’s death and her attempts to tell the
Wizarding World being thwarted by the Ministry. She spoke eloquently on supposed
corruption within the Ministry and how the Minister had blackballed both her and
Dumbledore for trying to speak out. It was, in Harry’s mind, the best piece of journalism Rita
Skeeter could ever hope to produce.

Letters came pouring in response to Harry’s interview, and despite Umbridge banning the
publication, Luna informed her that within days her father was issuing a reprint. Somehow it
seemed worth the detentions Umbridge had promised her. It made her feel smug as she saw
more people acknowledge her kindly, even some Slytherins who seemed relieved that their
fathers weren’t mentioned. That had been her only condition with doing the interview. She
would only name those who had already been convicted for it, or had no children. It took
Hermione a good afternoon to find out all the relevant information before setting up the
meeting with Rita in the Three Broomsticks.

Yet Draco made no comment on it, and Harry was beginning to wonder if he had even read it
or was he too scared to see his father’s name in print. Then two days after the Quibbler had
made its way into the hands of every young witch and wizard at Hogwarts, Draco sat beside
her at the breakfast table.

“You didn’t mention Father,” he said quietly.

“I couldn’t,” she admitted softly.

“You didn’t name any of the others’ parents either.”

Harry shrugged. “Must have slipped my mind. Traumatic events can alter one’s memory, you
know?”

Draco hummed before he captured her hand and kissed it. “Hogsemede.”

A smile broke out over Harry’s face. “Hogsmede.”

-----

Harry found that the Wednesdays when Draco was on patrol were her favourite classes.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that if Draco saw a group of students walking
back to their common rooms, he wouldn’t say anything. More likely, it had to do with the fact
that Harry could use it as the excuse of ‘distracting’ him to get her hands on him without any
prying eyes. She might not be able to keep Voldemort out of her head, or get rid of Umbridge
just yet, but she could do this. It took only a quick glance at the Map to see that Draco was
alone, and that Filch and
Umbridge were nowhere to be seen. After slipping out of the Room of Requirement, she
made her way to the corner of the corridor where Draco was leaning idly against the wall.

“Hey, handsome, make any First Year’s cry today?” she drawled.

A smile crept across his lips as he turned to face her. “Not yet, but it’s only 4:30.”

“How’s patrolling going?”

“Dull,” he huffed.

“I think I might know something to make the time go a bit faster,” she purred.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but followed her into the nearest broom cupboard, uncaring of the
sound of a door opening down the hall. “What are you up to, Miss Potter? You know, I can
put you in detention if I wanted to?”

“Promises. Promises,” she sighed as he shut the door behind them. “Lock the door.”

Draco smirked, locking the door and putting the single bulb light on above their heads. “Just
what do you have in mind, Miss Potter?”

“This.” She was on him within seconds, her lips crushed against his and her hands raking
through his blonde hair. Draco groaned, spinning them till her back was against the stone
wall of the cupboard.

It wasn’t long until he was reaching for the buttons of her shirt. “This uniform’s been driving
me crazy,” he whispered against her ear. He popped open the buttons, revealing the lacey
white bra Harry wore underneath. “Merlin, woman, the things you do to me.”
Harry giggled as they parted for air, their breath merging together in the enclosed space. “I
want to try something.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Without a second thought, Harry spun them around so Draco had his back to the wall and she
then slowly sunk to her knees. “Like this.”

Realisation crept across Draco’s face and a sly grin pulled at his lips. “Never thought I’d see
the great Harry Potter on her knees,” he teased.

“You’ve been waiting five years to use that line, haven’t you?” she huffed.

Draco shrugged. “More or less.”

“You’re such an ass,” she chuckled.

“You love me. Now shut up, and suck my dick.” Draco’s erection now pressed against the
confines of his trousers, which he released by unzipping and pushing his underwear down to
reveal his length to Harry.

Harry rolled her eyes before returning to the task at hand. She had read about this before, of
course. Had made a cursory glance over Dudley’s magazines she hid for him, even sneaking a
read of one of Aunt Petunia’s dirty books she hid under her pillow. She had the gist of what
she should be doing, but it felt strange to see it in person. Hesitantly, she placed a kiss to the
head and listened to Draco gasp at the sensation. ‘Fuck this shit’, she thought and then
opened her mouth to gulf his tip.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

Encouraged by his moans, she began to suck softly, concentrating on her breathing as she did
so. Her jaw ached a little the longer she continued, but the hand in her hair kept her steady.
She looked up to see Draco staring down at her, his pupils almost black with desire. Her hand
reached up and she began to fondle his balls, entranced by the way he was looking at her, as
if she was the most wonderful woman in the world.

Eventually his breathing hitched and she felt his come spill out of him and into her mouth,
which she swallowed dutifully. She blanched a little at the taste, but managed to hide it
behind a well-placed hand covering her mouth. She then quickly rebutted her shirt and ruffled
her hair to give it its usual shagginess.

Draco ran a hand down his face as he gathered his breath. “That was -Merlin!”

Harry snorted, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He helped her to her feet, before fixing himself back into his trousers and adjusting his robes.
He then pulled her to him for another kiss, not caring if he could taste himself on her lips.
“Harry, you-you’ve bewitched me, body and soul,” he murmured against her lips.

“Well, I am a witch, darling. It’s what I do,” she teased.

They slipped out of the broom cupboard without another word, checking the corridors were
clear before kissing once more. Draco sighed, “Go on, I’m sure they’ve had more than
enough time to return to their dorms by now.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied with an innocent smile.

Draco hummed, unconvinced, and gestured for her to walk away down the clear corridor. She
pressed one more kiss to his cheek before disappearing down the corridor, leaving Draco to
finish his patrol in peace.
 The Inevitable
Chapter Notes

Did you miss me? I'm finally back with a new chapter. We're nearly getting to the final
showdown at the Ministry and all the lovely angst that will come with it. Enjoy!

It couldn’t last. It had been a beautiful, albeit stressful thing but it was inevitable that it would
come to an end one way or another. The students yelped as the wall crumbled to reveal
Umbridge and her cronies, but Harry kept her face neutral and stepped in front of the others.
Umbridge grinned maliciously as she caught sight of Harry, and Harry knew that by morning
every student would have a bloody hand from her quills. The thought made her blood boil. If
she could just get rid of her, then things could go back to normal and she wouldn’t need to
hide her lessons. Her hand tightened around her wand. ‘It would be so easy’, a voice
whispered to her. ‘You know the spell’.

The thought of Umbridge lying dead before her had its perks. For one, the school wouldn’t
need to fear her anymore and the teachers wouldn’t be scared of losing their jobs for speaking
up. Peace would be restored with just one swish of her wand. The name of the spell lingered
on her tongue until she met the gaze of Draco standing behind Umbridge. The blonde boy
held her gaze and mouthed ‘no’. With a sigh, Harry pocketed her wand and said nothing as
Umbridge grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to Dumbledore’s office.

----

Harry glared at Fudge as she entered the office, her lips curled up into a snarl. McGonagall
stood to the side of Dumbledore’s desk, the Headmaster choosing not to look at Harry at all
as she stared down the Minister of Magic. Percy Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt and one
other man stood silently along the bookshelves. Harry wanted to smack the smug look off of
Percy's face and she knew that Ron would forgive her for it too. Her attention quickly turned
back to the Minister of Magic who looked entirely too pleased with himself for her liking.

“What is the meaning of this, Minister?” she huffed. "I am not accustomed to being
manhandled."

Fudge seemed startled for a moment. “Now, Harry, we both know why you are here.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“You aren’t aware you have broken school rules?”

“No, sir.”
“So it’s news to you that an illegal student organisation has been discovered within the
school?”

“Has it?” she asked innocently.

Whilst Fudge looked like the vein on his forehead would burst any second, Umbridge
appeared with her ‘witness’. Marietta Edgecombe, was a friend of Cho’s who had come along
with her to the meetings. She now had the word ‘sneak’ was etched across her entire face.
Harry nearly smirked at the sight. For a snitch though, Marietta was oddly silent and allowed
Umbridge to inform Fudge of what Marietta had told her. Harry tried to remember if this was
a part of Hermione’s jinx, or if Marietta was simply terrified. She wouldn’t blame her if it
was the latter.

As the adults talked, she thought she heard Kingsley Shacklebolt whisper something from
behind her but when she glanced up at him, his lips were set in a firm line. Then as the
attention turned back to Marietta, Harry noted that her eyes looked oddly blank.

“Miss Edgecome, have you these meetings been happening over the last six months?”

To Harry’s amazement, Marietta shook her head.

“I don’t think you understand, dear. Have you been going to these meetings for the past six
months?” Marietta shook her head again.

“What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?” Umbridge asked testily.

“I would think it means that there have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is
that correct, Miss Edgecombe?”

Marietta nodded.

Umbridge then seized Marietta, pulled her round to face her and shaking the girl hard.
Kingsley stepped forward instantly, just as Dumbledore rose to his feet, his wand raised at
Umbridge. She released the girl immediately, holding back her hands as if she had been
burnt. Marietta looked as if she was completely unfazed by what had happened, even when
McGonagall rushed to her side and pulled out of Umbridge’s grasp.

“I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores,” said Dumbledore from behind his
desk.

It was a rare sight to see Dumbledore angry, but Harry always found that it was always in the
defence of his students. Her lips quirked up at the sight of it.

“Apologies, Minister,” Umbridge said. “I-I forgot myself for a moment.”

Then Umbridge handed Fudge the list of names that had been pinned up in the Room of
Requirement, and Harry’s face fell. “We saw it through it from the start. All his
fearmongering about You-Know-Who was all a ruse, you see, Cornelius? This was his plan
all along to seize control of the Ministry.”
Dumbledore glanced at Umbridge with a bored expression, before a strange smile crossed his
lips. “Naturally.”

“Professor-! No, he had nothing to do with this-!” Harry spluttered.

“Most noble of you, Harry, to protect me but I’m afraid the gig -as they say- is up.”
Dumbledore cast her a pointed look before turning his attention back to his self-appointed
jury. “Dumbledore’s Army, Cornelius. Not Potter’s Army. I instructed Harry to form this
organisation at the beginning of term. And I alone, am responsible for it.”

Delight spread across Fudge’s face. “So, you have been plotting against me? To undermine
my authority?”

Dumbledore merely shrugged in response. “You make it sound as if that would be such a
hard task to accomplish.”

“Weasley! Send a copy of your notes to the Daily Prophet. We should just make the morning
edition.” Percy ran from the room immediately, and Harry was glad to see the back of him.
“Dawlish. Shacklebolt. You will now remand Dumbledore into custody and escort him to
Azkaban where he will await trial!”

The thought of Dumbledore in Azkaban made Harry’s blood boil. Without Dumbledore, the
school would be left wholly under Umbridge’s control and Harry would rather die than let
that happen. For a moment, she considered what would happen if she ignored Dumbledore’s
warnings and let down the barriers of her mind. If she called to Voldemort, would he come to
her? Would he appear in front of Fudge right now and make him cower for daring to threaten
her? Set his snake on the Minister and strangle the life out of Umbridge. A part of Harry
enjoyed the idea, but knew that Voldemort was far more likely to kill them all than intimidate
them for her. So, Harry held her tongue and simply continued to glare at Fudge instead.

Dumbledore, however, seemed unperturbed by his arrest. He merely raised one silver
eyebrow as he looked down at the others and sighed, “Ah, I thought we might hit this little
snag.” You seem to be labouring under the delusion that I will -what is the phrase- come
quietly? Well, I can tell you this, I have no intention of going to Azkaban.”

Fudge snorted, “You intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores and myself single-
handed, do you?”

Dumbledore smiled, “Not if I can help it, no.”

“Enough of this!” Umbridge hissed. “Take him!”

With a wink aimed at Harry, Dumbledore then made a slight movement of his hand and a
burst of light knocked all of them to the ground. McGonagall lay over both Harry and
Marietta, shielding them both from Dumbledore’s spell. The Headmaster appeared from the
dust that was clearing around his now destroyed office. He knelt at their side, his lips set in a
firm line. There was an anger behind his eyes, lingering, and Harry wondered just what
Dumbledore had planned for Fudge when he returned.
“Professor, I-” Harry began but her words lodged in her throat. How could she even begin to
apologise for all of this?

“Listen to me, Harry,” he said urgently. “You must study as hard as you can with Professor
Snape. Do everything he tells you to do and practice every night. Remember, close your
mind-”

Dawlish stirred behind them and Dumbledore suddenly placed his hand to cup Harry’s face,
his finger brushing her scar. That tell-tale pain shot through her scar but Harry wished his
hand would stay there longer. A tear ran down her face as she leaned into it.

“-you will understand one day,” he whispered.

Suddenly Fawkes appeared over Dumbledore’s head with a rallying screech. The Headmaster
raised his hands and grabbed onto the phoenix’s tail, the pair of them vanishing in a blaze of
fire. Harry stared dumbfounded at where Dumbledore had been not a moment before.

“Where is he?” Fudge demanded as he pushed himself up from the floor.

“He can’t have Disapparated!”

“The stairs!” Dawlish and Shacklebolt ran out of the office, Umbridge hot on their tails with
their wands raised.

Harry lay there for a moment before bursting out into hysterical laughter. Fudge dusted
himself off, before he turned his attention to the remaining occupants of the room. “Minerva,
I think it would be wise to send these two back to their dormitories.”

McGonagall nodded, slowly rising to her feet and helping Marietta to hers. Harry brushed off
the dust and broken glass, failing to keep her laughter in check. Fudge shot her a scathing
look. “I don’t see what’s so funny, Miss Potter. This is the end of your protector.”

Harry adjusted her glasses and sighed, “I’m the Girl Who Lived, Minister. I don’t need
protecting. Clue’s in the name.” She smirked as she glided past him and out the office.

----

The day following Dumbledore’s escape, the students watched gleefully as Umbridge forced
the teachers to help her gain access to Dumbledore’s office but to no avail. Every name of
sweet was shouted at the griffin blocking the entrance, but it didn’t budge an inch. To
sweeten that victory even more, Umbridge had spent the first afternoon as Headmistress
answering the summonses of the teachers who were sadly unable to rid themselves of the
fireworks set off in their classrooms without her. Harry had kissed both Fred and George on
the cheek for that little scheme. The sight of Umbridge, sweaty-faced and dishevelled was
one that would that stay with Harry for a lifetime. She thought about that image fondly as she
lay in Draco’s lap, just as his hand ran up the expanse of her thigh.

“I really don’t wanna go on patrol tonight,” he whined.

“You know I’d much rather be on patrol with you.”

Harry deflated. “I know, think that might have been a factor in my candidacy. Not sure how
efficient we’d be if we kept making out every ten minutes.”

“True, but it’d be much more fun than patrolling with Parkinson.”

“I should hope so,” she purred before leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. “Fortunately for
you, I have Remedial Potions tonight so won’t be dying of boredom in your absence.”

“Remedial Potions?” he snorted. “I’d think that’s exactly what you’d be doing.”

“Shut up! It’s not my fault your godfather’s a dick.”

Draco smoothed his hands over her sides and hummed in agreement. “True, but I still can’t
believe you’re that bad at potions.”

Harry rolled her eyes. “The prick purposefully marks me down. I bet my fortune on it.”

“Ok, baby.” He placed a kiss to her forehead and smiled fondly, “Go on then, go do your
secret lessons with Snape. I’ll be here when you get back.”

With a reluctant sigh, Harry slipped her shoes on and made her way out of the common room.

----

Voldemort glanced over at Bellatrix asleep in the bed beside him, bare except for the black
sheets that covered both of their waists. Bellatrix was loyal and beautiful, and all too happily
shared his bed even with his current appearance. Her loyalty was unbridled, and he respected
her for that. But not much else. After all, it wasn’t Bellatrix who had plagued his thoughts
these past fourteen years. Even as he lay there beside his sleeping lover, he found himself
thinking of Harry Potter. Instead of Bellatrix’s untamed curls, he imagined a short shaggy
mess of black locks. Green eyes over dark brown. Pure hatred instead of devotion glaring
down at him. She would defy him down to her last breath, struggling against him and cursing
his name as he had his way with her. The thought should have repulsed him, but Voldemort
had long ago thrown away any notion he was a good person in any sense. And so Harry
continued to plague his dreams with her defiance and green eyes.

He imagined her astride his lap, a collar wrapped around her neck with the Dark Mark at its
centre. A bejewelled snake slithering out of a skull carved out of opal. Her body was covered
by a black silk gown that rustled as his hands moved to hold her waist steady above his hips.
She was mesmerising to behold.

“You really are a deplorable bastard, Tom,” she huffed.

“Careful, Harry. Am I not thy lord?”

“Then I must be thy lady,” she purred before leaning down to kiss him.

----
Harry retched onto the floor, reduced to her hands and knees as clear bile landed on the stone
floor of Snape’s office. Tears stung her eyes and she shuddered at both the bitter taste and the
image that had just plagued her mind.

“Tom, you sick fuck,” she mumbled.

She dared to glance up to where Snape was looking down at her with disgust. “What was
that?” he snapped.

“Well, I think, I think… Voldemort wants to fuck me,” she muttered dryly. “And he’s really
into BDSM. His safe-word is probably ‘python’.”

“Do you think this is funny?” he hissed. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of her vomit and
with a swish of wand, it was gone from the floor.

“No, I don’t think this funny.” She turned around so she was sat on the floor, running her
hands through her hair in frustration.

“Perhaps you’re enjoying his attention? Do you think that he is the dark knight of your
dreams, because I can promise you he isn’t. He will kill you, if he gets the chance.”

Harry scoffed, “Enjoying it? The man murdered my parents. He’s tried to kill me and my
friends numerous times. He sends me fucked up visions of him molesting me…and you think
I’m enjoying that?”

“That is just as well, Potter,” he said coldly. “Because you are neither special nor important to
the Dark Lord. And it is not up to you to find out what he is saying to his Death Eaters
either.”

“No -that’s your job isn’t it?” she spat.

Snape regarded her coolly for a moment. “Yes, Potter, it is my job. Now if you are ready, we
will start again.”

She was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, gazing at her parents’ reflections as eleven-
years-old. The black door at the end of the corridor. Running into Sirius’ arms that summer in
the faded walls of Grimmauld Place.

“I may vomit,” Snape drawled as he entered the memory.

“Fuck you,” Harry snarled as the spell stopped. “We’ve been at this for hours. If I could rest
for five minutes-!”

“The Dark Lord isn’t resting!” Snape shoved her back into the chair. “You and Black, you’re
both the same. Both whining about how unfair life has been to you, well it may have escaped
your notice but life isn’t fair. Your blessed father knew that, and he frequently saw to it!”

Harry rolled her eyes and roared, “Oh, change the bloody record! You talk about me whining
about life, but then how come you bring up my dad every chance you get!”
Snape ignored her and raised his wand again, but this time Harry raised her back at him. The
memory she saw shook her to her core. When Snape threw her out of his office, a part of her
felt something akin to pity for him. Maybe her father wasn’t as perfect as she had envisioned
him to be. But the sound of Snape calling her mother a ‘mudblood’ rang through her head
and her heart hardened against him once again.
 The Fall of Umbridge
Chapter Notes

Sorry it's been a while guys, but Umbridge is finally gone in this chapter! Next up - the
Battle at the Ministry

To say that Harry didn’t care much for Severus Snape was an understatement. To this day, she
regretted that when she flung him across the room in the Shrieking Shack, that it hadn’t
broken his neck. The man tormented any student he thought inferior or who clearly struggled
in his class, and harassed Harry on a near-daily basis with snide comments about her late
father. Even after seeing his worst memory, Harry didn’t think that his resentment of her was
just. She had never hurt him, except to resemble the boy who had once bullied him. Perhaps
his hatred of James and Sirius was to be expected, but Remus couldn’t help what he was and
that didn’t stop Snape from outing him in Third Year. Maybe Harry still hated Snape but she
did think she understood him a little bit better.

There were some questions though, that begged to be answered. Namely, how it was that her
parents had gone from yelling at each other to happily married in the space of a few years.

----

Harry would forever be thankful for the ingenuity of Fred and George, who managed to
distract Umbridge long enough for Harry to use her fireplace. She looked into the flames and
saw Lupin and Sirius’ faces staring back at her, listening to her intently as she told them
about Snape’s memory.

“How did Mum ever fall for Dad?” she whined. “He kept messing with his hair.”

Sirius laughed softly, “I forgot he used to do that.”

“Was he playing with the Snitch?” Lupin asked eagerly.

“Yeah… I thought he was a bit of an idiot actually,” she admitted softly.

“He always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around,” Sirius chuckled. “Couldn’t
stop himself from showing off. Not that it ever worked.”

“But she hated him!”

Lupin and Sirius exchanged a knowing look. “Nah, she didn’t. Lily had had a thing for James
since Third Year. The only reason she never said anything was because he was a right idiot
back then.”
“It’s no different to you and Malfoy. You thought he was a git when you met him, but now…
I’m guessing you wouldn’t be without him, would you?” Lupin said with a knowing grin.

A blush crossed Harry’s cheeks. “No, I guess wouldn’t.”

“You see, and they only started dating in Seventh Year.”

“Once James had deflated his head a bit,” Sirius added.

“And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it.”

“Even Snape?”

“Well…” Lupin bit his lip as he tried to word it carefully. “Snape was a special case.”

“Yeah, he was just as bad. Took every opportunity to curse James and your dad would never
take that lying down.”

“And Mum was ok with that?”

“I don’t think she ever knew. James was always very careful about hiding it from her, he
didn’t wanna upset her. And if Lily did know… well, she never let him catch on she did.”
Sirius paused.

“Harry, has Snape said done anything to you since you saw this? Is that why you’re asking
us?”

“No, no, he hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“How’s he teaching you Occlumency if he’s not speaking to you?”

Harry avoided their gaze. “That’s the thing. He’s kinda…stopped teaching me it. Kicked me
out of his office and everything.”

“He what?” Sirius shouted, and Harry nearly jumped out of her skin from the ferocity in his
voice. “That miserable bastard-!”

“He’s refused to teach you anymore?”

“Just Occlumency, but yeah.”

Sirius continued ranting in the background. “-Dumbledore gave him a direct order to teach
you. What the devil is that man playing at?”

She watched as Lupin seemed to grab Sirius and hold him in place, probably from stopping
him running out of the house with his wand held high. “Sirius, please,” she heard him plead
softly. “I will message Snape and try to sort this mess out. Harry, you must continue to
practice the exercises and keep your mind closed.”
“Moony, I’m fifteen. That whole ‘keep your emotions handled’ bullshit doesn’t really work
here.”

Lupin pursed his lips. “Perhaps not, but do…try.”

“Sure, I’ll try,” she muttered dryly. The pair nodded and disappeared into the flames once
again, leaving Harry with ash on her face and a longing for them to come back.

----

The final performance by Fred and George was one that would go down in Hogwarts’
history. The two redheads flying off into the sunset in a cloud of fireworks and announcing
their new shop in Diagon Alley. Harry felt proud to watch them, knowing that her investment
of her Triwizard Tournament winnings were being well-spent. She would have to drag Draco
to the opening, of course, but he could do with a little humbling after his stint as a member of
the Inquisitorial Squad. A part of her was sad that she no longer had the pair to rely on to
cheer her up in-between detentions with Umbridge. However, they had left the students of
Hogwarts with a small store of tricks – even a couple of Nifflers which had since infiltrated
Umbridge’s office. It almost made the slew of bandaged hands worth it, if only for a little
while.

----

Snape was still ignoring Harry by the time OWL examinations were beginning, which was
perfectly fine with Harry. The less she heard or saw the man, the better. She had better things
to be doing, like practicing for her exams which were always a bit touch and go. Charms had
gone off without a hitch, as she performed her Patronus charm upon the examinator’s request.
Her father’s stag appeared from her wand, ethereal and beautiful as always. It’s white glow
flashed across Umbridge’s face as she watched from the side-lines, her face set in a firm line
as Harry earned herself an ‘Outstanding’.

Harry’s good mood though evaporated with Hagrid’s dismissal. It had included Umbridge
attacked Hagrid in his own hut with several aurors, who were all beaten by Hagrid’s giant
blood and fists. McGonagall had been stunned in her attempts to defend Hagrid, and now lay
in the Hospital Wing. Hagrid and Fang had managed to run into the night together before
Umbridge could get her bearings. The fury she felt right now was unbridled. She could feel it
tingle her fingertips, grazing against her wand.

‘It would be so easy’, a voice called to her as she spied Umbridge the next day. ‘She has
taken the ones you love from you. Make her pay’.

Harry caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and for a brief moment, she thought she saw
her eyes a familiar shade of red.

----

A figure was knelt on the tiled floor of the Ministry, a familiar velour jacket around his
shoulders and dark hair falling over his eyes. A cloud of black sauntered around him, a pale
hand pointing a wand at the figure.
“I need you to get it for me – I can’t touch it.”

Dark eyes settled on the orb on a shelf, as its owner replied calmly: “You’ll have to kill me.”

“Oh, I will, Black, but first you will fetch it for me. You think you have felt pain? That is
nothing compared to what I will do to you. And Harry? Sweet little Harry and all your little
Auror friends can’t save you. Crucio!”

Harry awoke to the examinators hovering over her, who had now moved her from the exam
in the Great Hall to the Entrance Hall. Thankfully, most of the other students were used to
Harry’s fainting and seizures at this point and didn’t linger as she tried to dissuade them
taking her to the Hospital Wing.

“I-I’m fine, sir. Really,” she spluttered. “Just stress of exams, I think.”

“Ah, yes. Quite understandable, Miss. Now the exam’s still nearly over if you feel up to
finishing or-?”

“No, no, I think I’ve done my best. I think I’ll just try lying down for a bit,” she lied.

The examinator allowed her to leave without another word. Harry walked slowly away from
him until she was out of his sight before bolting towards the Slytherin common room. She
needed out of her robes and to find a way to leave Hogwarts undetected. ‘You can’t have him,
Tom. I won’t let you’, she thought with tears in her eyes.

----

Standing in front of Snape’s office was the last place Harry wanted to be when the thought of
Sirius dying plagued her mind, but he was the only one who could help. The only member of
the Order left at Hogwarts. Maybe he would know where Dumbledore was or could at least
alert the others that Sirius was in trouble. She knocked on his door hard, hammering her fists
against the wood.

“Snape, I know you’re in there!” she shouted. It was true, at this hour she knew that he spent
his time marking papers in the sanctity of his office with a gramophone playing softly in the
background. She could hear it now between her fists knocking on the door.

“Look, I know you hate me and everything, but I need your help. He has Sirius. He has Sirius
at the Ministry. I know it sounds stupid, but I-I saw it! And I know I should be closing my
mind to him. And I know that Sirius and my dad were a dick to you as a kid but…” Her voice
trailed off and she leaned her head against the door. “Please, sir, he’s all I have left.”

The door remained closed, and she heard no movement from within. Wiping tears away from
beneath her glasses, she sneered, “Fuck you then. I’ll save him myself.”

----

“Harry, wait! Just listen to me-!” Hermione shouted as Harry ran through the corridors.
“Sirius said that Voldemort didn’t have something last time. A weapon. That’s what’s in the
Department of Mysteries. That’s what I keep seeing,” she ranted.

Visions of Sirius writhing on the floor in pain with Voldemort circling him haunting her
mind, forcing her to keep walking. Dumbledore gone. Hagrid gone. McGonagall had been
moved to St Mungo’s. There was no one at Hogwarts who could help her now. Not even
Snape was listening to her.

“Harry, please! What if Voldemort wanted you to see that? Maybe he’s only hurting Sirius to
get to you? To make you go there?” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “Please, think
about this logically. What if this whole thing is just a trap?”

“So what if it is? Hermione, he’s the only family I have!”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. “Mate, how we even gonna get there? Umbridge has
your broom and has all the fireplaces watched.”

“Not all of them.”

----

She should have known getting into Umbridge’s office wouldn’t have been so easy. It had
taken mere minutes for Umbridge to burst in, after Kreacher had un-helpfully told her that
Sirius wasn’t home. She wished that house-elves weren’t so cryptic. But as she stared back at
the snarling face of Dolores Umbridge, she thought she might have bigger issues than house-
elves.

“You were going to Dumbledore, weren’t you?”

For once, she was telling the truth to the professor. “No.”

Umbridge backhanded her across the cheek, forcing her to stumble into the desk. Glancing
around the room, she noted how her conspirators had also been captured by the Inquisitorial
Squad. Even Draco stood in the far corner behind Umbridge’s desk, trying to avoid her gaze.

The door to the office opened and Snape entered. “You summoned me, Headmistress?”

“Ah, Snape, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, if you please.”

Snape glanced at the struggling students. “I’m afraid you’ve depleted my stores,
Headmistress, in interrogating students. You told me you were giving it to Potter last time. I
don’t see how her answers would have changed since.”

Umbridge flushed. “You can make another batch though?” she asked sweetly.

“Certainly,” he replied, his lip curling. “It only takes a full moon’s cycle to mature. It’ll be
ready in a month.”

“A month?” she squawked. “But I need it tonight, Snape! I have just found Potter trying to
flee the castle via my fireplace.”
Snape barely twitched, showing a smidgen of interest at her words. “Well, I don’t know why
you’re so surprised. Potter always tends to do the opposite of what she’s told.”

The Potion’s Master then finally turned his gaze to Harry, his dark eyes boring into hers with
that familiar loathing and coldness behind them.

“But I need to interrogate her!”

“And I have already told you that I have none,” he replied smoothly. “Unless you wish to
poison Potter -and I would have the greatest sympathy for you if you did- I’m afraid I cannot
help you.”

Snape then turned without another word, his face inscrutable and Harry wondered if he had
truly heard her through the door. “What a dick,” she muttered under her breath as the door
slammed shut behind him.

Umbridge fiddled with her wand as she drew it out of her pocket. “Very well…I am left with
no other alternative…Ministry security….yes…yes…” It was unnerving to find her talking to
herself with her eyes fixated on Harry. “You are forcing me, Potter. The Cruciatus Curse
ought to loosen your tongue.”

“That’s illegal!” Hermione cried. Even the Inquisitorial Squad seemed unnerved by the
mention of the spell.

As the wand was aimed at her, Harry met Umbridge’s eyes with as much disdain as she could
muster and murmured: “If you hurt me, he will kill you.”

“Who? Dumbledore?” she scoffed. “He wasn’t even able to protect himself.”

“Not Dumbledore. Voldemort.”

Umbridge froze at the sound of his name, before scoffing: “Don’t be ridiculous. Even if you
were telling the truth about him, last I checked he wanted to kill you.”

“Oh believe me, nothing would bringer greater joy. He hates me as much as he wants to
possess me. He thinks of me as his, and his alone. His to torment and one day, kill, and he
doesn’t take kindly to anyone who attempts the same thing.”

She glanced over at Draco whose eyes were filled with sadness at her words. He kept silent
though, and she continued: “So I would be very careful about the spell you next cast.”

For a moment, she found herself allowing her guard down. ‘Tom’. She felt him pushing
against her mind as the mental forts she’d built crumbled around him, and he looked through
her eyes. Suddenly Umbridge flew through the door to her office and toppled down the stairs
to the floor of her classroom.

“How dare you threaten me!” she heard Umbridge hiss distantly. She returned to reality to
find her cheek stinging and Hermione and Ron screaming at Umbridge to let her go. The
vision she had seen would have been lovely, but instead she was pinned to a chair with her
would-be-torturer glowering at her.
“Professor, please! The Minister wouldn’t want you to break the law. Don’t do this!”
Hermione cried.

“What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” replied Umbridge hotly as she lowered the
photograph of Fudge to face the desk. “He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter
last summer, but he was delighted with the chance to expel him-”

“That was you?” Harry scoffed. “I thought it was Snape.”

“Somebody had to act,” Umbridge continued to ramble as she turned back to face her. “They
were all bleating about silencing you somehow – but I was the one who actually did
something about it! Of course, you got away. I mistook how powerful your Patronus was. But
today you won’t be able to weasel your way out of it this time. Cruc-!”

Harry was frozen in place, but if she had been aware of her surroundings, she would have
seen the way that Draco began to raise his wand at Umbridge and the frightened look
Hermione shot him.

“Just tell her, Harry!”

----

As Harry watched Umbridge be carried away by the centaurs, she wondered if perhaps she
had gone too far. There was no telling when or if they would return her, or even what they
would do to her considering her policies on non-human magical beings. She imagined the
woman would be at least be certainly altered from her time with the centaurs. If they killed
her, she could always justify it that she didn’t have her wand with her. The pair then made
their way back to the castle, Harry whistling as she did so.

"Harry, stop whistling 'Revolting Children'!"

"But it fits so well!"

 The Day The World Went Away
Chapter Notes

Who wants an extra long chapter about the battle at the Ministry?

The Department of Mysteries was essentially a giant labyrinth of shelves filled with dusty
orbs of various sizes, that gave of a glimmer of light but not enough to effectively see. All of
their wands were held up to guide them through the darkness as they ran towards the row that
Harry had seen in his vision. Except as they got to the space before the shelf, they found no
sign of Sirius or that he had ever been there.

“But he was-he was just here,” Harry whispered. “Where-?”

Frantically, she looked around the shelves, hoping to find Sirius laying on the floor. Her heart
sank though as she slowly realised that Sirius was most definitely not in the room. Kreacher
had lied. ‘Why did you want me here?’

“Harry?” Ron called warily. “This one’s got your name on it.”

Harry spun around to see the orb that Ron meant, just above Ron’s head. On the yellowing
label attached to it, in a spidery scrawl it read:

S.P.T. to A.W.P.B.D.
Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.

‘Is this what you were after, Tom?’ she wondered and with a curious hand, she plucked it
from the shelf. She half-expected for something to happen. For something to spew out of it or
for something horrible to happen, but nothing did.

Instead, the light inside of the orb swirled as a familiar voice croaked: “The one with the
power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. And the Dark Lord shall mark as his equal but
they shall have power the Dark Lord knows not. For neither can live while the other
survives.”

The light of the orb dulled as the words swam around Harry’s mind as she desperately tried to
find meaning behind them. She heard Hermione stifle a gasp behind her and Harry finally
raised her gaze away from the orb.

“That’s a good girl, Harry. Now why don’t you hand that over to me? Hmm?”

She wasn’t surprised to find Lucius Malfoy emerge from the darkness behind her, his Death
Eater mask falling away with a swish of his wand. Of course, he was there. After the
graveyard, she knew that Voldemort would want him to prove his loyalty with some foolish
mission. She glanced at the orb in her hand. It had cost two Aurors their lives, and nearly cost
Arthur Weasley his. It seemed such a silly thing to sacrifice so much for, but Voldemort had
never been good at weighing up collateral damage.

“Where’s Sirius?” she sighed.

“You already know the answer to that, Harry,” Lucius drawled. “It was, unlike last time, an
illusion of the Dark Lord’s making.”

“Harry!” Ginny whimpered behind her.

Harry looked up and saw that more figures in Death Eater’s masks and black robes were
coming forward, blocking off all the available exits. She exhaled slowly, trying not to allow
her frustration at her own naivety show.

“Oh, the cleverness of you,” she murmured bitterly. “So, what now?”

“Now, you hand that over to me like a good girl.”

Harry scoffed, “We both know I’m not going to do that.”

“Oh, she knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter,” she heard a woman coo mockingly.

From behind Lucius, a woman emerged from the darkness and Harry stilled at the sight of
her. Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry glanced nervously back at Neville, unsure how the boy would
react to see the woman who had tortured his parents and rendered him practically an orphan.
If it were Harry, she’d probably be inclined to torture her in their names.

“Bellatrix Lestrange,” Neville stuttered.

The witch turned her head in acknowledgement, her eyes squinting at Neville until they
gleamed with recognition. “Neville Longbottom, isn’t it?” she chuckled. “How’s Mum and
Dad?”

Neville lunged forward; his wand brandished in front of him. Harry whistled and Ron
instantly pulled Neville back, whilst Harry never broke eye contact with Lucius. “Nobody
make a move until I say so,” Harry hissed. “What does Voldemort want with this? Why did
he send you?”

“You dare speak his name, you filthy little half-blood!” Bellatrix snarled.

Harry rolled her eyes. “I could call him Tom, if you prefer. I find it makes us seem closer,”
she mused.

Bellatrix’s lip curled. “You-!”

“Oh, did I make the big bad supremacist angry? An asshole by any other name would still be
just an ass.”
Lucius shot her a pointed look, as if he knew exactly what she was doing by pushing
Bellatrix’s buttons. “Now, now. She’s just curious. Nothing wrong with that. Prophecies, my
dear, can only retrieved by those they are written about.”

“And I’m assuming the lazy git was too busy to get it himself?”

“I’m afraid he cannot simply walk into the Ministry as he is.”

“Has he never heard of Polyjuice Potion?” she muttered dryly.

Lucius shook his head lightly, trying to conceal his mirth. “I’ll be sure to pass on your
suggestion. Now, if you would kindly hand over the prophecy-”

Harry snorted, “You’ll let us all go back to Hogwarts? C’mon, Lucius, I’m not stupid.”

“Lucius, let’s just kill her already!” Bellatrix whined.

“No,” Lucius snapped. “I told you those weren’t our orders. Our orders were to retrieve the
prophecy and if you smash it-”

The thought of smashing the orb and calling it a day did occur to Harry. It would be an
effective way to end all of this. She didn’t particularly care for the prophecy or what it meant.
She wanted to go home to Sirius and reassure herself he was ok, falling asleep in one of his
jackets and waking up to the sound of him shouting at Kreacher.

“Yes, yes, this all sounds very important but if you’ll excuse me, I have a godfather to find
and a house elf to possibly beat the shit out of,” she muttered dryly.

Lucius pursed his lips as if to stifle his own laughter. “Not before you hand it over, Harry
dear. I’m not leaving here without it.”

She knew there would be horrible repercussions if he failed Voldemort. Her thoughts drifted
to Draco who had let the others go once Umbridge was gone, and of Narcissa who probably
sat at home waiting for her husband to hopefully return to her. A part of her almost wanted to
hand it over, if only for their sake but Harry wasn’t in the mood to be compliant. Not that she
ever claimed to be.

Without a second thought, she tossed the orb into the air and caught it just as easily as if it
were a snitch. Lucius took a step forward, cautiously. “You know, Lucius, this isn’t personal.
I just really fucking hate your boss. Now!”

In perfect unison, the six of them launched spells that threw the Death Eaters out of their
paths, before they began running back to where the door had been. The Death Eaters weren’t
so easily defeated though, as they appeared before them after every turn as they made their
way through the labyrinth.

“Fuck this shit,” Harry huffed. “Reducto!”

The orbs from the shelves then began falling onto the Death Eaters, the shelves collapsing
around them as the students fled.
----

They ended up in a strange amphitheatre-like room, a large hunk of rock stood as a dais from
which a large stone arch stood proudly despite its battered appearance. In the space of the
archway though, was a gossamer veil that seemed to almost glow with an ethereal light.
Harry approached it warily, the orb still in-tact in her hand as she followed the eerie sound of
distant voices.

“Do you hear those voices?”

“There aren’t any voices, Harry,” Hermione panted.

“Last time you said that, we found out there was a snake in the walls,” she replied dryly.

Luna came to stand closer to Harry. “I hear them too.”

Harry glanced around the room, noting the circular size of it and the benches arranged above,
not unlike the courtroom she had been in previously. “What it this place?” she murmured.

The sound of movement made her freeze. “Get behind me!”

The Death Eaters came flying towards them in clouds of black smoke, forcing Harry to the
floor of the dais. When she lifted her head again, the others were each being held by a Death
Eater around the room. Some were bleeding and beaten from the spells they had thrown at
them. She stumbled to her feet, meeting the gaze of Lucius once again.

“Aren’t you a little tired of running, Harry?” Lucius sighed.

Harry sighed, placing her hands on her knees as she tried to regain her breath. “Tired? Yes,
but altogether too used to it.”

“Hand over the prophecy, and we won’t kill your friends.” He threw a pointed look to the
Death Eaters standing around the room.

Harry knew they couldn’t outmatch them. For a moment, she hoped that Snape had rallied the
troops and someone, anyone would come for them. She thought back to the blank expression
and cold eyes he had sent her way earlier, and she knew he hadn’t. ‘You win this round,
Tom’, she thought sadly as she handed the orb to Lucius.

Lucius smirked, holding it proudly in his hand. Suddenly, a bright light appeared behind them
and both turned around to find a figure crouching before them, dressed in a velour jacket with
a familiar mess of dark hair.

“Oh, Lucy, I’m home,” Sirius sing-songed as he stood to his full height.

Lucius scowled at him, lowering his defences long enough for Sirius to blast him with a
quick Stupefy. As the blonde man fell to the ground, so did the prophecy. It smashed against
the rocky form of the dais, rendered into splinters of broken glass and a whisp of smoke.
Lucius’ eyes widened in horror as thoughts of Narcissa and Draco filled his head, and what
punishment awaited them after tonight. His fist clenched and with a snarl, he reached for his
wand and prepared for battle.

Other bright lights appeared around them, knocking Death Eaters to the wall and floor. Harry
noted all the familiar faces: Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Remus and Shacklebolt. She watched as
spells were thrown across the room and the Order members quickly gathering the others from
the hands of the Death Eaters.

Sirius quickly ushered her out of the line of fire and off the dais. “I want you to get the others
and get out of here.”

Harry shook her head frantically. “No. I’m not leaving you here!”

“Bambi,” Sirius sighed as he cupped her face lovingly. “You’ve done beautifully, but let me
take it from here.”

They ducked as a jet of green light narrowly missed Sirius. Across the room, Harry saw
Tonks chasing after Bellatrix whose maniacal cackle echoed off the walls. Sirius snarled as
he recognised his cousin’s face. “Run, now!” Sirius barked before dashing to meet Bellatrix.

Harry’s wand stayed in her hand as she stupefied Dolohov as he tried to get Sirius from
behind. Lucius was suddenly smashed against the dais that Sirius and Bellatrix were now
duelling on. Before Lucius could even aim his wand, Lupin jumped between Harry and
Lucius.

“Harry, go!” Remus shouted.

She found her legs moving as she tried to run towards the others, but her mind was distracted
with thoughts of Sirius. Sirius was alive. Sirius was alive. Jumping atop the dais again, she
scanned the room for the others and found them huddled on the other side of it, being
shielded by Shacklebolt and Moody.

“C’mon, we both know you can do better than that,” she heard Sirius jeer.

Bellatrix snarled and a jet of green light hit him squarely on the chest. Sirius’ laughter
faltered. He caught Harry’s gaze and then he was falling, his body sinking through the veil of
the arch. Distantly, she heard Bellatrix squeal in delight and Lucius shout her name but her
gaze was transfixed on the archway. She took a step forward, unsure of what had just
happened. Sirius had just slipped through the veil and now -

Sirius was gone.

She felt Remus wrap his arms around her, holding her in place. And then it hit her, and Harry
let out an earth-shattering scream.

A new crack appeared in the archway, Death Eaters and Order members alike covered their
ears to fend off the scream. Still Remus held her, despite the own ringing in his ears. His tears
threatening to spill from his eyes as he held the girl screaming for her godfather.

“He’s gone, Harry,” she heard Remus say. “He’s gone.”

A distinct cackle caught her attention and she spied Bellatrix slipping out of the room. With a
snarl, Harry broke free of Remus’ grip and ran after her, ignoring him calling her name.

----

“Crucio!”

Harry didn’t think twice before the curse left her lips and Bellatrix crumbled to the floor in
agony. ‘This is for Sirius’, she thought. ‘My Sirius’ the curse made the black-haired witch
writhe and scream, her voice echoing through the atrium of the Ministry. Harry didn’t care
though. She wanted her to suffer for what she’d done, this woman who had killed the one
person who could have given her childhood she’d always wanted. A home and family away
from the Dursely’s of Privet Drive. Someone loyal only to her. Sirius loved Harry as much as
he had loved her father and Harry didn’t care if it was latent guilt or grief that bound them so
closely in such a short time. Sirius had loved Harry, unconditionally, and Harry had loved
him back.

“You took everything from me,” she hissed. She relented the curse only to keep her wand
trained on the witch. “Pick up your wand.”

“What?” Bellatrix gasped.

“Pick up your wand, Bellatrix,” she said steadily.

Bellatrix eyed her warily, unsure if she meant it or not. Surely the Girl Who Lived wasn’t
planning to murder her right then and there, but then she saw the cold determination in her
eyes. Rage burned behind those green eyes of hers, and Bellatrix’s blood ran cold. She
glanced behind the girl to the empty atrium and saw that none of her comrades was coming to
her aid. If Harry wanted her dead, then it would be all too easy to convince to the Aurors that
she had killed in self-defence. No one would question it. Not Dumbledore’s girl. Not after
tonight.

“I’m probably doing you a favour. Killing you now. Merlin knows what he’ll do to you when
he finds out how you failed him.”

Bellatrix blinked. “What are you on about?” For the first time, there was a hint of fear in her
voice.

“It smashed. The prophecy smashed when Lucius got struck. Now what do you suppose
Voldemort will do when he finds out you let that happen?” she replied coldly. Her scar seared
against her flesh, but she ignored it. The tears that streaked down her face would come
regardless.

“You’re lying!” Bellatrix snarled.

“Am I?”

“Accio prophecy! Accio prophecy!” she shrieked, her resolve crumbling as nothing came.
“No! Master, I tried!”
The spell hovered on Harry’s lips as she watched Bellatrix close her fist around her wand, but
the words never came. A chill ran up her spine and she flexed her neck, trying to shake it off.

“She killed him, Harry,” she heard someone whisper behind her. “She deserves to be
punished.”

Harry rolled her eyes and turned quickly, aiming her wand at Voldemort with the spell on her
lips which died as he disarmed her. His face was gaunt and snake-like, just as he had
appeared to her in the graveyard. His red eyes bore into hers as he took in his nemesis and
servant.

He shook his head lightly and tutted, “Such a pity. Too weak to do such a simple spell.”

Tears were streaming down Harry’s face as she glared at him. “Fuck you, Tom,” she
whimpered.

“Hmm, and you smashed my prophecy. How very careless of you and Lucius,” he said softly.
“Months of preparation and effort, and I still find myself empty-handed. What should I make
of that, Bella?”

“M-Master, please, I am so sorry. The Aurors- Black caught us unawares-!”

“Silence!” he roared. “I did not risk coming to the Ministry to hear your excuses. I came for
her!”

His words shocked both women. Bellatrix stared at him in disbelief. His wand was not aimed
at the girl, and yet he looked as if he wasn’t planning on killing her at all. There was no
malice behind his eyes as he stared at the teenager. Bellatrix recognised that look and the
weight behind it made her heart sink.

Harry eyed him warily as he turned his attention back to her. He had come for her, but for
what purpose? If he wanted her dead, she’d be facing the tip of his wand by now. Memories
of nightmares and phantom touches filled her head and she swallowed thickly. ‘No one will
hear me if I scream. No one knows where I am’, she thought and allowed a tear to fall from
her face.

Voldemort stepped forward and with a mocking smile, tucked a stray hair behind Harry’s ear.
Harry shuddered at his touch, her scar burning against her flesh. “Do you still burn for me,
Harry?” he purred.

Harry closed her eyes tightly, willing him away from her but his scent assaulted her nostrils
and she was back in that graveyard pinned against the headstone. That same fear and
revulsion coursed through her, holding her in place. If she moved, it was real. That hand
tracing the lines of her face was real. Sirius being dead was real. The pale skull-like face
leaning towards her was real.

“It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way.”
Dumbledore’s voice was a soothing balm against the rage of emotions flooding through
Harry. Dumbledore wouldn’t let Voldemort touch her. Voldemort was too scared of
Dumbledore to try anything like that. She let out a relieved sigh which made Voldemort’s
nostrils flare.

Voldemort turned his attention back to the Headmaster and replied coolly: “By which time I
shall be gone, and you shall be dead.”

Dumbledore pushed Harry out of harms’ way before the green jet of light even left
Voldemort’s wand. She curled herself up against the black marbled walls of the Ministry,
watching the battle unfold with teary eyes. It didn’t matter anymore. The sound of their
fighting became little more than muffled noises as she stared into the blackness of the
Ministry.

----

She watched Voldemort disappear, seemingly defeated, and she stumbled to her feet to stand
beside her Headmaster. As she turned to face him though, a searing pain shot through her
entire body and she fell to the floor. She felt him, probing at her mind and pulling at her
senses until her eyes glowed green as she stared up at Dumbledore.

“You’ve lost, old man,” she wheezed. “Harry is mine.”

Dumbledore regarded her warily as he knelt at her side. “Fight him, Harry,” he urged softly.

Harry felt her body shaking with the pain, her mind being flooded with images that haunted
her. It felt like another of Snape’s Occlumency lessons except this felt more intimate. It was
as if he was towering over, his hands running along her seizing body as he took in her
vulnerable form.

“Join me and I will give you everything you ever wanted,” Voldemort cooed.

Harry whimpered against the marbled floor, “No.”

Unperturbed, he continued: “I know what you want, Harry. More than anyone else in this
world. You want to belong somewhere. A family. I can give you that.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed. “You took my family away from me.”

“I can give you a new one. I can give you the world.” He paused and sauntered around her
body. “I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want.”

“You-you just want to own me. You can’t kill me so you’ll settle for owning me.”

Voldemort scoffed, “You don’t really believe that, sweet thing. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I
say, and I will be your slave.”

Love. Her mind managed to pull images through the horrors of the love she had known. The
hug she, Ron and Hermione had shared when she un-petrified. Ron handing Harry her first
ever Christmas present. Her parents’ faces in the Mirror of Erised. Sirius cupping her face
and telling her that he would always be there for her. Draco. Draco whispering that he loved
her. Draco who nearly broke his cover at the thought of her being tortured. She thought of
him back at Hogwarts awaiting her return, anxiously pacing the common room under Blaise’s
watchful gaze. Voldemort could never understand that. Would never do that for her.

Harry barked out a broken laugh. “Love you? You know nothing about the damn thing. You
see it only as a weakness, and I feel sorry for you.”

Voldemort’s face hardened. “Harry. Don’t defy me.”

Harry snickered, “Sorry, Tom, but you have no power over me.”

Something snapped and Voldemort was pushed out of her mind. She imagined the hands of
her loved ones shutting the door of her mind on him, not allowing him to invade it again. She
gasped loudly as she felt him finally leave her. Rolling onto her front, she was amazed to see
him standing over her. She wasn’t sure if it was simply an illusion or if he truly was there.

“You’ll regret this, Harry, and you will lose everything,” he hissed.

Voldemort’s face changed as he saw the Aurors and Ministry officials slowly enter the
atrium, slack-jawed at the sight of him. He vanished then in a whisp of black smoke and
Harry felt like she could finally breathe easy again.

“He’s back!”

Harry and Dumbledore shared a pointed look as the Headmaster held her in his arms.
“Perceptive as always, Cornelius,” Dumbledore muttered dryly.

Harry might have managed a snicker normally, but the weight of the day had taken its toll on
her and she fell back against Dumbledore’s chest. A fresh tear left her eye as she breathed in
his comforting scent. She heard the flash of a camera and willed for Death to come claim her
as it had done for Sirius.
 Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep
Chapter Notes

Whew! Order of the Phoenix is done and dusted. I'll be drawing more on Harry's grief
over Sirius in the next few chapters but this is just the initial stages of it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The air in Dumbledore’s office seemed stifling as reality crashed down on Harry Potter. The
Headmaster had sent her back to Hogwarts via Portkey, after scolding Fudge for trying to talk
before he assured the safety of his students. Now Harry stood alone in Dumbledore’s office,
every trinket and portrait just as it had been the night Dumbledore had vanished, but all the
dust and debris had been cleaned in his absence. Harry stared up at the various portraits of
Headmasters and Headmistresses lining the walls, and her heart stuttered at the sight of
Phineas. If the office hadn’t been locked, she could have used his portrait to check where
Sirius was. She wouldn’t have gone running to the Ministry. Lucius wouldn’t be arrested.
Sirius would be alive still.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by the arrival of Dumbledore, who cradled the new-
born Fawkes in his robes before putting the phoenix back on his podium. “Well, Harry, you’ll
be pleased to know that none of your schoolmates have any serious injuries from tonight,” he
eventually said as he sat down behind his desk.

Harry nodded, no words were able to leave her mouth as she stared numbly at the floor.

“I know how you’re feeling Harry,” he said quietly.

“You couldn’t possibly know how I feel,” she seethed. Harry wasn’t entirely sure she could
name every emotion she felt at that moment. Rage. Despair. Guilt. Heartbreak. So many
emotions, they threatened to consume her.

“I have loved and lost too, Harry. What you’re feeling right now is normal, it’s actually a
good thing you feel this way-”

“I don’t care!” she screamed. A mirror on the far corner of the room cracked. Hot tears
poured down her face, her grief finally coming full force. She grabbed a lunascope and threw
it across the room. “I’ve had enough! I'm sick of people trying to kill me every five minutes!
I want out! Let me out!”

Several instruments were smashed upon impact as she hurled them across the room, uncaring
for the glass or what she was doing. Dumbledore made no movement to stop her though,
watching her carefully from behind half-moon glasses. “You do care, Harry, and because you
care, it is tearing you apart right now. What’s worse is, you want it to kill you… but it won’t.”
“Why not? I just- Just make it stop!” she sobbed, her hands pulling at fistfuls of her own hair.
“I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. I can’t.”

“I know you blame yourself for what happened, and you wish that it was you that had been
killed. You wish you had never let Voldemort get inside your head, that you let yourself be
deceived by him. Believe me, Harry, I know better than anyone how you feel,” he replied
softly. “The truth is, it is my fault that Sirius died.”

Harry looked back at the Headmaster curiously. “Professor, I-?”

“Or rather, almost entirely my fault. I’m not so arrogant as take the blame of Bellatrix’s
actions. Sirius was a brilliant, energetic man who did not do well in captivity, and I should
have foreseen that anything that might put you in danger would spur him into action. I should
have foreseen it, and I am so sorry that my failure has meant you have lost someone so dear
to you.”

Harry stared at him in disbelief. She didn’t say anything, too scared that she would burst into
tears again. There was a pain behind Dumbledore's usually twinkling eyes, something that
told her he wasn't lying. He knew how she felt, and it had tore him up inside as well. Yet
somehow, he was still standing.

“Please sit down,” the Headmaster said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Harry obeyed without a second thought.

“I owe you an explanation for what happened. Starting with, why I have been so distant with
you this term. I knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort realised about the
connection between you two. I thought by distancing myself from you, he’d be less tempted
to abuse it. But as Professor Snape has informed me, it would seem he wasn’t just looking for
a way to retrieve the prophecy.”

“He-” Harry tried before her voice failed her. She swallowed thickly, “Did you ever think
he’d…want me like that?”

Dumbledore stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. “It isn’t uncommon for narcissists to
desire people they perceive can understand them, are similar to them. To Lord Voldemort,
you are quite possibly the only person who can understand him and his ways, and that
translated into desire for you.”

Harry nodded sadly. “So tonight? That was more than just about getting the prophecy then?”

Dumbledore nodded. “I believe that had I not arrived when I did, if Professor Snape hadn’t
alerted the Order, Voldemort and his followers would have taken you with them. He would
have stolen you away when you were utterly defenceless to him. He would get everything he
wanted in one night, while you lost everything.”

“I still lost everything.” She paused. “Kreacher lied to me.”

“Yes, I am afraid he has been serving more than one master these past few months.”
Harry’s eyes widened in realisation. “The Malfoys.”

“I believe he told Voldemort what the Malfoys already knew, that Sirius was the only person
outside of perhaps Draco that you would go through great lengths to rescue. Naturally, he
couldn’t get to Draco but-”

“-He could get to Sirius,” she muttered bitterly.

“Or rather, he could convince you to believe that he had captured Sirius. Knowing how
reluctant Sirius was to stay inside, and his rebellious nature, it was very easy for him to
convince you to leave Hogwarts.” He paused. “I do believe though, whether following
Voldemort’s orders or not, that the Malfoys did order Kreacher to keep Sirius out of the way.
Perhaps I am giving them too much credit, but I think that they did so to protect both you and
Sirius.”

Harry blinked in confusion. “Protect us, why?”

“Despite everything that happened between Sirius and his family, I would be amiss to say
that Narcissa never stopped caring for him. And I don’t believe that Lucius would want his
wife to lose another family member to this war. Disowned or not.”

Harry thought back to her conversation with Narcissa last year, when she had told her about
what she had lost because of the war. She hoped that Dumbledore was right, and wasn’t just
being kind. Clearing her throat, she shifted in her seat. “And the prophecy? Why did
Voldemort want it?”

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses and sighed, “When he killed your parents, Voldemort knew
of the prophecy. He knew of it, but didn’t know its full contents. Ever since that night, he has
been seeking it: the knowledge of how to destroy you.”

“It smashed,” she replied bluntly. “I heard some of it but-”

“Thankfully, I did. The full prophecy speaks of a child born at the end of July, nearly sixteen
years ago. A child whose parents had defied Voldemort thrice.”

Harry blinked. “Me? The prophecy was talking about me.”

“Not necessarily at the time. The prophecy alluded to only two children born at that time
whose parents were in the Order and had narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of
course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom. It never said whether it would be a boy
or a girl.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Then why did he choose me?”

“He chose the child most likely to be a danger to him. He chose a half-blood girl rather than
the pureblood boy. Even then, he saw himself in you before he had ever seen you. By
marking you with that scar, he made you his equal. Giving you a share of his own powers,
that led to you even belonging to his own House here at Hogwarts.”
Harry rose from her seat and made her way over to the far window, where the dawn was
creeping over the mountains. “Why did you never tell me any of this?”

Dumbledore sighed wearily, “Because after all you’ve been through, I thought I was doing
you a kindness. Every year, I let you leave this castle barely unscathed and exhilarated after
your battles against Voldemort. I made you live with the Dursleys because of an ancient
magic that would protect you from harm. I couldn’t bring myself to burden you further.”

“Why?” she asked weakly.

“I care for you too much, Harry. I cared more about your happiness than your knowing the
truth, more for your peace of my mind than my plan. I didn’t care about the names and faces
of those would die in the future because of it. Just that you were alive and happy.”

He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling with pride. “Look at what you have achieved in such a
little time. Your magic has grown stronger every day, your courage and your feats are
unheard of in a child your age. What’s more you have also found friendship and love here at
Hogwarts. Something Voldemort never could fully possess.”

Harry turned back to the desk and sat down once again, her brow furrowed as she stared at
the Headmaster. “I still don’t understand,” she said softly.

“One day, you will. One day, you will understand everything. I just hope you don’t hate me
for it,” he said with a woeful smile. Harry watched curiously as a single tear fell down the
Headmaster’s cheek.

----

Once Dumbledore was finally certain that Harry wasn’t going to smash anymore furniture,
Harry made her way down to the Slytherin common room. She entered through the
passageway and her heart stopped at the sight of Draco, his head in his hands as he sat on the
sofa beside Blaise. Blaise noticed her arrival and nudged Draco, his blonde head lifting till he
finally settled his gaze on her. Without a second thought, the pair ran into each other’s arms.

“Hogsmeade,” Harry sobbed. “Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade.”

Draco buried his head in her hair and whimpered, “Hogsmeade.”

“I’m so sorry. Your dad-I-I couldn’t-I-”

He pulled away from her so he could look directly into her eyes. “Harry… I don’t blame
you,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry about Sirius.”

Her lip quivered before she burst into tears again, burying her face in Draco’s chest as he held
her close. The common room quickly emptied, and the pair were left alone.

----

Malfoy Manor was quiet save for the sound of Narcissa weeping in the master bedroom. She
was curled up on the bed she shared with her husband, shaken by the news of the night
before. She remembered him kissing her softly before he left for his mission, dressed in his
black robes and the Death Eater mask in hand. Now she wasn’t sure when she would see him
again. ‘How am I going to tell Draco?’ she thought with another sob.

“What the devil are you crying for?” Bellatrix sniffed from the doorway.

Bellatrix had arrived not long before the owl came from the Ministry informing her of
Lucius’ arrest. Her sister had been indifferent as she explained what had happened, snarling
insults about Harry and Sirius, all the while Narcissa’s world had shattered.

“My husband has just been arrested. How would you like me to react?” she hissed.

“Proud. He was doing his service to our lord.”

Narcissa scoffed, “He failed, Bella! Do you think that the Dark Lord will be so eager to sing
his praises after tonight? No prophecy. No Harry. Everything has gone wrong, and you dare
to stand there criticising me?”

“I wouldn’t say everything went wrong,” she sniffed. “I managed to lay waste to that pathetic
cousin of ours.”

Narcissa’s heart clenched as she turned to avoid her sister’s gaze. She had never enjoyed the
way that Bellatrix seemed almost too eager to dismiss Andromeda and Sirius from their lives.
“Don’t talk about Sirius like that.”

“He was a blood traitor-!” Bellatrix snarled.

The blonde shook her head lightly and laughed bitterly, “Do you even know just how many
family members we’ve lost for this cause? We disowned Andy and Sirius. Regulus just
disappeared. My husband is headed to Azkaban. Am I to lose my son too before the Dark
Lord is satisfied with our sacrifice?”

“The Dark Lord rewards those loyal to him.” Bellatrix then turned on her heel and went to
walk away.

“He was going to take her tonight, you know. Harry. He was going to kidnap her and force
her to be his queen in the new world order,” Narcissa called out. Bellatrix stilled in the
doorway. “He doesn’t want you anymore, Bella. He wants Harriet Potter.”

Bellatrix looked back at her sister, her eyes narrowed and filling with tears. She didn’t say
anything though, just stormed away. Narcissa took that as a small victory. It would be the
only victory she would have for a long time now.

----

Grief clung to Harry like a second skin as she walked the halls of Hogwarts, barely even
registering the other students. Draco gently guided her from walking into walls and people,
and tried to get her to eat. Many of the Slytherins were giving her a wide berth, mostly out of
deference for her grief. The Harry that walked the halls of Hogwarts in the final days of term
wasn’t the Harry Potter that they had known for the past five years. She seemed like a ghost
of herself, with only Draco to tether her back to reality until the others were released from the
Hospital Wing.
The only good thing to come from the aftermath of what had happened was Dumbledore’s
reinstatement as Headmaster. His first task after calming Harry down had been to retrieve
Dolores Umbridge from the Forbidden Forest. He had simply walked into the forest and
returned not half an hour later supporting Umbridge. Neither he nor Umbridge said a word
about what Dumbledore had said to the centaurs, or indeed what they had done to her. All
anyone knew was that Umbridge was that she seemed mostly unscathed, but was lying in the
Hospital Wing until further notice. She had been fired from her position at Hogwarts,
naturally. Her fate, however, laid in the hands of Fudge and the vengeful heart of Harry
Potter.

----

Harry stared out of the window in Dumbledore’s office when Fudge appeared to collect
Umbridge. The older man seemed humbler in Dumbledore’s presence than he had the last
time he was in the office.

“Dolores will be suspended immediately, Dumbledore. You have my word,” he said feebly.

“That’s not good enough,” Harry muttered.

The men stilled, turning their attention back to the young woman who had foregone her usual
uniform and instead wore a baggy black hoodie. “What was that, Miss Potter?”

“Dolores Umbridge abused her position here at Hogwarts to threaten and harm the staff and
students here. I will not allow her to avoid the consequences of her actions,” she replied
coldly.

Fudge pursed his lips. “Harry, dear, you have been through a lot these past few days. Perhaps
this isn’t-”

Rolling her eyes, she sighed wearily, “I’m sure you’re about to wax some lyrical about how
such things are above a child’s understanding. But I know abuse, Minister, and I know that
someone like her will hurt someone again unless they are punished.”

Fudge pinched his brow in frustration, “The word of one child is not enough to build a case-”

Harry let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, you really have forgotten who you are dealing with, haven’t
you? Blaise!”

The door to the office opened and Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle entered the room, followed by
Colin Creevey, both carrying a large box full of documents. “In these boxes you will find
written statements from various students and teachers alluding to physical abuse over the past
year. My fellow Slytherins have quite helpfully been collecting them for me as I was under
too much surveillance to do it myself. Also, my friend Colin Creevey is an avid photographer
and has documented all physical abuse with his camera. That should be enough to bring
towards the Wizganamot.”
Fudge flustered as he flicked through the damning statements. “This is-”

“If that isn’t enough for you though, Minister, I do have evidence of her planning to use the
Cruciatus Curse on me. In case you don’t believe the word of my schoolmates, you’ll find a
recording device in there that I planted in Umbridge’s office. A parting gift from the Weasley
twins for me after she drove them from the school.” She turned to face Dumbledore. “That’s
everything, isn’t it, Professor?”

A small smile spread across Dumbledore’s face. “Yes, I think that’s everything. You’ll find
Miss Umbridge in the Hospital Wing, Cornelius. I think that she would much prefer hearing
the news from you, don’t you?” he muttered dryly.

Fudge simply nodded, knowing that once again he was outsmarted and outmatched.

----

Leaving the Hogwarts Express always left her feeling a sense of longing, but now it was just
one more thing that tied her to Sirius. Reluctantly, Harry stepped off of the train and carried
her trunk and Hedwig back through the portal to the platform. She imagined the boys from
Snape’s memory walking alongside her with their trunks, laughing and joking together. The
sound was so sweet to her ears.

She was taken aback though, by the amount of people waiting for her on the other side.
Remus and Tonks, Mad Eye Moody glaring at every passer-by, and Mr and Mrs Weasley.
Fred and George stood proudly in new jackets, proof of their obvious success in their new
business. Her heart swelled at the sight of them all.

“I see the Brady Bunch is here to escort you home,” Draco muttered dryly from beside her.
“With that, I will take my leave, darling.”

Harry leaned into his goodbye kiss, her eyes following him as he walked over to Narcissa
who stood awkwardly alone on the platform. She caught the older woman’s eye and smiled
sadly over at her. Narcissa nodded in acknowledgement before leading Draco out of the
station. There would be no seeing each other over the summer. Draco would write, but she
couldn’t see the Malfoys being up for entertaining over the coming months.

With a sigh, Harry then turned her attention back to her welcoming committee. “What are
you guys all doing here?”

Mr Weasley nudged Moody as they spotted the Dursleys staring at them in bewilderment.
“Shall we?”

----

As fun as it was to listen to the others threaten Vernon and Petunia, Harry still felt listless as
they drove back to Privet Drive. She stared out at the passing traffic of London, wondering
just how long it would be until the others found a reason for her to leave Privet Drive that
summer. Her only source of comfort was that as her birthday grew nearer, so did the time for
her to leave Privet Drive and the Dursley’s for good.
Chapter End Notes

So... who's ready for a very angst-filled Book 6 coming your way?
 Before The Storm
Chapter Notes

I'm back! Sorry, guys, I've been busy decluttering my house lately so I can move. But
I'm back, and entering sixth year before I crush hearts next chapter! Enjoy :)

Summer had never brought Harry much solace. She imagined that if Sirius had been allowed
into her life a lot earlier, it might have done. She envisioned riding down country lanes on the
back of Sirius’ motorbike, her hands clinging to his leather jacket and listening to him
laughing as he sped up. There would have been sleepovers at Grimmauld Place, which they
would have turned into a proper home rather than a museum to Sirius’ childhood and
prejudice. She might have enjoyed the prospect of leaving Hogwarts for the summer, rather
than dreading the sight of King’s Cross Station at the end of term. To return to a beaming
Sirius, happy and healthy on the platform rather than a grim-faced Vernon.

There were so many things that could have been, but now not even the idea of making up for
lost time would soothe the ache inside of Harry. Sirius was dead and had been for three
months. The others sent letters, of course, on a regular basis but none of them made her as
happy as one from Sirius would have. She didn’t even have a photograph of him to look back
on. The only one she had was a wanted poster of him screaming at the camera. That wasn’t
how she wanted to remember him. she considered asking Draco to see if his mother had an
old one somewhere, but she doubted it. Narcissa had cut ties from Sirius long before she had
become a Malfoy. There was a s slim chance one could be found in Grimmauld Place but the
thought of setting foot in the house without Sirius there unsettled her. she didn’t trust herself
not to drop-lick Kreacher either.

The sound of commotion downstairs stirred Harry from her thoughts and lured her
downstairs to where Professor Dumbledore stood in the hallway of Number 4, Privet Drive.

“Professor? Who died?” Harry asked warily.

Dumbledore chuckled softly as he focussed his attention away from Vernon to Harry.
“Nobody’s died, Harry. I’ve come to take you to The Burrow, as you well know. I take it you
didn’t inform your uncle of this?”

“Somehow I didn’t think I’d be missed,” she muttered dryly.

With a flick of the Headmaster’s wand, the Dursley’s were assembled and forced to sit on one
of the sofas in the living room whilst Dumbledore made himself at home on an armchair,
Harry standing at his side. “We have come across some issues that need to be addressed,
Harry dear. Firstly, we found Sirius’ will a week ago. It names you as his sole heir, so you get
everything.”
Harry could feel Vernon’s eyes focus on her, but she paid him no heed. “I see.”

“That legacy unfortunately, also includes number twelve, Grimmauld Place.”

“She’s been left a house?” Vernon asked greedily.

Harry rolled her eyes and sighed, “You can keep it. Too many house-elf heads for my liking
and not enough natural light."

“Very generous of you, but there is one slight issue. You see, Black tradition dictates that it is
passed down the direct line. Sirius was the very last descendant, and as he and his brother
Regulus died childless, it is possible that it could be enchanted to pass to any surviving
relatives.”

“You mean Bellatrix.”

The thought of Sirius’ killer owning his house made her blood boil. Her mind flickered back
to that night when the Cruciartus Curse had flown so freely from her lips. ‘I should have
killed her then’, she thought bitterly.

“There is a simple test to see if you can indeed inherit it though. You see, if you have indeed
inherited the house, you have also inherited-”

There was a sinister desire inside of Harry to throttle the house-elf that appeared suddenly in
the living room, stamping its foot in frustration. Kreacher’s lips curled upwards as he
shouted:“Kreacher won’t! Kreacher wants to belong to Miss Bellatrix. Kreacher belongs to
the Blacks. Not the horrid Potter brat. Kreacher won’t, won’t, won’t-”

“As you can see, Harry,” Dumbledore said loudly over Kreacher’s rantings. “Kreacher is
showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Harry considered the creature with utter disdain. Rationally, she
knew she would have to keep him. He couldn’t be allowed to roam free, and he couldn’t be
allowed to go to Bellatrix. He knew too much.

“Give him an order,” Dumbledore said once he saw the acceptance of her situation flash over
Harry’s face.

“Won’t! Won’t! Won’t!”

Harry pinched the bridge of her nose and snapped, “Kreacher, shut up!”

It satisfied Harry to see the creature look as if he was about to choke as he found himself
unable to protest any further. He fell to the ground and beat his fists against the carpet, much
to Petunia’s alarm, before Harry ordered him to work in Hogwarts’ kitchens where the other
house-elves would keep an eye on him. A small smile crossed her lips as she watched him
disappear, before her attention returned to the Headmaster.

“Was there anything else, Professor?”

“Yes. When we were leaving Grimmauld Place, I came across this. I know you own all of his
possessions now, but I thought you might appreciate this now.” Dumbledore then reached
into his robes and pulled out what looked like a leather jacket, and handed it to Harry.

Hesitantly, Harry held up the jacket to her nose and inhaled deeply the scent that was purely
Sirius. Leather, old cigarettes and expensive aftershave. She could feel her heart swell at the
familiar scent. It pulled at something ancient and buried in her memories, of things she was
too young to fully comprehend and wished she remembered. “Thank you,” she murmured
softly.

“You’re welcome, now why don’t you go get your things and we’ll be on our way.”

Without a second thought, Harry bolted up the stairs to grab her trunk and Hedwig, carefully
pulled on Sirius’ jacket before coming back downstairs again. The Dursley’s hadn’t moved,
but eyed Dumbledore warily.

“Ready, sir?”

“Just one last thing,” he said as he stood up from his seat and regarded the Dursley’s coldly.
“When I left Harry on your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter expressing my desire for
you to raise him as though he were your own, I expected you to follow them.”

Dumbledore didn’t raise his voice. Dumbledore rarely raised his voice, but it was the same
light and calm voice he used when dealing with Umbridge and Fudge in his office last year.
Harry could feel the tension in the room, it crept up along her spine but oddly, she wasn’t
perturbed by it.

“You have never treated Harry as a daughter. She has never known anything of love or
kindness in this house. For which, I will never forgive you. I entrusted her to you, and you
used that opportunity to abuse and neglect her.” Dumbledore paused, adjusting his glasses
slightly before continuing: “Thankfully, Harry comes of age next summer. Our business will
be concluded then, and she will no longer have any need of you.”

The Dursleys sat there stunned whilst Harry tried her best not hug the headmaster tightly.
Dumbledore seldom made such grand speeches about her, but it warmed her heart
nevertheless. Besides, it always made her smile to see the Dursley’s humbled -especially
before a powerful wizard.

“Now, Harry, let us be going. But first, we’re going on a little detour.” He magicked Harry’s
things away, transporting them to The Burrow for the time-being and left the house.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they stepped out onto the empty street.

“Oh, just to see an old friend.”

-----

Horace Slughorn was not what Harry had expected. Overweight and red-nosed, with various
signed photographs of his successful students and hiding in Muggles’ homes whilst they were
abroad.
It took mere seconds for the older man to recognise her, her scar poking out between her hair
and green eyes staring back at him. There was something in the way he looked at her though,
a familiarity, as he settled down on sofa once Dumbledore had left the room.

“Don’t think I don’t know why he’s brought you,” he said abruptly.

Harry shot him a pointed look. “Really? Because I don’t.”

“You shouldn’t have favourites as a teacher, but your mother was one of mine. Lily Evans.
One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she
ought to have been in my house. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”

“Which was your house?”

“Slytherin.”

Harry burst out into laughter. “Sorry, sir, but -I’m in Slytherin.”

Slughorn’s eyes lit up in delight. “Are you really? How very odd. It usually stays the same in
families. Although there was Sirius Black. Ever heard of him?”

Harry tugged the leather jacket tighter around her and murmured, “I might have done.”

“Yes, the whole Black family were in Slytherin until Sirius came along. Ended up in
Gryffindor! Shame – he was a talented boy. I got his brother, of course, but I’d have liked the
set. Even had Andromeda, the black sheep of the family, and she got disowned just like Sirius
did!” he chortled.

He sounded like some avid collector, and a part of Harry wondered if that particular trait was
what Dumbledore was hoping to lean on here with her presence. Harry tousled her hair and
sighed,

“Yes, I’m dating her nephew as it happens. Draco Malfoy.”

Slughorn considered her with interest. “Narcissa’s boy? No doubt he followed in his parents’
footsteps.”

“As I have mine,” she grinned. “He tries to keep me out of trouble.”

“Knowing your father, and the rumours I’ve heard about you, I imagine that to be an endless
task.”

Harry smirked, “Rather like trying to convince an old friend out of retirement.”

Slughorn shot her a pointed look. “Do you even know why he wants me back at Hogwarts?”

“Nope, but somehow I’d think a castle with three-square meals a day and not hiding inside a
couch is better than your current living conditions,” she muttered dryly.
The older man shook his head with a small smile of disbelief. “You are quite something, Miss
Potter.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Dumbledore re-entered the room and Slughorn jumped slightly, as if startled by the
Headmaster’s presence. “Do you mind if I take this? I do love knitting patterns,” he said as he
held up a magazine.

Slughorn stared at the other man perplexed. “Of course, but you’re not leaving already, are
you?”

“I know a lost cause when I see one, old boy. I would have considered a great personal
triumph if you consented to return to Hogwarts. Ah, well. You will always be welcome to
visit should you wish to.”

“Yes-but-Albus?”

“Goodbye then.”

Dumbledore turned to leave and the pair of them were just in the front door when Slughorn
appeared behind them, a little breathless and clutching the wall for breath. “Alright, alright,
I’ll do it!”

With an innocent smile, Dumbledore he looked back at the other man. “You’ll come out of
retirement?”

“Yes, yes, you win,” he grumbled. “But I want a better office, not the water closet I had
before!”

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore beamed. “Then, Horace, I shall see you at the start of term.”

“I’ll want a pay rise too!”

Harry couldn’t help but smirk as she watched Dumbledore shrug at the old professor’s
demands before the pair left the house for good. It was only when the garden gate shut behind
them that Dumbledore allowed himself to chuckle at what he had accomplish.

“Do I want to know what that was about?”

“You have just helped me convince Horace Slughorn to return to Hogwarts, Harry. A major
feat, I assure you. You see, you are and always have been something of a marvel. The Girl
Who Lived. The Chosen One. He was fascinated with your mother, of course, and is itching
to know just how alike you are. Professor Slughorn likes to collect people, you see. Students
with a special talent or flair for a certain subject. Many of which, you will have seen end up
benefitting him when they excel later in life.”

Harry thought back to the many photographs of ex-students that were littered around the
dresser. Famous, influential people and then in one small frame surrounded by other students
stood a Muggleborn witch with red hair and green eyes. She wondered if her mother had
been allowed to live, if she would have met up to Slughorn’s expectations of her.

“And now he wants to collect me?”

“Yes. You would be the jewel to his collection.”

“And I suppose there’s a reason why I should let him?”

Dumbledore grinned knowingly. “Naturally. It is in our best interests to keep Horace at

Hogwarts, and you in his good graces.”

“What does Voldemort want with Slughorn, sir?” she asked coyly.

“Professor Slughorn, Harry. Let’s just say the two of them have a history.”

Intrigued by his vague answer, Harry glanced up at him with a smirk. “You’re very sly for a
Gryffindor, Professor. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Dumbledore chuckled, “Once or twice. Now, take my arm and we can get you somewhere
safe.”

-----

The Burrow was the same as it always was, minus the presence of Fred and George who had
taken up a small flat in Diagon Alley to keep up with their new business. Harry missed their
combined voices greeting her as she entered the house, but still felt at ease as she felt the
instant warmth from the fire and the smell of Molly’s cooking. She was perhaps more
surprised by the presence of Fleur who seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the female
Weasley’s disliked her. Harry wasn’t sure what the problem was exactly, but she thought it
had something to do with the fact that Fleur was unnaturally pretty and didn’t seem to have a
care in the world. Even if she was part-Veela, there didn’t seem to be a sinister motive for her
wanting to marry Bill Weasley of all people.

Ginny’s face scrunched up in frustration as she tried to explain her dislike of her future sister-
in-law. They were sat on the grass in the Weasley’s garden amongst the gnomes and taking a
break from practicing for Quidditch.

“She’s just so…”

“So what?” Ron grunted.

“So French!”

“Well, now you’re just being xenophobic,” Harry muttered. “You didn’t have a problem with
her when we were in the Triwizard Tournament together.”

“That was different!” Hermione huffed.

Harry shot her a pointed look. “Weren’t you the one preaching about inter-school relations
back then? Or do we only care about that where hulky Bavarians are involved?”

Ginny scowled before Hermione could say anything, “Well, Mum’s going to put a stop to it if
she can. She keeps trying to get Tonks around for dinner. I’d much rather have her in the
family than Phlegm.”

With a sigh, Harry fell back against the grass and tuned out their mutterings about Fleur.
There were more important things going on in their world than Bill and his fiancé. For
starters, their OWLS had come and with her Potions' result she would never be allowed to do
Advanced Potions to become an Auror. Then there were the disappearances that Bill and
Arthur kept bringing up, much to Molly's dismay. So many people she knew were being
affected and it had only been a short time since Voldemort had returned. Olivander was gone,
and it saddened her to think she would no longer see that kind old man in Diagon Alley.
There was the effect of Sirius' death to consider as well. Images of his death still plagued her
on a nightly basis and she spent many a night waking up in a sweat or unable to breath. Once
or twice, Dudley had even convinced his parents out of the house so she could have some
time to grieve properly which was the kindest thing Dudley could ever have done for her in
the past fifteen years they had shared a house.

She thought back to Tonks, who had looked a hollow version of herself as she had sat in the
Weasley’s kitchen with her dark hair and pale pallor. She wondered if Hermione was right,
and it was because of Sirius. Did she bond with Sirius as Harry had done in stolen moments
over the past three years? They had been cousins, after all. Did she love him as strongly as
Harry had loved him? Perhaps she had, and the thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. She
closed her eyes and willed that feeling to fade away. It did not do well to be possessive of
dead men.
 Nothing Breaks Like A Heart
Chapter Notes

I think I'll apologise in advance for how this chapter ends. I did say Book/Movie 6
would bring the angst... :/

Diagon Alley was a ghost of its former self, an almost-abandoned line of stores with a
meagre footfall of customers, mostly students replenishing their stocks for the coming term.
The only true source of warmth and light was in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, which seemed
to be keeping the shopping district afloat with its tricks and treats. Harry smiled as she
wandered the store, impressed by the twins’ success in such a short time. The joke shop was
packed with customers, and Harry’s smile broadened into a grin as she recognised the names
of several products the twins had been trying last year at Hogwarts. The Nosebleed Nougat
was so popular that only battered box was left on the shelf. There were trick wands and
enchanted quills, and a whole stand dedicated Daydream Charms.

“That really is extraordinary magic,” Hermione admitted as she inspected the box.

“For that, Hermione,” a voice came from behind them. “You can have one for free.”

Harry laughed softly as she turned to find the twins standing behind them in matching pin-
striped robes and bowties. “Business is booming, I see.”

“All thanks to you, Harry dear. You should see our Shield Hats line! You wouldn’t believe the
amount of people who can’t do a simple Shield Charm. Made them as a joke, and then the
Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff,” Fred grinned.

“We’re thinking of expanding into the whole are of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Such a
money spinner, you know,” George added.

The twins continued explaining how their business was thriving as they gave Harry a tour of
the store, until they returned to where Hermione and Ginny were standing around a stand for
love potions.

“Do they work?” Hermione asked skeptically.

Fred snorted. “Of course, they do. For up to twenty-four hours. Then again, sis, from what
we’ve heard you’ve got no problems there.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Ron told you, didn’t he?”

“Are you or are you not dating Dean Thomas?”

“Yeah, I am. So what?”

Before the twins could reply, Ron appeared holding a couple of boxes. “How much for this?”

“Five galleons.”

“But I’m your brother,” he pouted.

The twins looked at each other and reiterated: “Ten galleons.”

Ron huffed and put the box down. “How comes Harry doesn’t have to pay then?”

“Because, brother dear, she is our angel investor and therefore she can get all the free
products she likes. When you give us money like that, you won’t pay either. Till then, that’ll
be ten galleons.”

“Sorry, Ron,” Harry chuckled. She froze as she turned around and spotted a familiar head of
blonde hair walk past the store window.

There were dark rings under Draco’s eyes, as if he hadn’t slept properly in weeks. There was
no sign of Narcissa, who Harry doubted would have let him go to Diagon Alley alone after
what had happened. She could have sworn that he saw her, but then he was walking quickly
down the street again. ‘Why hasn’t he come to find me?’ she wondered.

Ron followed her gaze and frowned, “Is it just me or does Malfoy not look like he’s here for
school supplies?”

A sense of dread filled Harry as she watched her boyfriend sneak away, and without a second
thought she was dragging Hermione and Ron outside and under the Invisibility Cloak. They
followed him down Knockturn Alley, until they came to Borgin and Burkes, a shop that
appeared to sell a wide variety of sinister-looking objects.

“What the hell’s he doing in there?” she whispered.

“Maybe Draco’s been working for him over the summer?” Hermione suggested weakly.

“Malfoy? Work?” Ron snorted before Hermione jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

“No. No, he would have told me,” Harry said distantly.

“Would he though?”

Annoyingly, Ron was right. Draco had been a little distant lately, his letters becoming
infrequent and less-informative about how he was passing the time. She knew it was difficult
for him. His father had been in Azkaban for over a month or so now, and he had to go
through the trial alone. She had asked him if he wanted her there, but he had refused. She
didn’t ask twice. Maybe he had turned to Borgin, the oily-haired, stooping man she spied
through the window, for support. Maybe he was earning his keep by working for the man.
Maybe. But something didn’t feel right about that, and it nagged at Harry’s brain and worried
at her heart.
‘What are you up to, Draco?’ she thought before leading the others back to the joke shop.

----

The heightened security around Harry as they made their way through Kings Cross was
annoying to say the least, without Molly trying to hold onto her at every given moment as if
she’d lose the teenager to the smoke of the train. Then things only irritated Harry further
when she stepped onto the train and was met with the stares of the other students, whilst
Hermione and Ron disappeared to the Prefect’s apartment. With a huff, she slouched against
the seat of a quiet compartment she’d found, the only other occupants being Neville and
Luna. Mostly quiet occupants who would either talk about plants or imaginary beasts. Harry
closed her eyes, and nodded off to the sound of their talking and the quiet lull of the train.

-----

Harry hadn’t been lying when she’d told Dumbledore that Voldemort hadn’t entered her
dreams of late. He no longer sent her dreams were his hands roamed her body and he kissed
her despite her protests. He still appeared in her subconscious though, just as he was now:
sitting across from her in the train, dressed in his Slytherin robes at the same age he had
appeared to her in Second Year.

His signature smirk was in place as he caught her gaze. “Such a pity,” he drawled.

“What are you prattling about?” she huffed.

“You should be with your own kind, not sat with the mudbloods and blood traitors.”

She tugged Sirius jacket closer around her body, as if to protect herself from his gaze.
“You’re a half-blood, Tom. You can’t say shit. And this lot are much better than the company
you keep.” Her eyes lingered on the dark hickey the poked out from his shirt collar.

He followed her gaze then leered at her. “Jealous?”

“Of you fucking a murderer? Hardly,” she snorted. “Besides, have you forgotten I’m spoken
for? Doesn’t your bigoted mind dictate that I belong to him or something?”

A strange look crossed his face as he tilted his head to rake his eyes over her. “For now.”

-----

“Something’s up with your boyfriend,” Ron grunted as he plopped down beside her, startling
Harry awake.

“What?”

“Malfoy wasn’t at the meeting. He’s just sat with the other Slytherins,” Hermione explained.

Harry frowned. Draco loved being a prefect, loved the power and authority it gave him. For
him to not turn up to something like that, seemed so oddly out of character for him. Before
Harry could ask them anything else though, a breathless Third Year young girl opened the
compartment door.

“I’m supposed to give these to Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter,” she panted. Harry was
disappointed that once again her notoriety had got in the way of her overthinking.

------

Slughorn hadn’t wasted much time in collecting students, Harry noted as she stepped into the
compartment to find Blaise, two other boys as well as bewildered-looking Ginny. Blaise’s
face lit up as Slughorn greeted her, sending her a friendly wink as she sat down along the
bench.

“Now, do you know everyone,” Slughorn asked. “Blaise Zabini, of course is in our house,
Harry. Cormac McLagen, and Marcus Belby. And this charming young lady says she knows
you too.”

Harry bit her lip, trying to hold back her laughter as Ginny slunk back against the seat in
embarrassment. She turned her attention back to the other boys, and wondered why they had
been ‘collected’. Neville wasn’t exactly a star student in anything but Herbology, but his
parents’ torture might have caught Slughorn’s appeal somehow. Or perhaps, Slughorn wanted
to learn more about the other child the prophecy could have spoken of. With a glance to
Neville, she didn’t think that his interest was much appreciated by the boy.

Slughorn liked to interrogate the people he was interested in, Harry discovered as she listened
to him probe Marcus Belby for information. Belby, it seemed wasn’t as interesting as
Slughorn had hoped with estranged uncle, before Slughorn turned his attention to Cormac.

“Now you, Cormac. I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a
rather splendid photograph of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?”

Harry wanted to roll her eyes when she listened to Cormac name-drop the new Minister of
Magic into the conversation. She knew why Blaise had been summoned, of course, what with
his mother’s history. Giulia Zabini was a witch known for two things: her money, and the
number of husbands she had had who all mysteriously died after an acceptable amount of
time. Blaise had no qualms about his mother’s reputation, and the other Slytherins knew
better than to ask awkward questions. Harry, on the other hand, could sense that the rumours
still beguiled Slughorn enough to extend an invitation to her son.

“And now,” Slughorn said as he shifted to face Harry. “Harriet Potter! Where to begin? I feel
I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer.”

Harry tilted her head as she glanced at him. “I’m not sure what you mean, Professor.”

“The Chosen One, isn’t that what the Daily Prophet’s calling you?”

Harry noted that the others were staring at her, except for Blaise who watched her with a
wary look. She knew if Slughorn probed too closely to sensitive subjects, she could rely on
her fellow Slytherin to leap to her defence.
“I’ve never really put much stock in what the Prophet has to say, Professor,” she muttered
dryly. “Last year they were calling me an attention-seeking whore and Dumbledore was off
his rocker. Not exactly hard-cutting journalism.”

Slughorn laughed weakly. “Just as sharp-tongued as your mother, I see.”

Harry was startled slightly. Very few people ever said she shared anything about her mother
other than her eyes. She thought back to the girl from Snape’s memory, of Lily standing up to
James and Snape. Her lip twitched as she tried to conceal her smile. Perhaps Slughorn was
more perceptive than she had originally thought.

------

She couldn’t resist it. As they left Slughorn’s compartment, her eyes drifted to the Slytherin
compartment and she felt a pull against her heart as she caught sight of blonde hair through
the window. Rationally, she could have simply walked straight into the compartment and
pulled him aside but a part of her wanted to know what he was hiding from her, what he was
possibly confiding in Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise. With that thought in mind, she flung her
Invisibility Cloak over her and slipped into the compartment behind Blaise. The first thing
she saw made her want to wrench off the Cloak and scream bloody murder.

Draco’s head was in Pansy’s lap, his stare blank as he stared up at the ceiling as she played
with the pale blonde strands of his hair. ‘He is mine’, a voice growled in the back of her head
as she snarled at the sight. With a huff, she managed to haul herself up onto the luggage rack
without being seen and listened intently to the conversation below.

“What did Slughorn want?”

“Just wanted to meet some well-connected people,” Blaise sighed. “Your girl was there, of
course.”

Draco scowled, “Of course, she was. Bloody vultures, feeding off her fame.” He glanced up
at Pansy and batted her hand away, sitting upright suddenly. “How did she look?”

Blaise shot him a pointed look. “She looked as she always does when people try and probe
her about traumatic events. I think she was more surprised you weren’t there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’m exactly welcome at social events anymore. Besides, I might not
even be at Hogwarts next year so what does it matter?” he huffed.

Blaise considered his friend with a curious stare. “And why is that?”

“Just that there might be other things out there for me. Not everyone out there cares how
many OWLS or NEWTS you have.”

The taller boy straightened in his seat and sighed: “Does Harry know about this?”

“I don’t tell Harry everything, you know,” he muttered bitterly.

“Well, maybe you should. She loves you, mate, and Merlin knows what she’ll do for the
people she loves.”

Draco winced, rubbing his eye with heel of his hand as he considered Blaise’s words. “I
know that better than anyone, Blaise. Don’t you worry.”

Harry’s foot shifted along the luggage rack, slightly moving Blaise’s backpack. Draco’s eyes
lifted to where she was lying, squinting up at her for a moment before the train whistled as
they pulled into Hogsmeade Station. She watched the others grab their luggage before slowly
emptying the compartment, whilst Harry lay stuck on the luggage rack.

Pansy and Blaise hovered in the doorway, looking back at Draco who was still sat down.
“You go on ahead. There’s something I need to check.”

Harry watched as the others left, leaving only the two of them in the compartment. Draco
closed the door and pulled down the blinds. “I know you’re there, Harry,” he said softly.

Lifting off the cloak, Harry frowned before sliding off the luggage rack and ungracefully
landing on the floor. “How did you know it was me?”

Draco said nothing, but gestured to the cloak. “So, this is how you’ve been sneaking around
the school the last five years, huh?”

“Neat, ain’t it? It was Dad’s.”

He nodded. “I see. Father’s do leave the strangest gifts, don’t they?” he murmured as he
helped her to her feet.

“Speaking of fathers… how’s yours?”

Draco’s face fell and he released her hand instantly. His eyes narrowed and his lip curled into
a sneer. “As well as can be expected,” he answered coldly. “Prison doesn’t exactly agree with
him.”

Her face fell instantly at his harsh tone. “Hey, I was only asking! What’s the matter with
you?”

He said nothing at first then finally he said: “I think it might be better if we were to end our
relationship.”

Harry stilled, her heart clenched at his words. “Are you-you’re breaking up with me? Why?
What did I do?”

He turned away from her slowly, running a hand through his blonde hair in frustration. “I-
I’ve been thinking over the summer. About us. About this war. We’ve been fooling ourselves
to think it wouldn’t affect us.”

Harry swallowed thickly as she tried to keep her anger at bay, “Affect us? You don’t think I
know this war hasn’t affected us. I’ve lost my parents. I’ve nearly died a dozen times. I
watched my godfather die in front of me-!”
“My father’s in Azkaban!” he snapped.

“That wasn’t my fault!”

Draco groaned in frustration, “Fuck! I know that! This summer hasn’t exactly been easy for
me, you know? The trial and everything. Mother’s been under a lot of stress lately. Not to
mention, our house was raided twice by those incompetent fucks.”

“Twice? Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she asked softly, reaching out with her hand to
touch his arm.

His lips curled upwards into a snarl, moving out of her reach. “You shouldn’t be concerned
about the troubles of a Death Eater’s son.”

“Concerned?! Of course, I’m concerned, Draco, I love you-!”

He turned to leave, but Harry’s hand shot out to grab his arm. He hissed in pain at her touch,
and without a second thought, she pulled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark pulsating
against his pale skin.

“No…”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to avoid her gaze.

“Nothing? That bastard fucking branded you!”

Draco snatched his arm away, hiding his forearm quickly beneath his sleeve once more. “I
don’t know why you’re so surprised. It was bound to happen someday.”

“This isn’t like joining your old man’s country club, Draco. If he marks you, he owns you.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flickering to the scar on her forehead. “That from personal
experience, Harry?”

“Don’t you dare compare my scar to that mark. Why the hell would you even want to-?” Her
voice trailed off as realisation dawned on her. “He made you, didn’t he? As punishment for
your dad getting caught, he made you join him.”

Draco adjusted his blazer and huffed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Harry nodded slowly, knowing that this had Voldemort written all over it. “I see… it’s not
enough that he’s taken my parents and my godfather, but now-now he’s trying to take you
away from me too!” she wailed.

“He isn’t doing anything.”

“Really? You’re seriously telling me that this was all your idea?” she snorted. “Not the work
of a madman who last year was sending me dreams of him touching me up?!”

Draco winced. “I don’t pretend to know the Dark Lord’s whims,” he replied coolly.
Wiping away her tears, she murmured, “The Dark Lord, huh?” She glanced down at the
charm bracelet he’d given her on her wrist, the charms glinting back at her almost mockingly.
“So, that’s it then? After everything we’ve been through…?”

Draco opened his mouth, his face contorted with guilt for a moment before he simply sighed
and nodded. “Goodbye, Harry Potter,” he said softly before picking up his bag and walking
out the compartment door.

Harry watched him leave; her heart caught in her throat before she fell to her knees. She felt
as though the earth had crumbled beneath her feet, her whole world crashing down around
her as his words echoed in her ear. Holding her hand over her heart, she swore she could feel
it breaking. ‘Mum. Dad. Sirius. Draco… they’re all gone’.

The train whistled and lurched as the engines began to start up again. She barely
comprehended the compartment door being flung open and Tonks striding through the
doorway.

“Merlin, kid, what happened?” she asked.

“I have no idea…” she whispered before bursting into tears.

 The Fallout
Chapter Notes

Post-breakup tears and aftermath as more people learn about the breakup. Enjoy!

She had never quite appreciated the distance between Hogsmeade station and Hogwarts until
she was trudging alongside Tonks, trying to dry her tears. It was cold and dark, and quite
frankly Harry wished that Tonks was back to her usual self and rather than this gloomy shell
she saw before her. But still, it was nice to have someone to blurt out what had happened on
the train to.

“Damn, kid. That’s harsh,” Tonks muttered as soon as Harry managed to get her story out.

“No kidding,” Harry shuddered as she tugged Sirius’ jacket closer around her. “What you
doing here anyway? You on babysitting duty too?”

Tonks scoffed, “Yeah, so you’ll probably be seeing me around. Proudfoot, Savage and
Dawlish are kicking about too.”

Eventually they came to the gates of the grounds, but found them chained shut. With a sigh,
Tonks produced a Patronus which shot up the path towards the castle. For a moment, Harry
could swear that it almost resembled some kind of dog.

“Should I just sleep out here or something?”

Tonks laughed softly, “Don’t worry, someone’s coming for you. Look.”

Harry pulled back the Invisibility Cloak and groaned loudly at the black figure coming
towards them. “Oh, not you!”

“I could just as easily leave you out here, Potter,” Snape drawled. “But I don’t suppose the
Headmaster would approve.”

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath. If it wasn't so cold, she might have actually
considered sleeping outside rather than dealing with Snape so late in the evening.

Tonks growled next to her, “That was meant for Hagrid.”

“Incidentally, Hagrid was also late for the feast,” he sneered as he unlocked the gates. “And I
just couldn’t wait to see your new Patronus.

He pulled Harry inside the gates and shut them loudly in Tonks’ face. “Personally, I think you
were better with the old one. This one looks awfully weak.”
Tonks’s face flushed angrily and for a brief moment, Harry wondered if she would attack
Snape before the Auror turned away from the gates. Harry tried her best to keep up with
Snape, and muttered bitterly, “Good to see you’re an asshole to everyone, Professor.”

“Fifty points for lateness, I think,” Snape said eventually.

“I’m in your House, dumbass.”

Snape glared down at her. “I suppose you wanted to make a spectacle of yourself by arriving
late. What? Were the events of last year not enough to bolster your ego?”

Harry bit her tongue, trying to not allow her anger to boil over but his mere presence irked
her. It reminded her of how he goaded Sirius with his taunts last year. How he hadn’t opened
the door to her when she’d tried to tell him Sirius was in danger. Her rage called to her to
bring out her wand and use the spell she had used only once before. To see him writhing in
agony seemed justifiable for all the things he had done. He tormented his own students,
sneered at Harry for something that was beyond her control, and was a Death Eater. She
didn’t care if Dumbledore trusted him or not, if she ever got the chance to destroy him, she
would do it without a second thought.

“Professor, do me a favour and kindly shut the fuck up,” she muttered eventually as they
stood outside the Great Hall. Without a second glance at him, she entered the Great Hall with
her head held high and her cheeks tear-stained.

Ignoring the looks sent her way by students and professors alike, Harry sat down beside
Daphne and Millicent who eyed her puffy eyes warily. She caught Hermione and Ron’s gazes
from across the tables and smiled sadly at them, silently promising to fill them in after the
feast. She hoped she’d be able to keep the tears at bay that long. Glancing up the table, she
saw Draco’s familiar blonde head and the despondent look as he twirled his fork around idly.

“I am delighted to welcome back Professor Horace Slughorn who has kindly agreed to take p
his old post as Potions Master.”

Harry froze. “Don’t say it…” she muttered under her breath.

“Therefore, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor is none other than our very
own Professor Snape.”

Snape smirked lazily, enjoying the applause that erupted from the Slytherin table with the
exception of Harry. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, the pair of them sharing a
narrowed gaze before the applause died down.

“Fuck my life,” she growled as she buried her head in her hands.

----

As everyone left the Great Hall for the evening, she felt a hand pull her away from Daphne
and Millicent. She exhaled loudly as she realised it was Ron’s large hand on her bicep who
pulled her into an alcove with Hermione.
“Harry, what happened to you? We thought you’d already left the train and-and-have you
been crying?” Hermione spluttered.

“Draco dumped me.”

“He what?” Ron snapped, his head seeking out the blonde head in the crowd instantly. “I’ll
kill him.”

Hermione instantly put an arm around her and scolded Ron. “Honestly, Ronald, not now.
What do you mean he dumped you? Why?”

“He said things were too hard at home but-but I know he’s behind this. He- oh Merlin,
Hermione- his arm,” she whimpered before bursting into tears again.

“His arm?” she asked as she embraced her friend tightly.

“He has the mark,” Harry whispered into her hair. “The Dark Mark.”

Hermione froze, her arms clinging to Harry tighter. “Oh, Harry… I’m so sorry.”

Harry’s crying earned the trio much attention from passers-by for a moment or two until a
wall of Slytherins erected itself around them. They stayed there, hiding Harry, until her cries
dwindled down into a quiet snuffling against Hermione’s shoulder. As they began disperse,
Daphne and Millicent waited expectantly until Harry released Hermione and turned to leave.

“Harry…”

“Don’t worry, Granger, we’ve got this,” Daphne murmured softly as she placed an arm
around Harry’s waist. Hermione and Ron nodded, watching as the Slytherins led Harry to the
dungeons.

----

“What did you do?” Blaise demanded as they entered the common room, cornering Draco.
He had heard the commotion from the others and had stormed ahead to catch up with the
blonde who seemed to want to avoid Harry at all costs.

“What?”

“Well, clearly you must have done something to her otherwise she wouldn’t have looked so
distraught at the feast.”

Draco sighed wearily, “You mean Harry.”

“Of course, I mean Harry. You see, our sweet Harriet was perfectly fine when she left
Slughorn’s compartment not two hours ago. You stayed behind on the train. She was late to
the feast. It doesn’t take a genius to work out something happened between you two,” he
snapped. “So, I’ll ask again: what did you do?”

“Nothing really, we just broke up is all.”

Blaise blinked then laughed nervously. “I’m so sorry, I thought you said you broke up with
her.”

“I did.”

It was a rare thing to see Blaise Zabini angry, yet the staggering students seemed not to want
to witness it as they suddenly cleared the common room. “Are you out of your caviar-fed
mind?! You don’t just break up with The Girl Who Lived. You certainly don’t do it during the
height of an all-out war in which she is to play saviour. Are you trying to shatter any hope of
her actually winning this or were we just bored today?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t like that. We just-we’re not compatible anymore.”

“Not compatible? You’re a blonde, privileged prat with family ties to domestic terrorism.
She’s an emerald-eyed goddess with a shitty childhood and liberal views. But that’s never
stopped you two from necking each other for the past five years.”

“Blaise, please!” the blonde snapped. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”

“Better for whom?”

Draco said nothing before walking silently to the dormitories. Blaise huffed out of frustration
before following after him, hoping that this was a short-term situation like the last time. They
would be at each other’s throats and mouths again within weeks. He didn’t really believe that,
but he desperately wanted to.

----

Harry felt numb as she lay in the darkness of the dorm room. Daphne and Millicent had
watched her warily from the bathroom door as she had brushed her teeth and changed.
Surprisingly Pansy didn’t say a word, and for that Harry thanked whoever had threatened her
into silence. It did little though to solve the ache in her heart. A fresh tear fell onto her pillow
as she thought about how she was going to face the others in the morning. How was she
going to spend every day with the boy who had broken her heart?

-----

The bed dipped as someone joined her on the bed, and Harry’s eyes flickered awake as she
felt a hand gently caress her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Voldemort
on the edge of her bed. He was dressed not so differently to how Draco had been on the train,
but his hair was longer and tied back with a black ribbon. His eyes remained the same
venomous red she was familiar with.

“What-?”

“Insolent boy,” he muttered bitterly. “Breaking such a tender heart. Does he not realise you
are worth a thousand of him?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spat.

He stared at her with something akin to tenderness. “I know you, Harry Potter. I know you
better than anyone else in this world. I know that your heart is aching right now because that
boy broke it.”

“On your orders!”

“No. Breaking your heart serves me no advantage in this war,” he said softly. “I prefer you
whole. Beautiful and strong-willed. The perfect adversary.”

Harry shook her head. “All you ever care about is this fucking war.”

“Such a pity, you can’t even see that this war means nothing without you. The only people
who truly matter in this world are me and you. Everybody else are just pawns.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she let out a shudder, covering her eyes with her arm. “If this is
you being kind, Tom, knock it off. I can’t deal with you being kind.”

“I can be kind, darling girl. If you would only let me,” he whispered.

Morning came all too quickly and she was soon blindly finding her glasses on the bedside
table to take in the dorm room. The others were already getting ready for the day, but had left
out her uniform for her and a cup of tea was at her bedside. Harry glanced at where
Voldemort had been sat in her dream, and sighed in relief to see there was no visible dent in
the mattress. ‘What are you up to, Tom?’ she wondered.

----

By the time Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, most of the school had already
heard the news. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had broken up. Rumours flitted about the
Great Hall and passed Harry’s ears which she attempted to tune out. Some thought it was
because she had Lucius arrested. Some thought Harry had done the dumping. Only a select
few knew the details though, and they watched the pair warily as they sat on opposite sides of
the Slytherin table. Harry stared longingly at Draco before her sight was blocked by Blaise,
whose large hand covered her shoulder.

“Is this where you tell me he’s an idiot for dumping me?” she muttered dryly.

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Oh, he is an idiot but I don’t think telling you that will help any. How
you holding up anyway?”

“I feel empty.”

Blaise nodded. “Want me to kick his pampered arse for you?”

“As much as a duel over my honour would amuse me, I don’t think it’d achieve anything,”
she sighed wearily. “He won’t come back to me because you beat him to a pulp.”

“Do you want him to take you back?”

Harry shrugged and sipped at her coffee. “Take me back makes it seem like I did something
wrong. What I want is for him to remember that he loves me, and we promised nothing
would change that.”

Blaise contemplated her words for a moment before asking: “Have you considered he’s doing
that annoying thing of trying to protect you?”

“Obviously. Maybe at some point I’ll thank him for it, but right now I just feel numb,” she
murmured. “And I’m not sure what to do or how long it’ll take till I don’t feel that way.”

“Well, let me know if you figure it out. I hate seeing you like this,” he muttered before
placing a kiss to the top of her head and leaving the table.

For a moment, Harry swore she caught Draco watching her before he returned to his
conversation with Theo Nott.

----

Despite the constant ache in her heart, Harry found herself laughing at the other students who
were trying their best to get to class. It had been an interesting morning so far. She had
already dealt with Snape in his new role, gushing over the Dark Arts like a schoolgirl with a
crush. Distantly, she wished that the cursed role would take Snape sooner rather than later.
Not to mention, she’d managed to get out of detention with Snape because of Dumbledore
and his private lessons. Now, she stood on the ledge of one of the walls with Ron, both
delighted with the fact they had free period, watching as McGonagall tried to direct various
students to the right classrooms. It didn’t take long for her cat-like eyes to find her though.

“I was told I needed an Outstanding to continue Potions.”

McGonagall smirked, “Yes, that was when Professor Snape was teaching you. Professor
Slughorn however would be more than happy to have you in his class with your Exceeds
Expectations.”

Harry blinked, wondering if this was another of Dumbledore’s whims to get her closer to
Slughorn. “Ah. Right then, I best be going.”

“Oh and, Potter, take Weasley with you. He looks much too happy standing there.”

With a curt nod, Harry grabbed Ron by the arm and dragged him in the direction of
Slughorn’s classroom.

----

Slughorn’s classroom seemed much more inviting than Snape’s had been, with strange smells
already emitting from the four cauldrons set up in front of the portly professor. There were
only a select few who were gathered in the classroom, which was understandable considering
Snape’s harsh marking. As Slughorn turned to face his new students though, she noted the
way his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Ah, Harry! I thought I’d see you here.”

“Yes, sorry, Professor, the corridors can be frightfully crowded on first day of term,” she
replied calmly as she pulled Ron further into the classroom.

“Very good. Now, just gather around here and we can sort out your books later.”

At the back of the classroom, she spied Draco trying his best to avoid her gaze. She followed
suit, joining Hermione and Ron around Slughorn and his cauldrons.

“Right, now can anyone tell me what these are?” Slughorn asked as he stood over the four
cauldrons.

She wasn’t surprised as Hermione’s hand shot up to answer: “Veritaserum – truth serum.
Polyjuice Potion, which is extremely hard to make. And this one… Amortentia. The most
powerful love potion in the world. It smells of what attracts us. For example, I smell…
freshly mown grass, parchment and spearmint toothpaste.”

Harry took a whiff of the Amortentia and found herself smiling dreamily at the mixture and
its moonstone-like sheen. It smelt like broom polish, some kind of sugary sweetness, and the
roses at Malfoy Manor. Distantly, she remembered the heart-shaped vials at the twins’ store.
‘No wonder they were so popular’, she thought with a wry grin.

Slughorn chuckled, “Well done, Miss Granger. Now, Amortentia cannot create actual love but
it does cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. And for that reason, it is probably the most
dangerous potion in this room.”

“Sir?” Lavender Brown piped up. “You haven’t told us about this one.”

Slughorn smiled as he turned to the final cauldron that seemed to be bubbling molten gold in
its confines. “This is Felix Felicius, or more commonly known as-?”

“Liquid Luck.”

“Precisely. Which is today’s prize to whichever individual manages to produce a draught of

Living Death. An extremely difficult concoction to make, but nevertheless I think a perfect
start to the term,” he smirked.

Harry glanced around the room, noting the way that Draco suddenly seemed to be giving
Slughorn his full undivided attention. Furrowing her brow, she wondered why he was so
interested in it all of a sudden. Maybe it had to do with what Voldemort wanted with him.

“Oh, and Harry dear. You and your friend can find textbooks in that cupboard back there. It’s
just the Advanced Potions one.”

-----

Harry weighed the Felix Felicius in the palm of her hand, noting the looks of envy she got
from everyone as they filed out of the classroom. Hermione looked frazzled after the lesson,
her hair in more disarray than it usually was. Harry tried not to smirk at her irritation that
Harry, of all people, had created something so perfectly when she had failed so miserably.
Given the past five years of outstanding grades, she would have thought Hermione’s ego
could take just a little hit in this instance.

“It could be another diary, you know,” Hermione sniffed as they headed for their next class.

Harry shrugged. “Yes, but it’s not Tom’s handwriting.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that. It makes him seem…”

“Human? Well, at least when I call him that, nobody flinches at his name. Besides, this way
no one really knows who I’m talking about.”

Ron grunted, “I’m with Harry on this one. Besides, you’re just pissed off this Prince bloke
knows what he’s talking about.”

“I am not!” Hermione replied hotly. “I just think that we should be wary, that’s all. There’s no
telling what lengths he’d stoop to in order to hurt you.”

Harry’s eyes lingered on Draco whispering with Theo Nott. She thought back to her dream
and Voldemort’s words as his eyes raked over her, and pursed her lips. “Oh, don’t worry, I
know.”
 Understanding A Villain

The only thing that had kept Harry going through the day had been the knowledge that
Dumbledore was waiting for her. Dumbledore was finally trusting her secrets and lessons, not
sending her off to the dungeons with Snape instead. Her heart still ached but as she entered
the headmaster’s office, she felt it numb just a little. He sat at his desk, staring down at his
blackened hand with a grim expression before his head lifted and a smile broke out across his
lips at the sight of her.

“Ah, Harry! Right on time. How has your first week back been? Busy, I presume. One week
in and already a detention under your belt.”

“What can I say? I am my father’s daughter.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled above his fond smile, “Indeed. Well, I’ve postponed your
detention with Professor Snape till next Saturday instead.”

“Oh, goodie,” she muttered dryly as she sat herself down across from his desk.

Dumbledore considered her for a moment before he leaned back into his chair. “I was sorry to
hear about you and young Mr Malfoy though,” he murmured softly.

Harry stilled, her hands tightening around the arms of the chair as she scowled, “Is this where
you tell me there are other fish in the sea?”

“Not at all. Believe it or not, Harry, but I was young and in love myself once.”

“What happened?”

Dumbledore smiled sadly, “We believed we were going to change the world. We just had
some different ideas on how that should be done.”

Harry considered the headmaster for a moment before deciding she was done talking about
Draco. “So, what are these lessons we’ll be having? Not more Occlumency I hope.”

“No, I thought it was time that you fully understood just who we are dealing with. Why did
Voldemort try and kill you fifteen years ago? Who was Tom Riddle before he became
Voldemort. This is what I hope to teach you in the coming weeks.”

Her eyes looked over at the Pensieve in the corner of the office and she pursed her lips. “Will
it help me…survive?”

“I certainly hope so.”

-----

Harry considered the memory of Merope Gaunt, how frail and unkempt she had been under
the rule of her father. There was a glimmer of something in her that could have made her
pretty if she had been allowed to flourish in a loving household. She frowned at the memory
of Marvolo striking Merope. Harry wondered if what she had seen in the memory was merely
just a glimpse at what Merope endured from her father and brother. Her mind flashed to her
own memory of Uncle Vernon’s belt and she winced, shaking her head to clear it.

“So, Merope…sir, was she Voldemort’s mother?”

Dumbledore nodded. “She was. And the young man you saw, was his father.”

She remembered Voldemort talking about his father in the graveyard. It was his grave that
she had been pinned to. It seemed strange to think that she had seen his grave before his face,
but she could see where Voldemort had inherited his looks from. It seemed such a strange
match then, for the handsome young man to end up with the waif that was Merope.

“How did she end up with Voldemort’s father then? I mean, no offence but-” She paused and
her mind flickered back to the smells in Slughorn’s classroom. “She used a love potion,
didn’t she?”

“That is one theory, and perhaps a more romantic one that might have appealed to her. It
wouldn’t have been too difficult, of course. In any case, within a few months of the scene we
just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can
imagine the gossip it caused when the squire’s son ran off with the tramp’s daughter.”

Harry could imagine it all too well. She imagined the dazed look in Merope’s eyes as the pair
walked through the village, holding hands, as her bewitched Tom gazed back at her. Merope
would have been the source of much gossip and scathing comments, but Harry doubted that
had mattered much. Merope had been happy, for a short time.

“She died, didn’t she? I remember he grew up in an orphanage.”

“She did. A year into their marriage, Tom Riddle Senior returned home without his wife.
Perhaps she believed he had fallen in love with her naturally, or had begun to feel guilty for
her actions. Whatever the case, the magic she had cast had worn off and he abandoned
Merope whilst she was pregnant with their son.”

Harry scowled, “Bastard.”

Dumbledore smiled sadly, “Unfortunately, the first time he met his son was also the last.
Voldemort killed his father at the beginning of your Fourth Year, along with his half-siblings
and step-mother.”

For reasons that raged against everything she stood for, Harry could understand Voldemort’s
resentment towards Muggles. Had he convinced himself that his father had fled his mother
after learning of her magic? Did this really all stem from an abused girl with an old name and
an obsessive love?

“Sir, why are you teaching me all this?” she sighed.

“I believe it was the Muggle writer Dostoevsky who said ‘nothing is easier than to denounce
the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him.”

Harry glanced back down at the headmaster’s blackened hand, slightly confused, and bid him
a goodnight.

----

The wind nipped at Harry’s cheeks as she awaited the try-outs for the Slytherin Quidditch
team. Somehow, she had been named Captain and with that, came the horrible job of
selecting the new recruits. She had a clipboard in hand, scribbling down all the names when a
hand landed on her shoulder.

“I must say, the leather of your uniform really does wonders for your figure,” a familiar voice
purred.

“Fuck off, Zabini, I’m busy,” she muttered without looking up from her clipboard.

“Temper, temper. I just wanted to make sure you’re aware that our presence has been
requested by Slughorn for supper in his rooms this weekend.”

Harry frowned, “Supper in his rooms? What for?”

“To bask in the notoriety of our reputations, I suppose. Now, are you coming or not, because I
really don’t want to be the only Slytherin there.”

A part of Harry wanted to say no, but she remembered Dumbledore’s orders to get close to
Slughorn and sighed, “I suppose.”

“Fabulous!” he said before pecking her on the cheek. “Oh, he also wants you to bring
Granger with you,” he added as he sat down on the bleachers.

“What? Fine, just sit there and shut up.”

Harry then lifted her head to the huddled masses of applicants, noting the several Ravenclaws
and Hufflepuffs still dotted around the field. She even spied Cormac McLaggen on the
stands, possibly scouting out the competition. ‘Cocky’, Harry thought considering
Gryffindor’s try-outs weren’t for another day. He caught her gaze and she swore she saw him
wink at her.

“Anyone not in Slytherin, get the fuck out,” she bellowed.

She heard Blaise snicker behind her as the onlookers from other houses hurried away, whilst
the applicants seemed to stand just a little bit straighter. She smirked. Perhaps her reputation
was a good thing.

Blaise, to his credit, remained silent for the rest of the try-outs. She could feel him smirking
behind her though as she shouted herself hoarse at the many complainers of rejected
applicants.
“That’s my final decision. Any complaints, you can take them to Professor Snape and see if
he gives a shit about your egos,” she roared.

Blaise let out a low whistle, marvelling at her ferocity. Harry sat back down beside him as the
applicants for Keepers took to the field. “Anyone ever tell you, you’re very sexy when you’re
angry,” he mused.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Draco sat on the bleachers with a strange look on his
face. “How is he?” she asked softly.

She heard him sigh wearily beside her. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’d say he’s depressed
but… I’ve seen him every time you ended up in the Hospital Wing. I saw him when his dad
went to Azkaban. This isn’t that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Fear. Our boy is in fear for his life right now, and you and I both know there’s only one
person who could be behind it.”

Harry exhaled loudly. She wanted to drag Draco by his blonde roots to the dungeons, wrap
him in blankets and seal the door shut. She wanted to promise him she would never let
Voldemort hurt him, but she knew that she couldn’t. She no longer had the right to command
protection over Draco. And as for Voldemort, she knew there was very little she could do to
protect Draco from him.

----

Mundungus was a dead man when Harry got her hands on him. Not that she had any
particular attachment to anything belonging to the Noble House of Black, but they belonged
to Sirius. They belonged to her. The moment they broke up for term, she would have the
Order bring her to the house so they could erect some very powerful wards on it. It was her
house now, and she would protect it from the scum that was Mundungus. That thought
nourished her as she trudged through the snow alongside Hermione and Ron through
Hogsmeade.

The village had been a welcome break from the castle but the whole time she found herself
wondering where Draco was. Normally, he would relish the chance to escape to the Three
Broomsticks with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. Whilst she planned secret meetings and snooped
on private conversations, he enjoyed butterbeer and stocked them both up on chocolate frogs.
Today, there was no sign of him and it left an unnerved feeling in her gut.

Then she heard Katie Bell from Gryffindor shout suddenly from in front of them. The
package she’d been holding dropped into the snow at her feet, an opal pendant glistening in
the cold winter light. In an instant, she was watching Katie Bell’s body float into the air, her
hair wild around her fact and her mouth open in a silent scream.

----
Paranoia and rash decisions raced through her mind as Harry followed Hagrid into the castle,
holding the curled necklace by its box. She listened intently to McGonagall and Katie Bell’s
friend explain what had happened to Katie. She heard the necklace hiss as Snape examined it,
and she knew. Instantly she knew who was behind it. it was her boy, her beautiful tortured
boy who had given Katie the package and bewitched her not to question why. Why else
would he have been in Borgin and Burke’s, a place known for unusual and dangerous
artifacts. Yet she didn’t dare say anything even as Snape ordered them back to their
dormitories.

As she separated from Ron and Hermione to head to the dungeons, she spotted Blaise dusting
snow from his coat and sprinted over to him. Harry grabbed his arm tightly and hissed, “Tell
me Draco wasn’t at Hogsmeade.”

“Where I come from we say ‘hello’ before manhandling people,” he huffed and shrugged out
of her hold.

“Was he at The Three Broomsticks with you?”

Blaise frowned, “You were there. You know he wasn’t.” He paused. “Why are you asking me
that? Wait-you think he had something to do with what happened with the Bell girl?”

“Did he?”

A strange look crossed his face before he murmured, “If he was there, I didn’t see him. And I
hope to Merlin you’re wrong.”

“So am I,” she whispered as Blaise walked away from her.

----

She didn’t want to believe it, of course. Draco for all of his sneers and snide remarks, wasn’t
a bad person. He wasn’t particularly good all of the time, but neither was she. She couldn’t
imagine him conjuring an Imperius charm on Katie Bell to make her take the necklace to
Dumbledore. But then, could he imagine her torturing his aunt with the Cruciartus Curse as
she had done last year. If so, they were as bad as each other. Made for each other. Her heart
ached at the thought of it.

“And you thought you’d found Prince Charming,” a familiar voice cooed as she stepped out
of the shower. “How awful for you to find out he is capable of such things.”

“Don’t start” she muttered bitterly, not even daring to glance at him. She tugged the towel
tighter around her body and began detangling her wet hair with a brush. “Draco isn’t like
you. He’s only doing this because you’re making him.”

“Oh? Have you never considered that this is who Draco Malfoy truly is? A Pureblood of his
name, with his ties. Surely you at least suspected this day would happen. He is his father’s
son, after all.”
“Lucius isn’t evil!” she snarled, turning around to face him and brandishing the hairbrush like
a weapon. “Bigoted, yes. Antiquated by generations of traditional fucked-up values,
definitely. But he has never been cruel to me. Which is more than I can say for you.”

Voldemort laughed bitterly, “Cruel? He let you think Sirius was at the Ministry with me. He
didn’t lift a finger when I tortured you in that graveyard. No, no, my darling girl, make no
mistake I own the Malfoys… and someday, I’ll own you too.”

Harry hurled the hairbrush at the mirror, startled when it made contact and the mirror
splintered into a thousand cracks. She saw her reflection in those cracks, watching green eyes
staring back at her as they filled with tears. Leaning on the sink, she began to sob, the sound
echoing off the tiled walls of the dormitory bathroom.
 Boys Will Be Boys
Chapter Notes

Merry Christmas, everyone! One more chapter before Christmas as a little prelude for
what I have planned for Slughorn's Christmas party. Enjoy!

The boy was a pale thing with familiar skinny knees, dark hair and shrewd brown eyes that
watched Dumbledore warily as he sat at the edge of the bed. He listened intently as
Dumbledore explained his presence but there was something guarded in his eyes. Harry
couldn’t blame him. She had found it hard to believe too when Hagrid had burst through the
door that July night to tell her she was a witch. Something flickered across his face, and she
knew it was this small hope he had likely clung to for years that he was special. That
someone, something, had come to take him away from the life he’d known and show him a
world of wonder and magic.

“I always knew,” he muttered to himself. “Always knew I was special.”

Harry thought back to the small incidents of her childhood like when Dudley and his friends
had chased her, only for her to appear on the roof. She’d stared out onto the horizon of Little
Whinging and for a moment, dreamed of a world much bigger than the four walls of the
Dursley’s home. Where Dudley wouldn’t pull or try to burn her hair. Where Vernon wouldn’t
snap his belt if she got in trouble. Where the lock of the door under the stairs wouldn’t slam
shut when they didn’t want to acknowledge her.

“Are you a wizard too?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes, I am.”

The boy assessed the older wizard shrewdly. “Prove it.”

Harry didn’t expect the wardrobe to set alight, moving slightly away from the flames as the
boy stared at it in amazement. Then the flames were gone and its place was a rattling sound.

“It sounds like there’s something in there that wants to get out. You better open it,”
Dumbledore drawled.

Tom obeyed hesitantly, taking out a small box which he placed on the bed. Inside was a small
collection of everyday items: a yo-yo, a silver thimble and a mouth-organ among other
things.

“Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts. You will return them to their rightful owners with
your apologies.” Dumbledore then put away his wand and continued: “At Hogwarts, we
teach not only how to use magic, but to control it. All new wizards and witches must abide by
the laws we have in place to do so, otherwise you will become an issue for the Ministry of
Magic.”

Harry continued watching the boy as Dumbledore explained his next steps, just as Hagrid had
done five years ago. Except Tom was adamant about doing it alone. Harry was forever
thankful that Hagrid had accompanied her, otherwise she might very well have bought that
gold cauldron she’d originally wanted. Having money suddenly was a strange thing to a
person who had had nothing before. Glancing around the boy’s sparse bedroom, Harry
wondered if he had felt the same.

“I can speak to snakes too,” he blurted out as Dumbledore turned to leave. “They find me.
Whisper things. Is that-is that normal for someone like me?”

Harry looked at the boy, saw the same nervousness at the prospect of being mad. That the
strange things she could do with her mind were normal, but not the voices. She remembered
the way everyone had stared at her during Second Year when she’d discovered she was a
Parseltongue and what that entailed. A part of her wanted to pull the boy to her, and promise
him that he wasn’t mad. She could hear snakes too. It was a special and rare gift, and he
shouldn’t be scared of it.

“It is unusual,” Dumbledore replied coolly. “But not unheard of. Goodbye, Tom. I shall see
you at Hogwarts.”

As Harry and the present-Dumbledore returned to his office, Harry couldn’t help but think
back on the boy’s face. “Did you know-?”

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” Dumbledore
asked. “No. I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is now. I was intrigued by him
though. I returned to Hogwarts, and I’m sure you’ll remember I ended up keeping a close eye
on him. It seems my efforts were in vain.”

Harry nodded, still staring at the opal-like water of the Pensieve. “Professor? Tom Riddle
collected things just like Professor Slughorn,” she murmured.

“Yes, Harry. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons that he and Professor Slughorn
became so close over his time at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore adjusted his glasses slightly.
“Speaking of Professor Slughorn, how fairs your attempts to be collected?”

“Very well, sir. I believe he’s quite impressed with my potion-making skills.”

“A shame the same could not be said for your former Potions Master,” Dumbledore smirked.

Harry rolled her eyes and huffed, “Earning praise from Snape is not high on my priorities,
Professor.”

“Even so, I hope not to hear of any more detentions I have to rearrange for you,” he said with
wink. “Now, off to bed. It’s getting late.”

-----
Harry sat between Hermione and Blaise, poking at a bowl of profiterolls with her spoon as
they sat around a large round table in Slughorn’s rooms. Slughorn had been busy collecting
since that first initial meeting in his train compartment, as Harry noted several familiar faces
around the table. Cormac McLaggen was naturally there, with a trademark smirk as he
engaged in small talk with the Potions Master, sending the occasional glance over to Harry as
he talked.

“Oh Merlin,” she heard Blaise mutter under his breath.

“What?”

“I think McLaggen likes you,” he said with a slight wrinkle of his nose. “He hasn’t stopped
looking at you all night.”

Harry frowned, “So?”

Blaise put down his spoon and sighed softly, “Sweet girl, you do know you’re the most
eligible witch at this school, right? And seeing as you are recently available, the vultures are
beginning to circle.”

Harry glanced over at Cormac and hissed, “It’s only been a few weeks!”

“We’re teenagers, lovely, we go through partners quicker than parchment.”

“And you, Miss Granger,” Slughorn said as he turned his attention to Hermione who stilled
under his gaze. “What is it your parents do in the Muggle world?”

“My parents are dentists.” At the bewildered looks on several of their peers’ faces, she added:
“They tend to people’s teeth.”

“I see. And is that a dangerous profession?”

Hermione looked to Harry for help who simply shrugged. “No, not at all.”

Harry saw the glimmer of disappoint in Slughorn’s eyes as he then turned to his next student.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cormac lick the chocolate from his spoon as he watched
her and she found herself trying to conceal her disgust. ‘Dream on, wonder boy’, she thought
as memories of pale blonde hair flitted through her mind.

----

It was frightfully easy, being the last student to leave Slughorn’s rooms and for a moment,
Slughorn seemed flattered that she would choose to. She wandered over to the cabinet where
he had arranged all of his photographs of past students.

“I dare say I shall see you up there one day,” he mused as he poured himself a brandy. “Just
like your mother. There she is, bottom shelf.”

Harry peered down at the photograph in question, a group of students in their robes and there
standing closest to Slughorn was a familiar head of red hair. It was the same one she had seen
when they first met, but this time she made a point to study it closer. Lily looked no more
than fifteen in the photograph, and it was bizarre for Harry to think that not long after that,
her mother had married and been pregnant with her.

“Do all of your favourites stay on the shelf, sir?”

“Not all. I change them up a fair bit -there’s been so many over the years.”

With all the courage she could muster, she asked: “Did Voldemort ever make the shelf, sir?”

She felt without even looking that Slughorn had froze into place. She counted to three before
spluttering nervously, “I’m so sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have asked-I- he killed my parents is all.”

“No, no, that’s quite alright, Harry,” he croaked. “It’s only natural for you to be curious.
However, I must disappoint you. The boy I knew at Hogwarts was an intelligent, incredibly
talented young wizard. Not unlike yourself. If there was indeed a monster in there back then,
he kept it well-hidden.”

Harry thought back to the Basilisk roaming the castle and Moaning Myrtle’s dead body on
the bathroom floor. ‘No, he didn’t’, she thought bitterly. ‘But nobody was looking for it’. She
thought back on the eleven-year-old boy in Dumbledore’s memory and how she had wanted
to comfort him. For someone who seemed so wrapped up in themselves, it was strange how
he managed to draw so many people into him. She left Slughorn’s rooms with a polite smile
and a promise to come to his Christmas party, but the memory of Tom Riddle weighed on her
as she returned to the dungeons.

-----

It occurred to Harry on the morning of Ron’s first game as Keeper, that a little bit of
manipulation was needed to ensure her friend’s victory. Ron entered the Great Hall, pale and
like he was seconds from tearing his uniform off and hiding in one of the many classrooms
till the game was over. She made her way over to the Gryffindor table, the vial of Felix
Felicus in her pocket before sitting down opposite Ron.

“I’ll resign. After today’s match, McClaggen can have my spot.”

Harry sighed as she shoved some sausages onto Ron’s plate, “You’ll be fine. Now, for the
love of Godric, eat something. Ginny will kill me if I don’t put some food down you first.”

“Sure. How was your dinner party anyway?” he grumbled, poking at his food.

Hermione looked up from the Daily Prophet and shrugged. “It was fine. Slughorn’s having a
Christmas do, you know? We’re supposed to bring someone.”

Ron sighed wearily, “Oh Merlin! And I suppose you’ll be taking McLaggen or some other
knobhead, huh?”

“Actually, I was going to ask you,” she sniffed.

Harry glanced at Hermione, trying her best to ignore the insecure voice in her head telling her
that her best friends dating wasn’t a good idea. She then made a point of being seen covering
the rim of a goblet of pumpkin juice. with her sleeve before handing it over to Ron.

“What the hell did you put in that?” Hermione snapped. “You just tipped something into
Ron’s drink.”

With an ease that Harry felt honoured the name of Slytherin, she smirked over at her bushy-
haired friend and flashed the vial of Felix Felicis from her jacket pocket. It received mixed
reactions from her friends.

“Harry! You could be expelled for that,” Hermione hissed.

“Hmm, like brewing Polyjuice Potion in the girls’ lavatories or breaking my godfather out of
custody. Yet, I don’t remember you being so vocal about expulsion on either occasion,” she
mused before turning to Ron. “Anyway, drink up.”

Ron, however, seemed gobsmacked as he stared at her in wonder then down at the goblet.
“Don’t drink it, Ron!”

To Harry’s immense pride, Ron grunted, “Stop bossing me about.” He then proceeded to
down the goblet within seconds.

Perhaps if it had been a match against Slytherin, Harry mused, she might not have bothered.
But seeing as it was against Ravenclaw today, she found she was perfectly within her rights
to meddle. The vial sat in her jacket pocket as she followed Ron out of the Great Hall, still
uncorked.

----

Lavender Brown kissing Ron during Gryffindor’s victory party was unexpected to say the
least. what perhaps wasn’t was the crestfallen look on Hermione’s face at the sight of it.
Harry inwardly groaned as she recalled a similar spat in Fourth Year involving Hermione on
the arm of Viktor Krum. Bringing that up certainly wouldn’t help matters, and so she found
herself following Hermione out of the Gryffindor common room till she found her sat on a
small stairwell down a corridor of empty classrooms. A small ring of twittering yellow birds
circled her head, chirping happily over Hermione’s sniffling.

With a sigh, Harry sat down beside her. “I’m sure there’s some very poignant quote I should
be telling you right now, but -um- I can’t think of any. Plus, we both know he’s an idiot. It’s
kinda self-explanatory at this point.”

Hermione laughed softly, “Thanks anyway.” She paused. “Is this-is this how it felt on the
train? With Malfoy?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” she muttered dryly. “I suppose I should be thankful my darling ex
seems more interested in brooding than rebounding.”

Hermione hummed before murmuring, “I’m sorry Draco’s an idiot too.”

“Yeah, you and me both.”

The moment was broken by the sound of giggling as Ron appeared pulling Lavender down
the corridor. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dilated before they settled on Harry
and Hermione. Last time Harry had seen Ron like this it was when Fleur had kissed him on
the cheek back at the Burrow. Somehow, she felt that Lavender’s motives weren’t simply
continental.

“Oops,” Lavender giggled. “Sorry, girls.”

Ron chuckled nervously as Lavender walked away to scout out a clear classroom. “What’s
with the birds?”

Hermione’s eyes darkened and hissed, “Oppugno.”

Harry watched with a raised eyebrow as the birds then flew after Ron at an alarming speed
till he ran away in the direction Lavender had gone. Her rage was mildly impressive, she
mused before Ron’s shouts were out of earshot. Hermione then burst into tears, leaning
against Harry’s shoulder as she sobbed. ‘Stupid fucking boys’, Harry thought bitterly.
 A Night To Remember
Chapter Notes

Slughorn's party is finally here! Just a little treat before New Year's; I have had this
chapter planned out for a while now and hope you guys like it. Hopefully I'll get the next
chapter written quickly so you won't be waiting for the results of this one too long haha

It was particularly amusing to see Ron in a relationship. Granted, it was the kind that
involved frantic make-out sessions and Lavender draping herself over Ron like a limpet, with
a near-constant state of smugness across the redhead’s face. Although Harry would have
preferred if it didn’t enrage Hermione so. She found herself groaning inwardly each time Ron
appeared with hickeys on his neck or the tell-tale pink smudge across his lips from
Lavender’s lip balm. It was nauseating enough seeing the happy couples around Hogwarts
taking advantage of the mistletoe hanging over doorways and the romantic scenery of the
falling snow around the Scottish landscape.

“I don’t know what Hermione’s problem is,” Ron sighed as the pair walked together from
Potions. “See, what Lav and I have is purely-”

“Physical.”

“Exactly. Like Hermione and Krum. Don’t see me sending birds at her for that, do you?” he
grumbled. Harry noted the scratched the redhead’s arms still bore, but made no comment
about Ron’s jealous reaction regarding said Drumstrang student.

Silence, Harry had discovered, was her greatest ally in this situation as neither of her best
friends seemed likely to reconcile soon and picking sides was never a good idea. Thankfully,
they seemed happy enough to avoid each other between classes. Hermione’s schedule was so
hectic that Harry could only find her in the evenings, when Ron was attached to Lavender’s
face for the better half of the evening.

“He’s at perfectly liberty to kiss whomever he likes,” Hermione snapped as Harry followed
her around the Library. “I really couldn’t care less.”

Harry rolled her eyes behind her as Hermione continued: “Was I under the impression we’d
be attending Slughorn’s Christmas party together? Yes. Now-now I’ve had to make other
arrangements.”

This caught Harry’s attention. “Oh? Who?”

“Never mind that, what about you? Who are you taking?”
“No one I’d like to,” she muttered bitterly. Last time she’d needed a date for something, she’d
had Draco who had waited for at the bottom of the dormitory stairs with that emerald
necklace he’d clasped around her neck. Marking her as a Malfoy. Looking back, the thought
stirred something rather primal in her and she wanted to growl at the fact she no longer had
that to look forward to.

“Well, you need to be careful. Apparently, there’s a bet going around with some of the boys,
on who you’ll take,” she mused as she leant against the bookcase. “Some are even discussing
sneaking you a love potion.”

Harry snorted, “Wherever did you hear that?”

“Seamus heard it in the boy’s bathroom earlier. Apparently, Cormac McLaggen is the
ringleader.”

Glancing over Hermione’s shoulder, Harry spotted the blonde boy with a few of the other
Gryffindors around a study table. She wondered if she would indeed become that desperate
for someone on her arm, she’d resort to the boy who winked at her across the Library.

“Pathetic, isn’t it? Like some medieval jousting match for a princess’ hand. All because they
think you’re the Chosen One.”

Harry smirked, “But I am the Chosen One.”

Hermione shot her a pointed look. “Does the Chosen One still need me to look over her
Charms essay?”

“Please,” she replied with a blush.

With a sigh, Hermione sat down at one of the study tables and began proofreading Harry’s
essay. After a few minutes, she murmured, “Why don’t you try asking one of your Slytherin
friends to go with you?”

Harry grimaced, “That may be more difficult than you’d expect.”

----

“No.”

Harry’s face fell as she chased after Blaise as he headed for the Slytherin common room.
“But, Blaise, I can’t go to Slughorn’s party without a date!”

“True, but if you think I am stupid enough to get in between you and Draco right now, you’ve
got another thing coming.”

“You’re supposed to be my friend!” she whined.

Blaise turned to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I am. And as your friend,
I can say full-heartedly that I am not interested in becoming collateral damage in your
ongoing melodrama. Oh, and don’t go asking any of the others lads from our house either.
Their answer will be the same.”

“Why?!” she cried as they continued walking.

“Because the kids don’t like it when Mummy and Daddy fight. We will remain neutral parties
until that silver-spooned prick gets his priorities sorted,” he replied coolly.

Harry growled softly, bawling her hands into fists. “This has nothing to do with him!”

“Doesn’t it?” he smirked. “So… this isn’t an attempt to make him jealous?”

Avoiding his gaze, a blush grew over Harry’s cheeks. “It’s important I gain Slughorn’s favour
and trust. Bringing the right date to his Christmas party will help me make the right
impression.”

Blaise hummed, “Yes, why is that again?”

Her eyes met his obsidian ones, full of pointed unrestrained frustration. “You know full damn
well why. Now help me find someone,” she gritted out.

They reached the entrance to the common room, and Blaise paused in front of it. “Have you
tried one of your brainless Gryffindors to serve your needs? Or an awestruck Hufflepuff?”

“I’m trying to make an impression here.”

Blaise smirked, “Whilst I’m flattered you think being on my arm would do the trick, I am
otherwise spoken for that evening. If the Weasleys of this world are either gone or taken, I
suggest you try finding someone who will irritate Draco the most. But then, it’s not him
you’re trying to get attention from, is it?”

The door opened and Harry sighed wearily as she tried to think of possible contenders for
such a title.

-----

With a sigh, Harry adjusted her dress in a passing window’s reflection before following the
others up to Slughorn’s office. She still wasn’t entirely sure she’d picked the right date in the
end. Daphne had said she’d lie to him for her, tell him she was struck down by endometriosis
or something he wouldn’t ask too many questions about. But tonight was important, and her
choice of date would only be a minor issue as long as she kept him in check and Slughorn’s
attention on her.

“Nervous, Potter?”

Harry tried to hide her shudder as she looked up at Cormac McLaggen with a polite smile.
“Not at all, just haven’t been to many parties is all.”

Cormac smirked and linked her arm with his, “Then perhaps I’ll have to take you out again?
Especially if you look like this each time.”
Harry said nothing, trying to keep collected until they were at the party. She had heard
rumours flying about who was invited aside from the Slug Club, and she had a horrid feeling
this would be like the odd events the Malfoys would bring her to. Except this time, she
wouldn’t have Draco on her arm, pulling her away from dreary conversation or snide
comments. Even still, she was here to make an impression.

An impression that was helped greatly, she imagined by her outfit. The dress she wore
consisted of a black soft mesh overlay that was designed to look like green snake scales
reflecting in the light. The v-neckline was just about decent, not revealing too much of her
chest whilst a slit up the right side of the dress showed an impressive amount of pale thigh as
she moved. Her hair was curled as it usually was at such events, her black hair contrasting
against the emerald earrings she’d loaned from Daphne for the evening. She looked like a
true princess of Slytherin, which was exactly what Slughorn wanted. ‘And so does
Voldemort’, a voice reminded her but she chose to ignore it.

Slughorn’s office was much larger than it had been the other night, perhaps enchanted to be
so or a trick of the decorations. The ceiling and walls had been draped in various red, green
and gold hangings that made the room appear as if they were all inside a great tent. House
elves meandered around the room holding silver trays, trying their best not to walk into the
many knees at their eye-level. A string quartet was playing to the side of the room, filling the
office with familiar tunes over the sound of chatter and laughter.

“Harry, my dear!” Slughorn boomed as soon as Harry entered the room. “Come in, come in,
so many people I want you to meet.”

“Of course, Professor,” she smiled sweetly.

“And Cormac as well, I didn’t know you two were so close,” he said, his eyes lighting up
with delight at the thought.

Harry glanced at Cormac, seeing the smirk plastered across his lips and tried to conceal her
own distaste. “It’s a more…recent development, sir.”

“Ah, young love. Now…” Slughorn grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled the pair of them further
into the room to where a couple of older wizards were sat around talking. “I’d like you to
meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine and author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst
the Vampires -and of course, his friend Sanguini.”

Worple clasped Harry’s hand and kissed it gently. “Harry Potter, I am simply delighted to
meet you. I was just saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day ‘where is the biography
of Harriet Potter we’ve been waiting for’?”

“You were?” she asked nervously.

“Just as modest as Horace described!” cried Worple. “But seriously – I would be delighted to
write it myself. People are craving to know more about you, dear girl. Simply craving.

“I’m afraid that a biography would be out of the question, sir. I haven’t made any real
significant achievements to warrant one-”
Worple laughed softly, “Ah! How adorable. You defeated You-Know-Who, my dear. Of
course, the world wants to know about your life, your struggles-” He glanced knowingly at
Cormac. “Your love life.”

How she wished it was Draco or Lucius at her side, interrupting the conversation and pulling
her away. How she longed for the pale blonde saviour to come and tell Worple she wasn’t
interested. As wonderful as Hermione and Ron were, they weren’t very good at keeping
Harry out of trouble. The sheer amount of detentions on her record was testament to that.

“I really don’t think-”

“The gold you could make off such a book though, dear. You’ve no idea-”

Harry frowned and took a much harsher tone, “I am flattered, sir, but I don’t need to increase
my fortune. I already have a sizeable inheritance from my parents and godfather.”

“Godfather?” Cormac asked dumbly.

Glancing up at him, she huffed, “Yes. Sirius Black. He died last year, protecting me.”

“Now, see!” Worple grinned as he shoved a pastry into his vampire companion’s hand.
Perhaps to keep the vampire from going after the group of giggling girls who he had been
eyeing hungrily. “Already, you’re a fountain of information.”

“Be that as it may, I’m really not interested,” she sighed. “If you’ll excuse us.”

She managed to pull Cormac away from the disappointed gaze of Worple and the almost
smug expression of his vampire companion. Her relief was soon cut short though by
Cormac’s decision to regale her with tales of his Quidditch skills. A never-ending spiel of
stories Harry could care less about.

“Yes, all very fascinating, Cormac,” she muttered dryly. “Not as impressive as catching a
Snitch in your mouth on your first game but…”

Her words were cut short as she was instantly pulled flush against his chest. Cormac smirked
down at her, tipping her chin up with her forefinger. “Look. Mistletoe,” he murmured.

Sure enough, as Harry glanced upwards a sprig of mistletoe was hung down from the ceiling.
‘Oh shit…’ she thought as he closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss her. However, before
his lips could reach hers, she darted out of his grasp and into the throng of people. Without a
second thought, she slipped behind a wall hanging that draped over an alcove like a curtain.
She squeaked as somebody appeared next to her, only to see it was Hermione shuffling into
the alcove beside her.

“Having a good time?” Hermione smirked.

“I’ve just escaped Cormac under the mistletoe,” she panted.

Hermione frowned, “Cormac McLaggen? I thought I told you to stay away from him.”
Harry rolled her eyes. “You told me to be wary. I thought it’d be a safer option than waiting
to see if he drugged me. Obviously, I was mistaken.”

“Handsy, is he?”

Harry hummed in annoyance. “Hasn’t shut his mouth about his quidditch skills either. As if I
should be impressed. The ‘almost’ Gryffindor Keeper,” she huffed. Pinching her brow, she
sighed, “I’m sorry. I haven’t even asked how you’re doing. Who did you end up bringing?”

“Granger, please tell me Harry didn’t bring Cormac-” a familiar voice groaned from the other
side of the curtain before it was pulled back to reveal Blaise. “Oh, there you are.”

“I’m in hiding,” Harry replied bluntly. She watched Blaise hand Hermione a glass of punch
and frowned. “Wait a minute. Are you two-?”

Blaise chuckled, “I am merely happy to be of service to a lady. Politics be damned, screwing

with Weasley’s head will provide far more amusement than simply bringing any old
Pureblood. Also, McLaggen is coming this way.”

“Shit!”

Darting out from the alcove, she soon found herself bumping into Slughorn again who
clasped a sweaty palm over Harry’s shoulder. She smiled sweetly back at him, hoping that his
attention would keep Cormac and his eager lips at bay.

“Instinctive, you know – like her mother! Why I tell you -oh, Severus!”

Snape appeared from the crowd like a black-cloaked spectre and nursing a glass of something
likely just as bitter as his soul. “I was just talking about Harry’s exceptional potion-making
skills! Such a credit to you, I am sure, after five years.”

Harry inwardly groaned, hoping that Snape wouldn’t think anything was amiss and start
poking into it. She watched as Snape focussed his black eyes on her, narrowing them.
“Funny. I didn’t think that I had managed to teach Potter anything at all,” he replied dryly.

“Apart from the benefits of a good conditioner, sir,” she smirked.

Snape’s lips turned upwards into a snarl, but Slughorn managed to interrupt him: “Tell me
again what other subjects you’re taking?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology-”

“All the subjects required, in short, for an Auror,” Snape sniffed.

Harry hummed and said with a pointed look to Snape, “Well, I’m quite good at catching dark
wizards already so it seems like a natural career path.”

Snape glared at her but then their attentions were diverted by the sound of a scuffle outside
the door. To her immense surprise, Filch appeared dragging Draco in front of Slughorn by the
scruff of his neck. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.
“Alright, so I wanted to gate-crash, happy?” Draco hissed as he pulled himself free of Filch’s
grip.

“That’s all right, Argus, that’s all right,” Slughorn said cheerily. “It’s Christmas, and it’s not a
crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we’ll forget any punishment; you may stay,
Draco.”

For a moment, as Filch stormed away, Draco looked disappointed as if he had wanted to be
thrown out on his tail. Harry glanced at Snape and noted how he was watching his godson
with anger and just a little bit of fear. Then in an instant, Draco composed his face and
thanked Slughorn for his generosity.

“No, no. It’s nothing,” Slughorn said, waving away his thanks. “I did know your grandfather,
after all…”

Harry stared at Draco, listening to him suck up to the older Potions Master. Maybe it was the
lighting or the rum punch had gone to her head already, but Draco looked ill. Dark shadows
lay beneath his grey eyes and there was an unhealthy pallor to his cheeks. He didn’t seem like
himself at all, and that felt like a punch to the gut to see him that way. Out of the corner of
her eye, Harry saw Snape open his mouth, undoubtedly to draw Draco away and scold him
regarding whatever plans Voldemort had involved him with.

Before she could comprehend what she was doing, she blurted out: “Draco? Dance with me.”

All three men turned their heads towards her, as if they had forgotten she was standing there.
Draco certainly seemed shocked to see her, his eyes raking over her form and she noted the
slight intake of breath of what he saw.

“Dance with me. You love to dance,” she replied calmly.

Hesitantly, and to everyone’s surprise, Draco raised his hand take hers. His skin was cold to
the touch and yet, she couldn’t help but hold his hand just a little bit tighter. He leant into the
ear of one of the musicians before guiding her into the middle of the Slughorn’s office. They
had drawn a small crowd already, and Harry spied Cormac glaring at her as Draco put his
hand over her waist. Draco then pulled her flush against him as they settled into hold and the
string quarter began to play. Their foreheads brushed against each other as their feet began to
step and flick to the beat of the music.

He missed her touch more than anything. Her small manicured hands in his, always a little bit
cold that he wanted to chase away with his kisses and fur-lined gloves. Her scent alone made
him want to bury his nose in the crook of her neck and breathe it in, let it calm him and make
him forget his mission. It was easy to forget as they moved against each other about it all.
The mission. Voldemort. The people watching them. ‘Too easy…’

As the music played, Harry wished that it would never stop. Time would reverse and the
events of the train never happened. The battle at the Ministry never happened. Sirius was
alive. Her and Draco were still in love. For a moment, everything was perfect. Then he
dipped her, his nose brushing against her throat as he did so.
“Hogsmeade,” she whispered longingly as he pulled her upright in one swift movement.

Draco froze as the music ended, staring back at her green eyes in wonder. ‘How could she-?’
He knew in his heart that if he told her what was going on, she would burn Voldemort’s entire
empire to the ground for him. His heart broke just a little at the thought.

The room broke out into thunderous applause, led by Slughorn and the pair eventually
stepped out of hold. “Bravo! Bravissimo!” Slughorn cried. “I had no idea you were such a
talented dancer, Harry.”

Harry and Draco kept their eyes trained on each other as Draco murmured, “She’s a girl of
many talents, Professor.”

He looked at her longingly for a moment before walking away, straight into Snape’s arm
length and was guided out of the room. Harry watched him leave before slipping from
Slughorn’s grasp and following the pair out of the party.

Cormac went to follow his date, fury in his eyes when suddenly a dark hand landed firmly on
his shoulder. He glanced behind him to find Blaise staring into his glass as if trying to find
something interesting at the bottom of it.

“If I were you, McLaggen, I would concentrate your efforts to secure an eligible mate
elsewhere. The lady is otherwise spoken for.”

Cormac scoffed, “He had his chance with her. If he doesn’t want her anymore, then-”

Blaise looked at him, pinning him with his obsidian eyes. “Oh? And that makes it open
season of our little saviour, huh? Heed my advice, little Gryffindor, and leave Harry Potter
alone.”

Releasing Cormac’s shoulder, he knew that the other boy wouldn’t follow Harry. He hoped
that she was running into Draco’s arms right now, that this whole mess would be over and
dealt with by New Year’s. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
 I Will Always Love You
Chapter Notes

Well, I planned on getting this out quicker but I reward you all for your patience with a
bit of smut ;)

It was almost as if she was possessed, following after Draco like a moth to a flame. The
sound of her heels against the stone floor was masked by the music and hum of chatter
echoing from Slughorn’s office. She hid behind a pillar as she came closer to his and Snape’s
voices.

“-cannot afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled-”

“I didn’t have anything to do with it, alright?”

“I hope you are telling the truth because it was both clumsy and foolish.”

She heard Draco scoff, “I already told you it wasn’t me. Now will you just-!”

There was a pause “Ah… Auntie Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What
secrets are you trying to hide, Draco?”

A part of Harry was relieved at that. If Draco could hide thoughts from Snape, he could
probably keep them from Voldemort which was far better than Harry’s own attempts. She just
wished he wasn’t also keeping them for her so she wouldn’t have to rely on eavesdropping to
know what was going on.

“Get off me! If you think I’m up to something, go to Dumbledore. I don’t care anymore.”

“You will care when He thinks you’ve failed him.” He paused and then in a softer tone,
Snape continued: “I swore to your mother I would look out for you. I made an Unbreakable
Vow.”

“I don’t care if you made some stupid vow, I-!"

“You’re afraid, Draco.”

“No!” Even from a distance, Harry could hear the break in Draco’s voice. The uncertainty. It
almost hurt to hear it. “I-I don’t need help. This is my mission. I won’t fail him.”

“I hope for your sake, Draco, you don’t.”

Looking around the corner, she saw Snape heading back to Slughorn’s office whilst Draco
slunk off into the shadows. On instinct, she waited until Snape was out of sight before
running after Draco. This was her chance to confront him. To mask her approach, she slipped
off her heels and ran barefoot through the halls of Hogwarts, half-wishing she’d brought the
Marauder’s Map with her so she didn’t run into anyone who could interrupt them. She
followed him up to the staircases that groaned as they changed positions.

“Draco!”

He glanced behind him, bewildered at the sight of her. “What are you-? Go back to the party,
Potter,” he huffed before continuing up the stairs.

“No. I am not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell you’re up to.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern anymore,” he sniffed as he turned a corner.

Harry growled softly, “Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been acting weird for weeks, and
all of a sudden weird shit starts happening. Am I really supposed to believe Katie Bell got
cursed on accident?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Harry snorted, “Not where that fucker is concerned.”

“Surprised you’ve had time to play detective, with McLaggen sniffing around you,” he
sniffed. “Didn’t think you were into guys like him.”

“I’m n-why do you even care? You dumped me, remember?”

“Yes, and it is alarming how quickly you jumped into his muscled arms,” he spat.

She let out a growl of frustration. “I don’t want McLaggen, you little shit. I want you!”

Draco paused, snapping his head around to face her. “Why?!”

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” she cried, her voice echoing throughout the
hallway. “Or have you completely forgotten the past five years?”

“I-I haven’t…” Draco’s face hardened again. “This is pointless. Go back to the party, Potter.
We’re done here.”

Feeling an ounce of Gryffindor bravery, she was not swayed by his words and instead asked:
“Do you still love me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking back at her with an anguish-ridden face. “That’s got
nothing to do with this.”

“It has everything to do with it. Do you love me?”

“I can’t do this right now-!” he groaned.

She blocked his path, her head held high as she stood her ground. “Look at me. I love you. I
still love you in spite of all that’s happened this year. I love you so much, I will do anything
for you. Tell me you don’t love me and I will go. I will go back to the party and let
McLaggen kiss me and pretend I’m fine. I will fight in this war. I will be the Chosen One
everyone expects me to be and not give you another thought if that is what you wish. But first
you must tell me if you love me.”

“Harry, please!” he begged.

“Draco! I will stand with you between the Heavens and the earth. I will fight for us. Do you
love me?” she demanded.

“I love you!” His voice faltered instantly as the words settled around them, echoing off the
stone walls. “But it’ll get me killed.”

It was confirmation of Harry’s greatest hopes and fears all at once. Draco Malfoy loved her,
but he knew it put him in danger for doing so. As long as Voldemort lived, he was in danger.
So, he allowed the Dark Mark to be branded onto his skin, and accepted missions no sixteen-
year-boy should be given, all to be kept in Voldemort’s good graces.

But in that moment, none of that mattered.

They came together, their lips pressed against each other as the tears that had been forming in
their eyes fell onto their cheeks. Her hands ran through his blonde hair whilst he held her
tightly.
Voices sounded from the end of the corridor, forcing the pair to break apart. Shadows of
students returning to their dormitories appeared along the walls and a flicker of panic ran
through Harry until Draco pulled her through a doorway. As soon as they entered the room,
she felt a strange pulse and the door vanished quickly behind them. The room was flooded in
amber light from candles that burned along the walls, like a gothic chamber out of some
romantic novel. The candles cast shadows across the room and against the creases of the
black silk bedding that covered the lone bed in the centre of the room.

“The Room of Requirement,” Draco explained. “It has uses other than a classroom for illegal
classes.”

Before she could retort, he pulled her back into another kiss and all snarky remarks faded
from her mind. The pair stumbled backwards until the backs of Harry’s legs hit the side of the
bed and Draco pushed her down onto the sheets. His leg slipped between hers, riding her
dress higher up her thighs as they continued to kiss.

“Fuck, Draco…” she whimpered between kisses.

He moved away from her lips, smirking at the whine she emitted to remove his blazer which
he threw away from the bed. He then bent down, effectively caging her into place with his
arms and legs.

“Harry, are you sure?” he asked softly. His voice was hesitant and his eyes stared back at her
with a vulnerability he rarely showed. She knew if he asked him to stop, he would. Lucius
and Narcissa had raised him better than that. The thing was, now the opportunity had
presented itself, she didn’t want him to stop. Not even for a second.

She nodded before admitting, “I don’t really know what I’m doing though.”

He smiled, brushing a lock of her hair from her face. “I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Ok. Help me outta this dress first.”

He pulled her upright and unzipped her dress, pulling it down her body to reveal the pale bare
flesh he had missed since last year. She kicked off her heels and removed her jewellery, not
wanting to tarnish the pieces with sweat and other fluids. Finally, she sat at the edge of the
bed in just her underwear and turned to him with a nervous smile. He had removed his
turtleneck and now lay bare-chested against the bed as he pulled her back to him with a lazy
smile.

“You’re so beautiful, Harry,” he purred as he rolled to tower over her.

“Not so bad yourself, Draco,” she chuckled.

Her gaze settled on his bare torso, the sleek toned chest that her hands couldn’t help but
caress. Having him like this seemed almost surreal now. Sure, she had seen him bare-chested
before but now he wasn’t her boyfriend, he was like forbidden fruit. Her eyes darted to the
Dark Mark on his forearm, the one that marked him as her enemy and hesitantly traced the
curve of the snake with her fingers. It briefly occurred to her then, as she gazed at the tattoo
that she was about to sleep with a Death Eater. Oddly enough, it didn’t bother her as much as
she thought it should have done. But that was an ethical dilemma for another time, as Draco
dove down to begin sucking bruises along her neck.

“Possessive much?” she murmured, running her hands through his hair.

“I had to watch you be on McLaggen’s arm,” he grumbled. “Let me have this.”

Harry rolled her eyes but chose to ignore it in favour of leaving her own marks against his
neck. He groaned against her as she leaned up to nibble on his ear before he changed tactics
and grabbed one of her breasts, groping it through the material of her bra. Not satisfied with
the feeling of the bra alone, he moved his hand and reached underneath her to unclasp her
bra. She gasped as it fell open in one quick manoeuvre.

“Where-where did you learn to do that?”

“Never you mind,” he murmured with a knowing smirk. The bra fell off her easily and he
quickly flung it aside, before diving down to kiss and suckle at her breasts.

As he kissed and nibbled down her body, he made note of every scar that appeared along his
travels. He could account for some of them. Dragon. Voldemort’s resurrection. Umbridge.
There were some though he couldn’t account for and he filed the information away for later.
Now was not the time to question.
He was pleased to note that she was appreciatively wet between her legs already, without him
having touched her. His father had given him a long and serious talk about the art of
lovemaking shortly before Fifth Year began. Harry was to be treated like a goddess and her
comfort was paramount. He had often wondered how his father had managed to keep a
woman like his mother since they’re days at Hogwarts. Now as he gently stroked against
Harry’s folds and heard her shudder, he knew his father knew what he was talking about.

“Shush, darling. I need to stretch you,” he cooed. “Such a needy little thing.”

“You better hurry up, Malfoy, or I’ll-!”

He slid his fingers inside of her and she squealed at the feeling. “Now, now, no need for
threats.”

His fingers thrust into her, slowly adding another finger. Harry looked down to see his fingers
slide into her, her body fluttering around them as they pushed inside.

“Merlin, I can’t wait to be inside you…” he whispered.

Harry whined loudly as his fingers brushed against spots inside her that made her feel spikes
of pleasure. “Oh, Merlin-!”

He removed his fingers suddenly and sucked them diligently. “So that’s what a Chosen One
tastes like,” he smirked.

“Dirty boy,” she scolded lightly.

“You love it.” He pulled away from her to unzip his trousers, the sound echoing throughout
the room and drawing Harry’s attention to his crotch. He pushed his trousers down, kicking
them off and unveiling his black underwear that he peeled off to reveal his hardness. “See
something you like, Potter?”

Harry huffed, rolling her eyes but still a smirk spread on her lips. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

He matched her smirk as he crawled between her legs once more. His hands are gentle as he
leans up to cup her face and kissed her deeply. “Tell me if it hurts, ok?” he whispered.

He pulls back and grabs himself, guiding himself slowly inside of her. He felt her still at the
sudden intrusion but made soothing noises till he was able to push the tip inside. He kept his
eyes on her as he pushed further inside of her, examining her face for any traces of pain. He
stilled as she winced at first but eventually, she opened her eyes and nodded for him to
continue. He did so happily, enamoured by the feeling of her wrapped around him and
claimed her lips in another kiss before striking up an easy rhythm.

Harry’s moans filled the room as she embraced the feeling of having him inside of her. It had
stung at first, but now he seemed to be reaching a part of her she didn’t know existed. She
had never felt like this, but she didn’t want it to end. She wrapped her legs around his waist,
pulling her further into her and raked her nails down his back as he continued to thrust into
her.
“Oh, Draco-!” she moaned as they continued their steady rhythm. Suddenly, Draco paused.
His movements halted and Harry stared up at him dumbly. “Wha-?”

“I need you to say it, Harry,” he panted.

“Say what?”

“Tell me you love me. That no one else can have you. That you’re mine.”

Harry rolled her eyes at his timing and grumbled, “You’re such a possessive prick.”

Draco shot her a pointed look. “I’m not moving till you say it.”

With a sigh, she met his gaze and murmured softly: “I love you.”

“You can do better than that,” he chuckled darkly.

“I love you. I love you more than anyone or anything. No one else can have me. Gryffindor
or Slytherin or some murdering sociopath, because I belong to Draco Malfoy…!” Her words
must have flicked a switch inside of Draco as he suddenly thrust into her hard, picking up his
pace again. The sound of slapping flesh and their pants filled the room until finally they
began to lose their rhythm.

“Draco, I-!” she cried.

Something was building inside of her, an unfamiliar yet pleasurable feeling that she felt grow
with each of his thrusts. She clutched at him tightly, her fingernails digging into his back as
she felt that wave of pleasure that she had read about in Aunt Petunia’s romance novels.
Draco kept thrusting until his body quivered and she felt him spill inside of her with a groan.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her and rested his head against her shoulder. For a moment,
before she closed her eyes, she thought she felt him whisper ‘I love you too’ against her skin.

----

Everything had been going so well. He was growing stronger and bringing more people to his
side by the day. Maybe it was mostly due to fear, but he could live with that. Bellatrix had
been keeping him updated on Draco’s mission which seemed to be going exactly as he had
expected it to. ‘Poor Draco’, he thought with a smirk. Whether he failed or achieved his
mission, Voldemort would win against the boy. If he succeeded in killing Dumbledore, then
not only would Voldemort have one less person to worry about, but Draco would have
alienated himself from Harry forever. She could never forgive someone who killed another of
her father figures and Voldemort would be more than happy to use her vulnerable state
against her.

Perhaps he should be more concerned that he was trying to seduce a sixteen-year-old girl and
winning her over a more age-appropriate lover. But he was Lord Voldemort and such things
were not worth thinking over. Even if she and the Malfoy boy had been together, even if the
pair of them still longed for the other, it didn’t matter. For Harry Potter would be his. One
way or another, Harry Potter would be his.
----

Draco’s arm was draped over Harry’s bare torso as she adjusted her glasses to see clearly the
carnage of strewn clothes and tangled limbs they had created. ‘What did we do?’ she thought
as a flicker of panic tingled through her. She had slept with Draco. There was no clear
reconciliation just a declaration of words she already knew were true. There was nothing to
say that once they left the Room of Requirement, that he would ignore his mission and
dedicate himself to her cause. ‘No’, she thought. Not with Narcissa alone at home, and Harry
would never ask him to choose between them.

“You’re thinking too loud,” he mumbled suddenly.

Turning to face him, she saw him slowly open his eyes, his face as emotionless as had been
since the train. He had pulled his underwear on again, but other than that he wore nothing
else against the silk sheets. “I-I can’t believe we did that,” she admitted softly.

“Are you sore?”

“A little,” she winced. “Nothing that’ll send me to Madame Pomfrey anyway.”

“Good, wouldn’t want to have to explain that to Snape,” he snickered as he turned onto his
back.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Is your mind racing too?”

“More like evaporating,” he grumbled. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before
continuing: “I-I don’t regret it though, do you?”

“No. I always figured it’d be you. Kinda thought you’d plan the whole thing in advance with
you know, candles and Michael Bublé.”

Draco furrowed his brow. “Who the hell is Michael Bublé? And why would I be inviting
another man?!” he spluttered.

Harry laughed softly, “He’s a singer! It’s so cute when you don’t get Muggle stuff.” She
leaned over and placed a soft kiss over his pout. “But I would take this over that any day.”

Draco hummed against her lips. “I still can’t believe you took McLaggen to Slughorn’s
party,” he cackled.

“Oh c’mon!” she whined. “I had very little time and very few candidates to consider.”

“Why didn’t you take Blaise?”

Harry adjusted her glasses and sniffed, “Apparently, I’m still considered yours by our fellow
housemates. No one would risk your wrath.”

He scoffed, “I distinctly remember you saying you were mine not five minutes ago.”

“That’s different!”
“Oh? You wouldn’t have been trying to make jealous, were you darling?” he purred and
quickly pinned her back down to the bed. “I would be most disappointed if you had.”

“I had to make sure I looked good in front of Slughorn!” she pouted. “Besides, I didn’t want
him throwing some old student my way.”

Draco scoffed, “Please. The old man is practically fawning over every breath you take. Why
would you need to make a good impression?”

Harry stilled beneath him, avoiding his gaze. “You’re not the only one with secrets, darling.”

“Ah. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in Slughorn or what you want with him.”

“Then what are you interested in?”

Draco shot her a pointed look. “Now, now. No interrogations in the bedroom, darling.”

“Considering an attempted interrogation led to this, you shouldn’t be complaining,” she

scoffed.

“Oh, I’m not,” he purred and kissed her again. He pulled away from her and a strange look
flashed across his face as if he suddenly remembered they were on different sides now.

“I wish we could stay like this,” she admitted softly. Her hands came up to run her fingers
through his blonde locks. “But…”

His face softened, his eyes filled with a strange sort of sadness. “-but, we both have our
duties.” He paused then pulled away, reaching for his trousers. “We should get going.”

He avoided her gaze for a moment, sitting in silence. When he finally turned to face her, she
knew that all thoughts of responsibilities and suicide missions had filled his head once more.
He was no longer her lover, but Voldemort’s soldier. She looked up to the ceiling and nodded,
accepting that the moment had gone. Draco placed a final kiss over her scar before leaving
the bed. She closed her eyes as he pulled his clothes back on. The sound of his footsteps
broke her heart as she heard him move further away from her.

“I really fucking miss you,” she said to his retreating form.

His hand tightened around the door handle but he didn’t look back at her, too afraid of his
own resolve crumbling at the sight of her. “I miss you too.”

The door shut behind him and only then in the silence of the room, did Harry allow her tears
to fall.
 Tis The Damn Season
Chapter Notes

I'm so glad you guys loved the last chapter, now enjoy a Christmas post-sex chapter at
The Burrow incorporating both the film and book's events of this scene.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Well, it happened.”

“You -and-and Malfoy-?”

“Yes.”

“But-why?!”

“Ron, if you ask me that one more time, I’m gonna slap you,” she grumbled.

They had been going over this ever since Harry had finally divulged what had happened the
night of Slughorn’s party five minutes prior. They sat in The Burrow, half-heartedly playing a
round of Wizard’s chess as they waited for the rest of the Weasley’s guests to arrive.

Ron huffed, leaning back against the sofa. “Sorry, mate, it’s just- didn’t see it coming.
Especially not after you found out he’s become a Death Eater.”

“Well, I always have been one to act on impulse,” she muttered dryly.

“Still.” He paused. “You doing ok though? I mean. It must have hurt when he left.”

“Don’t worry. Nothing I can’t handle,” she replied sadly.

Harry thought back to how she had returned to her dormitory to find Blaise waiting for her.
He had held her tightly as she cried, smearing her mascara over his sweater. It was Blaise
who urged her into the shower and summoned the house elves to provide her with cranberry
juice and toast, along with a small vial that he had handed her with a pointed look. It had
completely bypassed her brain that they should have used protection: muggle or wizard-
made. For a brief moment, she had considered the possibility of beautiful blonde-haired
babies with her eyes before shaking her head and swallowed it in one gulp. Blaise had
seemed satisfied with that, and had left her to change, grumbling under his breath about
reckless blonde idiots.

It was a good thing, she reminded herself. A baby would only complicate matters. She had a
war to fight and Draco was in too much danger. With pursed lips, she wondered if Voldemort
would be visiting Malfoy Manor over Christmas to check on Draco’s progress. For Draco’s
sake, she hoped he wasn’t. For his sake, she hoped his Occlumency was strong enough to
hide what they had done from him. Voldemort wasn’t likely to be forgiving towards the boy
who had deflowered The Girl Who Lived.

Shaking her head, she chose to change the subject: “So you and Lavender haven’t…?” she
asked coyly.

Ron’s face turned a lovely shade of pink but was saved from answering by the appearance of
a very flustered Mrs Weasley. Christmas with the Weasley’s was very different to Christmas
at Privet Drive, and for that Harry was forever grateful. Yet as she watched Mrs Weasley fuss
over sleeping arrangements and the number of carrots they’d need, she couldn’t help but
wonder what a Christmas with the Malfoys would be like. She couldn’t see Narcissa cooking
or Lucius sat by the fire peeling a satsuma idly by the radio as the Weasleys did. There would
be no paper garlands or handmade stockings hanging over the fireplace with their initial
stitched on in gold thread. She imagined silverware and a professionally decorated tree
without a single piece of tinsel anywhere in sight. Maybe at some point one of them would
play carols on the grand piano as the fire roared and dusk settled over the Manor. Without
Lucius there, she wondered if the Malfoys would even be celebrating Christmas or would the
need to pretend nothing was wrong force the pair into decorating the Manor.

“What have you been up to then, Harry? Ron has told us you’ve been working on getting into
Slughorn’s good graces,” Mr Weasley eventually perked up.

Harry blinked, looking around at the sleepy guests now slumped around the room including a
rather weary-looking Remus. “Yes, I-I actually wanted to speak to you about that. When we
were at Diagon Alley this summer, we saw Draco sneaking into Borgin and Burkes…”

She explained in a hushed tone what she had seen in Knockturn Alley that day, and all the
strange things that had been happening since. She noted Remus tilt his head, listening to
every word she said. Eventually, she got to the part where she was overhearing Snape and
Draco when Mr Weasley threw a look that Harry had grown all too familiar with. The same
look every adult in the Order gave her when she told them things she saw or heard.

“Has it occurred to you that Snape was simply pretending to-?”

“Help Draco so that he could out what he’s up to and tell us?” She scoffed, “Yeah, funny
thing is that if he can’t get his own godson to trust him, he’s not doing very well as a spy, is
he?”

“You are determined to hate him, Harry,” Remus piped up with a faint smile across his lips.

“Can you blame me? He singled me out the moment he met me as a punching bag for his
issues with Dad and Sirius. He’s tried to get me expelled. He ‘accidentally’ let it slip you’re a
werewolf so you had to leave!” she growled.

Remus glanced down at her sadly. “That would have come out one way or another. Besides,
he was the one making the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month so I didn’t have to suffer
every full moon. He could have quite easily tampered with it, but never did.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that he only did so on Dumbledore’s orders? Or to ensure his
potion-making abilities could never be questioned?”

“You sound just like Sirius,” he smiled fondly. “By all means tell Dumbledore what you
heard, but don’t be surprised if he just repeats what Arthur and I have said. Snape is trusted
by Dumbledore, and therefore by me.”

“Well, I don’t. Even Dumbledore can make mistakes sometimes.”

A part of her hoped she was wrong about Snape, but he had never given her any reason to say
that he was trustworthy. Saving her life once didn’t mean anything. Plenty of people had
helped her before, that didn’t mean she had to trust every one of them.

----

There were too many people bunched around the table on Christmas Day with all the
Weasleys, Fleur, Remus, and Harry squished in on the end by Ron. It was just like every
other Christmas she had spent with them, wearing Weasley jumpers and exchanging crackers
with Fred and George. Mrs Weasley kept sending disgruntled looks at Fleur and Bill who
seemed happy enough to ignore her as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Harry couldn’t
blame them. It had been common for meals with the Malfoys for her and Draco to forget the
adults were with them, until Lucius would clear his throat and tell them they could leave the
table. Personally, Harry felt that Mrs Weasley could do worse by means of daughters-in-law.

“Arthur, it’s Percy!”

Harry’s head shot up to see Percy striding across the snow-covered yard with another man at
his side. Percy seemed just as hardened and avoid of the Weasley warmth as he had been the
last time she’d seen him. She found it hard to believe that he was here on a whim, after all the
grief he’d put his parents through.

“Arthur, he’s brought the Minister!”

With a roll of her eyes, Harry wondered what it was that had lured the Minister of Magic out
of his own home on Christmas morning. There wasn’t anything remotely interesting to an
official at The Burrow, except perhaps Harry. She glanced over at the cake Mrs Weasley had
made for dessert and hoped Ron would have the decency to spare her a slice. In her
experience, politicians took forever to get to the point.

“Please, come in, sit down, Minister!” Mrs Weasley flustered as the pair entered The Burrow.
She immediately threw herself into Percy’s arms who stood still for a moment, as if unsure
what to do with his mother.

“You must forgive the intrusion,” Rufus Scrimgeour drawled. “Percy and I were in the
vicinity -working, you know- and he couldn’t resist dropping in and seeing you all.”

Harry cast a glance at the others and saw the irritation on the other Weasley children’s faces.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Percy got bitch-slapped by either of the twins once the Minister
was out of earshot. She hoped someone got it on camera for her.
“-I’ll just take a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. Ah, that young lady has
finished, why don’t you accompany me?”

With a scoff, Harry scraped her chair back and passed the others silently. She placed a
reassuring hand on Remus’ shoulder who had half-risen from his chair. She slid her boots on
as well as Sirius’ leather jacket before stepping outside, the Minister following closely behind
her. She breathed in the scent of her godfather for comfort as the air turned her breath into
tendrils of smoke.

She considered Scrimgeour with a wary gaze. She knew that he had been the Head of the
Auror Office under Fudge, and seemed to be the antithesis to Fudge in every way. Instead of
a short, portly figure in a bowler hat, the new Minister was battle-scarred with a thick mane
of hair that had streaks of grey. He had an air about him, not unlike Moody’s. In a way, that
made him somewhat preferrable to Fudge who came across as a bumbling idiot at times.
However, it did make her wonder just what kind of politician he was.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for some time, you know,” he said eventually as they took in the
overgrown garden.

Harry felt his yellowish eyes assess her. “Oh?”

“Oh yes, but Dumbledore has been very protective of you. I had hoped that for an occasion to
talk to you once I took office, but Dumbledore -naturally- has prevented this.”

Harry glanced back at him, her face impassive as she waited for him to continue. “There have
been such rumours lately. No wonder Dumbledore wants to keep you out of the limelight.
Your relationship with young Malfoy-”

“Former relationship,” she corrected sharply.

His eyes lit up with interest at that. “Ah, I see. My apologies. Probably for the best anyway,
considering all these whispers… of you being the ‘Chosen One’.”

‘Ah. There it is’, Harry thought with a slight smile. The one place in the world Harry Potter
was easily accessible to was in The Burrow, and with Percy in tow, Scrimgeour had found
himself an excuse to come over.

“I assume Dumbledore has discussed this with you?”

“Hmm? Yes, once or twice,” she replied with an air of nonchalance.

“And what has Dumbledore told you?” he asked carefully.

Harry sighed wearily. She considered for a moment being honest with the new Minister. He
wasn’t a fool like Fudge was, and wasn’t blind to what was going on around him. But then,
Harry wasn’t really in the mood to be kind. Not when her quiet Christmas was being
interrupted with an unwarranted interrogation.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say,” she replied coolly.

She half-listened to him as he explained why it didn’t matter if she was the Chosen One or
not. Something about public perception. Harry rolled her eyes. Public perception had never
particularly been on her side. At first, she had been this wide-eyed child celebrity who the
Wizarding World adored. Then she was a traumatised teen who had created a delusion to
combat watching Cedric die. Now she was the Chosen One, and half the world thought she
was their saviour. Either way, her name was kept in the media cycle.

“-you are a symbol of hope, Harry. The idea that somebody out there is destined to destroy
He Who Must Not Be Named -well, naturally it gives people a lift. And I can’t help but feel
that, once you realise this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the
Ministry and give everyone a boost.”

Brows furrowed, she asked: “You want me to ‘stand alongside the Ministry’. What exactly
does that mean?”

“Nothing too onerous, I assure you,” Scrimgeour replied with an easy smile. “If you were to
be seen popping and out of the Ministry from time to time. Seen with the right people.
Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror Office, would be more than happy to
talk to you. Dolores Umbridge told me you had ambitions on becoming an Auror-”

The wind changed direction and a strange chill filled the air, making the Minister tug his coat
closer around him. When he looked down at Harry, he found himself looking into a pair of
green eyes that burned with unbridled hatred.

“Dolores Umbridge should be rotting in a cell in Azkaban not giving you advice on how to
appeal to me,” she snarled.

Swallowing thickly, he continued: “She was suspended-”

“That’s not good enough!” Her voice echoed across the surrounding fields, scaring off a
murder of crows that flew off into the pale grey of the winter sky. “Do you know what she
did to me? To Hogwarts? Do you know how many of us were tortured for simply wanting to
learn magic? That woman shouldn’t be free.”

“I see this is a sensitive topic for you.” He paused, his eyes flickered as his brain worked to
find a new way to lure Harry in. “If I was to suspend her, ensure the case goes to trial, would
this influence your decision to support the Ministry?”

She shot him a pointed look. “You’re kidding right? Why would I want to support a
government that arrests the innocent and allows monsters to roam free?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said through barely gritted teeth. “These are dangerous
times and the Ministry must appear strong. You are sixteen years old-”

“-and I have survived more things in the past sixteen years than you probably have in your
whole career,” she snapped. “Do not underestimate me. Fudge made that mistake. Look what
happened to him.”

His smile was tight and didn’t reach his eyes. “Be that as it may, the Ministry-”
“The Ministry has done a tremendous job of pissing me off,” she muttered dryly. “First, my
godfather was wrongly accused of a crime and incarcerated without so much as a trial.
Second, your predecessor created a smear campaign against me when I tried to tell people
Voldemort was back. When that didn’t work, he sent his lackey to Hogwarts who tortured and
drugged the students on a daily basis.”

“Fudge was -I’ll admit- misguided…”

Harry scoffed, “And yet I don’t remember you rushing to my defence. So why the hell would
I help you now?”

The Minister was no longer trying to conceal his anger as he snapped, “Some would say it is
your duty to be used by the Ministry!”

“I have no interest in being used as your pawn, Minister. The only authority I listen to is
Dumbledore,” she spat. “And even then, I’ve broken over a dozen school rules.”

“What is Dumbledore up to?” he asked with a steel gaze. “Where does he go, when he is
absent from Hogwarts?”

“No idea,” she sighed, twirling a lock of hair around her finger idly.

“Would you tell me if you did?”

“No.” Pushing her glasses further up her nose, she sniffed, “And if you try and pull anything
like Fudge did, I wouldn’t like your chances of staying in office.”

He was quiet for a moment, assessing her shrewdly. “Dumbledore’s girl through and through,
aren’t you?” he said coldly.

“You only just figuring that out, Minister?” she muttered dryly before heading back into the
house.

----

In the days before term began, the snow had melted around The Burrow and now Harry
peered out of the random windows up the staircases to see barley fields. It would be strange
to go back to sleeping in the Slytherin dormitories after a week sleeping in Ron’s rooms,
listening to his snores and complaints about Lavender chapping his lips. Yet she had slept
peacefully. That put her on edge more than it should have. She had done something so simple
to defy the man intent on possessing her: sleeping with another. However, her nights had not
been plagued by nightmares and she had not seen him lurking in her reflection. ‘Maybe he
doesn’t know’, she thought idly.

She heard Remus at the door, preparing to leave and assuring Mrs Weasley that he would be
fine. His voice then stilled, and she found herself creeping down the stairs to see what it was
that had stopped their conversation. A whooshing sound came from outside and fire quickly
ignited in a circle around The Burrow. Once the fire met into a circle, its creator appeared: an
all too familiar black-haired witch.
‘That bitch’, she thought before pulling her wand out of her pocket and bolting down the
stairs. Bellatrix hovered until she saw Harry running towards her and ran through the fire into
the open fields.

“Harry, no!”

She was too fast for Remus’ hands to catch her though. It was neither wise or brave to run
through fire, away from the adults who had sworn to protect her. But Harry had never
claimed to be either, and so ran through the barley fields after the cackling witch.

“I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black,” she chanted merrily.

At one point the taunting stopped and Harry found herself standing alone in the field, the
stalks towering over her head. Her feet stumbled across mud and eventually puddles, her
boots wading through melted snow as she tried to hear Bellatrix’s movements.

“I’m not afraid of you, you bitch! Come out here and fight,” she yelled.

Something rustled behind her, but she no longer believed it to be Bellatrix. In fact, she didn’t
feel the witch’s presence at all now.

A sense of dread overcame her as she watched the barley stalks part and a lone figure
emerge. Dressed in a suit, the collar of his shirt was undone, exposing the sharp lines of his
collarbone and his pale skin. His red eyes roved over her form, making her shiver from the
intensity of his stare.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not wise to run off alone?” he drawled.

Harry swallowed thickly. “You know me, Tom, never was one for following the rules.”

He hummed in amusement, stepping closer with calculated steps. “And every time you do,
you just end up running straight to me? Keep it up, and people will say we’re in love.”

Her lip curled up in disgust. “Well, if you stopped trying to trap me, I wouldn’t see so much
of your ugly face.”

“So rude,” he tsked. “And after I came all this way just to see you?”

She watched as he began to circle her, his predatory gaze never once leaving her. “What do
you want, Tom?”

He winced at the use of his birth name before stopping, turning so that he was facing her.
“You.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said through gritted teeth.

He smiled, an oddly condescending look, “Of course you aren’t. You’re my Chosen One,
after all. My equal. How the Wizarding World will fall at your feet, sweet girl, when I make
you mine.”
“I’m not yours, Tom.”

He hummed, “Not yet perhaps but you will be. One day, you will realise your true place by
my side… not in the arms of a mere boy.”

Her eyes widened at the thought of Draco. “Don’t you dare-!” she snarled.

Raising a hand, he sighed, “I have no interest in killing him. Whilst I would have cherished
having you first, it would be wrong of me if I did not allow you to sow your wild oats as I did
at your age. As long as that is all it remains.”

“You don’t own me, Tom!” she cried.

“Oh, don’t I?” He flicked his wrist and she felt her body freeze instantly, her eyes flickering
around in panic as she watched him stalk closer to her. “Even now you are powerless against
me. Not like that Malfoy boy. I bet he doesn’t know how much you think about me, does he?
Or what it is you truly desire?”

Harry groaned in protest, forcing her lips to open to speak as he disappeared behind her.
“Shut the fuck up.”

“Silly boy, he doesn’t know what you yearn for at night, does he? He cannot see inside your
mind like I can.” She felt his breath on the back of her neck, almost mistaking it for the
December breeze. “Oh, how it must have hurt to watch him walk away. To leave you all
alone again.”

“Stop,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

“I will never leave you, Harry. I can promise you that.” He moved then, his hand moving up
to hold her in place as he talked. His hand caressed her neck, cupping her jawline as his lips
traced the curve of her neck. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To belong to someone. Forever.”

Her breathing hitched at his touch, unsure if it was from fear or some buried dark desire only
Voldemort knew to uncover. “No…”

He placed a single kiss against her pulse. “Oh, how I wish I could spirit you away right now
and wipe away that boy’s claim on you. But alas, there is a war I need to win. Oh well.” He
kissed her neck again. “Good things come to those who wait.”

She felt her body return to normal just as she felt his presence disappear from the field.
Weakened by his spell, she crumbled to her knees.

Harry groaned as her face planted against the floor of Ron’s bedroom. She heard Ron grunt
awake, lighting the room with his wand. “What you doing on the floor?”

“Yoga,” she grumbled as she pulled herself back onto the bed.

“I thought he wasn’t sending you dreams anymore,” Ron said once the room was plunged
into darkness again.
Harry closed her eyes and murmured, “They’re not dreams. They’re warnings.”

When Ron didn’t say anything else, she allowed herself to drift back to sleep, willing
Voldemort to not reappear.
 Amortentia Problems
Chapter Notes

Oh, the angst is coming for Harry. Enjoy this lovely little chapter of the love potion
incident.

The soft chuckle that emitted from the headmaster warmed something deep in Harry’s gut as
she stood in his office once more. “Ah, Harry. I don’t think we’ll ever find a Minister or
official you like, will we?”

“Not until Hermione’s Minister, no,” she smirked. She had been happy enough to divulge
Scrimgeour’s attempts at winning her over to Dumbledore as soon as they returned back to
Hogwarts. The headmaster naturally, thought the whole thing was very amusing.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled in the candlelight. “Ah, now that would be interesting. You
don’t see yourself in politics?”

“No more than you do, sir.”

He regarded her with a fond smile before turning his attention back to the Pensieve. “Now,
back to business. When we last spoke, we saw how Tom Riddle came to Hogwarts. Now I
will show you a memory I am very lucky to have procured, that of his uncle Morfin.”

“He met his family?”

“Not quite. By the time Tom had managed to trace his mother’s family tree, Marvolo Gaunt
was long dead. His uncle, on the other, hand was still in Little Hangleton.”

The water swirled and Harry looked down to see the water distort into the image of the Gaunt
family home, now in even further disrepair than it had the first time she had seen it. She
watched intently as Voldemort talked with his uncle, who was more decrepit than he had been
in the first memory. She saw a young man, bitter and vengeful for those who had wronged his
mother. A part of her blanched at the thought, that she could empathise with him. Hadn’t she
broken up with Draco for using racial slurs? Hadn’t she wanted Sirius then Peter Pettigrew
dead for betraying her parents? Her own temper flared often in defence of her loved ones; she
couldn’t begrudge him for murdering his own father for abandoning Merope. Even if the
circumstances were a little more complex than appeared.

-----

Nothing in the Hogwarts Library had anything on Horcruxes apart from a few vague
mentions that Hermione had managed to find. It was rather irritating, as was the fact that
Slughorn had shut her down quite quickly when she’d tried to ask him about it. What was
worse was how Draco kept disappearing with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, sharing secret looks
and hushed tones as they passed her in the common room. They hadn’t spoken since that
night of Slughorn’s party and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon. It hurt to see him so
actively avoiding her, and yet sometimes when their eyes locked across a room or the
courtyard there was a pained look in his eyes.

With a frustrated sigh, she returned to her study table where she’d left Hermione reading
through another volume, to find a box of chocolates on top of her things. “Who left these?”

Hermione grunted, not looking up from the pages. “No idea.”

Harry rolled her eyes. It was quite easy to sneak past Hermione when she was reading, it was
how Fred and George had managed to get away with so much despite not having the map
anymore. Harry slumped into her chair and examined the red box of chocolate cauldrons.
There didn’t seem anything unusual about them, but somehow, she doubted they were from
Draco. Draco knew her favourite sweets were those strawberry filled white chocolates things
he would buy her from London every time he went home for Christmas. She glanced around
the Library for her secret admirer and frowned when she couldn’t see anyone remotely
interesting.

Ron sighed wearily as he slumped into the chair beside her. “I don’t know how much longer I
can do this.”

“Care to expand on that?” she muttered dryly.

“Lavender. My lips are chapped, my jaw aches, and now she’s giving me sodding jewellery,”
he hissed. He tugged at the necklace she had given him for Christmas. “Why? Why would
she think I’d want this?!”

“Maybe she thought it’d match your bubbly personality?”

“Harry, I’m serious,” he whined. A book slammed shut as Hermione left the table with a huff.
“And she’s no help. Just keeps sending birds at me whenever I bring it up.”

Harry shot him a pointed look. “Ron, I love you mate, but you can be incredibly dense at
times.” With a sigh, she pushed the chocolates over to him. “Here. Help yourself.”

Ron grumbled a thanks before shoving one into his mouth.

----

Eventually, Harry gave up on the Library and dragged a sluggish Ron alongside her as they
headed back to their common rooms. Hermione had long since fled after Ron had started
ranting about Lavender again, her mouth set in a firm line that Harry knew she’d have to deal
with in the morning. Meanwhile, Ron had become strangely silent but she amounted that to
the fact he’d eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons. She paused, suddenly realising Ron
was no longer standing next to her. She looked behind her to find Ron staring dazedly up at
the night sky.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The moon,” he sighed dreamily as she walked back to him.

“Yeah. Real pretty. C’mon,” she said, tugging on his arm.

Ron spun around with a blissful grin on his face, holding the box of chocolates to his chest
tenderly. “I think I’m in love.”

Harry furrowed her brow. “Er… ok? What’s with the sudden change of tune? I thought she
was doing your head in.”

Ron blinked. “Who are you on about?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Cormac McLaggen.”

Harry’s eyes bulged wide at that. “Cormac-? What the-?” She burst out into laughter until
Ron threw the chocolates at her. “Hey!”

“It’s no joke, I’m in love with him!” he whined.

With a sigh, Harry collected herself again. “Ron, besides the fact that you already have a
girlfriend, are you trying to tell me that you -Ronald Weasley- are in fact coming out to me
right now. Not only that, but you’ve fallen in love with a lad you once told me was an
‘egotistical prick’?”

Ron nodded dumbly. Harry pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering how on earth she was
going to explain this to Lavender and Hermione. A flash of red caught her attention and she
knelt down to the discarded box of chocolates on the floor, plucking out the small
handwritten note tucked between the layers. ‘

“Ah shit. C’mon, Ron, I’ll take you to Cormac,” she grunted as she stood to her full height
and grabbed his hand. “I think he’ll be in Slughorn’s office.”

“Why would he be there?”

“Remedial Potions.”

“Do you think I could ask him to give me extra lessons too?” he asked eagerly.

“I’m sure Slughorn will be thrilled,” she muttered dryly.

Slughorn was very surprised to see them both this late, especially with Ron stroking the stone
walls of his doorway in between lovestruck sighs. “Harry, dear, did we have an
appointment?”

“So sorry, Professor, but Ron has accidentally eaten chocolates laced with love potion. You
couldn’t make him an antidote, could you? I’d take him to Madam Pomfrey but we’re not
supposed to have anything from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes…”
“Of course. Surprised you didn’t whip something up yourself,” he said

“Well… I’ve never mixed an antidote for a love potion before, sir, and by the time I get it
right Ron might’ve done something…”

“I can’t see him, Harry – is he hiding him?” Ron moaned.

Slughorn shot Harry a look. “Him?”

“Cormac McLaggen. Don’t ask,” she grunted as she wrestled Ron through the doorway.
“C’mon, Ron. Just in here.”

She managed to manoeuvre him onto a nearby chair whilst Slughorn fiddled about making an
antidote. “He’s not here, Harry,” Ron whined as he looked around the room.

“He’s coming, Ron.”

“How do I look?”

Slughorn appeared at their side, holding a glass of something. “Very handsome. Now, why
don’t you take this for your nerves?”

Ron gulped it down greedily before slumping in his seat. He awoke shortly afterwards to
Harry patting his cheek rapidly with a scowl across her face. “What happened?” he gasped.

“Love potion. A very strong one at that,” Slughorn mumbled as he made his way over to his
drinks cabinet. “You need a pick-me-up, my boy. Got Butterbeer, wine, some dazzling oak-
matured mead. I had other intentions for this but given the circumstances.”

Slughorn poured out three glasses and handed one to each of them, Ron taking a large gulp of
his. The effect was instantaneous and Ron slipped to the ground, his body seizing whilst foam
spilled from his mouth. Harry rushed to Ron’s side, looking back at Slughorn in panic.
“Professor, do something!”

Slughorn merely stood there in shock. Harry growled lowly before sprinting over to
Slughorn’s open potions kit. Rummaging through various jars and pouches, she eventually
found the shrivelled kidney-like stone she’d read about in the Halfblood Prince’s textbook
notes. She was back at Ron’s side instantly, shoving the bezoar into his mouth.

----

“Won-Won!”

“Fuck my life,” Harry groaned as Lavender burst into the Hospital Wing.

“Miss Potter,” McGonagall said warningly.

Harry sat at Ron’s bedside in the Hospital Wing wondering when exactly her life had become
a romantic comedy as she foresaw the inevitable fight that was happening over Ron. Ron.
The man who ate his weight in food but never put on a pound, snored loudly, and had the
emotional range of a teaspoon. It was a strange situation to be a spectator of, but in this
current scenario she was fulfilling the reluctant role of the best friend who gave snarky advice
and rolled her eyes.

The teachers had arrived not long after Madame Pomfrey had opened the Wing up for visitors
once Ron was stabilised. They now stared curiously at Lavender who was almost crying at
the sight of Ron only to scowl at the sight of Hermione.

“What’s she doing here?” Lavender demanded.

Hermione huffed, “I could say the same to you.”

“I happen to be his girlfriend.”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Well, I happen to be…his friend.”

“Don’t make me laugh. You’ve barely spoken to each other in weeks. I suppose you suddenly
want to make up with him, now he’s interesting.”

Harry let out a loud groan as she ran her hands over her face in anguish, silencing them both.
“Will you both pack it in already? The last thing Ron needs is you two squabbling over him.
So, I suggest you both shut up and sit down before I kick both your asses into next term,” she
growled.

Ron then chose that moment to stir, groaning as he came back to consciousness. “Er-mi-ne,”
he mumbled. “Hermione.”

Lavender’s face fell and she departed the Hospital Wing in a burst of tears. Harry winced at
the sound of her wailing and hoped that she wouldn’t wallow in her heartbreak too long. It
had only been three months, after all.

The teachers watched the scene in confusion, except for Dumbledore who smiled as if he had
just been watching his favourite programme. “Ah, to be young and feel love’s keen sting.
Well, come away, everyone. Mr Weasley is in good hands here.”

The others left with small smiles, and Harry watched with a smirk as Hermione sat on the
edge of the bed, holding Ron’s hand. Her gaze flicked up to Harry and blushed profusely,
“Oh shut up.”

Harry put her hands up in defence before leaving the Hospital Wing. She just hoped that
she’d be witnessing a lot less kissing and lovestruck gazes from now on. As she passed one
of the stairwells, she caught sight of Draco sneaking quietly up the stairs again. She paused at
the sight of him. Whoever had given Slughorn the poisoned mead hadn’t known how
hospitable Slughorn was, but had clearly given it in order for it to gifted to Dumbledore. ‘Is
that your mission, Draco? Is that what he’s making you do?’ she wondered sadly before
continuing down to the common room.

----
She entered the Slytherin common room with sagged shoulders and tired eyes, slumping into
the nearest sofa where Blaise just happened to be sat reading. “Where did you run off to last
night?”

“Oh, Ron nearly died and I had to take him the Hospital Wing,” she mumbled against the
pillows.

Blaise paused. “Do you mind expanding on that, love?”

“McLaggen -the dumb fuck- gave me chocolates laced with love potion and Ron ate them by
mistake. I took him to Slughorn to get an antidote. Ron then drank some mead which was
poisoned, and was meant for Dumbledore. So, I have had a very eventful couple of hours.”

She heard the thud of a book closing and Blaise exhaling slowly through his nose as if trying
to stay calm. “I see,” he replied calmly. “Are you alright though?”

“Yeah, I didn’t drink any of it.”

“I meant about Weasley. That must have been hard for you to watch.”

Slowly Harry sat up onto her knees, her eyes brimming with tears. “I-I guess. I-I just…” she
said with a quivering bottom lip. She then burst into tears and was quickly pulled into a tight
embrace by Blaise who allowed her to sob loudly into his arms.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” she wailed.

“Who?”

“Tom. I just wish he’d leave me alone…”

Blaise had a rough idea of who ‘Tom’ was, having listened in on many of her and Draco’s
conversations over the years. He exhaled deeply, allowing her to bury her face into the crook
of his neck as she cried. He was thankful that Draco had already snuck away for the evening,
but he knew that word would spread to the blonde’s ears. He’d be reluctant to ask, of course,
until the lights were out in their dormitory and he had ensured Harry was tucked up in bed.
But Blaise already knew he would tell Draco not to worry about it, that it was handled. He
knew because he had warned McLaggen not to go near Harry again, and he hadn’t listened. If
there was one thing any Slytherin was masterful at, it was revenge.
 Where Is My Mind
Chapter Notes

TW: Suicidal Thoughts

Harry feels a strange pull towards Voldemort whilst still suffering some serious angst
over Draco in this chapter. Plus, a little nod to some good old Grindledore

It unnerved Harry to see Tom Riddle in Dumbledore’s office with his crimson eyes and
almost photoshopped good-looks. She stood beside Dumbledore’s desk, watching him closely
as he made his way to sit in front of the newly-established headmaster. This wasn’t the
student she had seen memories of before, now he was the young man she was used to
appearing in her own dreams.

“I heard that you had become Headmaster,” he said, his voice slightly pinched as if the
thought irritated him. “A worthy choice.”

“I am glad you approve. May I offer you a drink?”

“So, Tom… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Voldemort’s mouth pinched. “They do not call me ‘Tom’ anymore,” he said coolly. “These
days, I am known a-”

“I know what you are known as,” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. “But to me, I’m afraid, you
will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of the irritating things about old teachers, we never quite
forget their charges’ youthful beginnings.”

The other’s face was expressionless as he quietly assessed the Headmaster. Harry knew how
much his birth name used by either Dumbledore or herself unnerved Voldemort. It was
strange though that he would dare return to Hogwarts, knowing that the Headmaster who
liked him had since retired. Dumbledore was not Professor Dippet, and would not be so
inclined to respect Voldemort as the exemplary student he had been.

“I am surprised you have remained here so long. I always wondered why a wizard such as
yourself never wished to leave school.”

Dumbledore merely smiled as he handed him a drink of whiskey that the other ignored in
favour of keeping his eyes trained on the headmaster.

“I have returned,” he said eventually. “To request again what Professor Dippet once told me I
was too young to have. I have come to you to ask that you permit me to return to this castle,
to each. I think you must know that I have seen and done much since I left this place.”
Harry watched warily as Dumbledore considered his words before speaking. “Yes, I certainly
do know that you have seen and done much since leaving us. rumours of your doings have
reached your old school, Tom. I should be sorry to believe half of them.”

“Greatness inspired envy. You must know this, Dumbledore.” His words echoed what he had
told her in front of the Mirror of Erised all those years ago, hissing from the back of Quirrel’s
head.

“You call it ‘greatness’, what you have been doing?” Dumbledore asked delicately.

“Certainly. I have experimented, pushed the boundaries of magic further than they have ever
been pushed-”

“Of some kinds of magic,” Dumbledore corrected quietly. “Of others, you remain woefully
ignorant.”

A strange smile spread across Voldemort’s lips that Harry had become all too familiar with in
the past three years. “Ah, but I have never seen anything to support your favourite line that
love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore.”

There was a knowing look in Dumbledore eyes as he adjusted his glasses. “Perhaps you have
been looking in the wrong places.”

It seemed strange to think that maybe Voldemort had tried to look for it. Had wished for
somebody to prove him wrong, that the only power in the world was power. Maybe.
Although a part of Harry considered he just liked pushing Dumbledore’s buttons. The feeling
appeared to be mutual. She listened intently as Dumbledore outsmarted Voldemort, telling
him about the Death Eaters he knew were staying in the Hog’s Head that evening. There was
something about Dumbledore’s words that nagged at her, as if there was something she was
missing. But then Dumbledore set down his glass and pressed his fingertips together as he
often did when Harry found he was tired of the conversation.

“Let us speak plainly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request
a job we both know you don’t want?”

Voldemort blinked in surprise. “On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much.”

“Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts of that I have no doubt, but not to teach. You don’t
want to teach any more than you did when you were eighteen. So what is it that you’re really
after, Tom?”

“If you do not want to give me the job-” he sneered.

“Of course, I don’t,” Dumbledore said simply. There was an edge to his voice that Harry had
long since associated with conversations with Fudge or other officials who thought they
could outwit the Headmaster. “Nevertheless, you came here for a reason. What was it?”

As Voldemort rose from his seat, his red eyes met hers and Harry stilled. She felt the ghost of
his lips against hers and for a moment, thought he would pounce on her and force her back
against the office’s walls. He didn’t.

Instead, he glared at the Headmaster and hissed: “This is your final word?”

“It is.”

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other.”

Dumbledore sighed wearily, his face softening as he took in the man his student had become.
“The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and make you
repent. But I wish I could, Tom… I wish I could…”

Harry noted the way Voldemort’s hand twitched slightly but not even he was stupid enough to
draw his wand inside of Hogwarts in front of its Headmaster. She watched instead as he
turned away and slammed the office door behind him. She felt herself step forward as if to
follow him when a hand settled onto her shoulder and the memory before her faded away.

----

The water of the Black Lake lapped against the cobbled beach as Harry perched on a large
rock, tossing stones into the lake as she considered the best approach to get Slughorn’s
memory. A shadow appeared over the water suddenly, a lone figure, and she instantly knew
who it was. No sound of movement. No smell of aftershave or parchment. Just the familiar
scent of the Scottish countryside.

“Not in the mood, Tom.”

Voldemort smiled easily as he stood beside her, the bottom of his suit soaked by the lake.
“Oh, but I think it is. You were thinking about me so clearly, precious. I couldn’t help but
heed the call."

Snorting, Harry skimmed another stone across the water, leaving ripples in its wake. She
picked up another and raised her arm to skim it when her gaze flickered back to him. Harry
hesitated and put down the stone with a huff. “You know what’s really fucked up about all of
this?”

Voldemort said nothing, merely inclined his head for her to continue. “The fact that I get it.
The hatred against Muggles. The need to be adored. I get it. All that loneliness and anger can
eat away at you, like it nearly did me. I nearly killed Sirius in Third Year, a combination of
false information and headstrong teen. But I would have done it, without hesitation or
remorse.”

She licked her lips nervously. “Before I hated you because you killed my parents and were
this psychopath. Now I know your whole story. The whole plot of your Great Expectations.
And that terrifies me.”

“Why is that, precious thing?”

“Because I see how easily I could have become just like you.”
She met his gaze then, and she noted the flicker of interest in his eyes as he moved to stand in
front of her. He placed a hand over her knee and she didn’t flinch at his touch, almost
conditioned to it at this point. It worried her that she wasn’t more repulsed by it.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he almost-whispered.

“Yes, Tom,” she said softly. “Because then what was the point of everything?”

She threw the last stone at the water, watching as it distorted the vision of him until he blew
away on the wind. The stone plopped to the bottom of the lake and Harry wiped away the
lone tear that fell down her cheek.

----

Something slid into place as Harry managed to pull Katie Bell aside, freshly returned from St
Mungo’s. There was only one person in the entire castle that Voldemort wanted to be rid of,
beside herself. She glanced up at the empty Headmaster’s chair and her heart sank. Katie
looked over her shoulder and a strange look crossed her face as if she was trying to remember
something. She knew it was Draco. The look in his eyes as she turned around to follow
Katie’s gaze only proved it. Fear. She looked back at him with imploring eyes, hoping that he
wouldn’t run again and instead tell her he was choosing her. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t.

She didn’t follow him. Mostly because when she tried, she was distracted by Tonks bumping
into her with another message that Dumbledore had gone again. Her eyes lingered on the
bags under the normally-chipper witch’s eyes and wondered if she looked just as forlorn to
the others as Tonks did to her. A part of her did wonder if it was Sirius whose death had
broken her heart, but thought better of it. Sirius was her cousin, after all. That would be like
Harry having a crush on Dudley. She shuddered at the thought and returned to Ron and
Hermione. There would be time to stalk her ex-boyfriend later, she decided.

----

‘I shouldn’t have looked’, she thought as she crept through the castle to the boy’s bathroom
Draco was hiding in. She had seen on the map that for once, Draco wasn’t accompanied by
Crabbe and Goyle but by Moaning Myrtle. When she finally found herself outside of the
boy’s bathroom, she hesitantly pushed the door slightly ajar and slipped inside. Draco stood
with his back facing the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink with his pale blond
head bowed. His shoulders appeared to be shaking and Harry’s heart clenched at the
realisation that he was crying.

“Tell me what’s wrong… I can help you…” Moaning Myrtle crooned.

“I can’t do it…I can’t. It won’t work…and unless I do it soon…he says he’ll kill me-!”

A tear fell down Harry’s own cheek and she let out a shuddering breath. Draco gasped, and
with a great shudder looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his
shoulder. Wheeling round, he drew his wand at aimed it at. Instinctively, Harry drew her own
wand. They both hesitated at uttering a hex, their tongues both felt thick and their hearts
clenched at the thought of what they were possibly about to do. This wasn’t the first time
they had duelled, but this time there was no anger directed at the other only misery.

“Harry… please, don’t make me do this,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” she said coolly.

“What do you think it is?”

Her hand shook slightly as her anger built with her words. “The necklace. The poisoned
mead. It’s not a coincidence, is it? They were meant for Dumbledore.”

Draco avoided her gaze but his wand stayed aimed at her. “I-I’m not having this discussion
with you, Harry. Go back to the common room.”

“What are you doing in the Room of Requirement?” she demanded. “Why are disappearing
all the time? It’s Voldemort, isn’t. He’s given you a mission to earn back his trust. That’s it,
isn’t?”

“Why can’t you just leave it alone?” he pleaded.

Her grip on her wand tightened as she hissed, “I won’t let Voldemort take anyone else from
me, Draco. I won’t!”

Something shifted in Draco’s gaze as he finally met her gaze. “We can’t always get what we
want, Harry.”

His hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the scones on the wall behind her. Draco then
blocked her answering jinx and raised his wand for another, edging closer towards the door.

“No! Stop it!” Moaning Myrtle cried.

As they continued to cast spells at the other, Harry realised that Draco wasn’t actually aiming
them at her. They were all spells he knew she could deflect. Before she could stop to confront
him about it, he darted from the bathroom and down the hallway. Harry bounded after him,
her mind briefly recognising the way to the Room of Requirement as she tried her best to
keep up with him.

“Draco, please!”

Draco hesitated in front of the entrance as the door revealed itself. The door appeared long
enough for Draco to slip through before it vanished behind him and Harry fell to her knees in
front of the sealed entrance. She banged her fist against the stone wall as tears pricked her
eyes. The stone scratched at her skin, bloodying up her knuckles as she beat her fists against
the wall.

“Please… Draco, please open up,” she sobbed. “Open the fucking door!”

She wasn’t sure how long she was there but eventually she felt a pair of arms picking her up
and carrying her away. Her crying continued, now slightly muffled by the neck her head was
tucked under. Familiar aftershave clogged her nostrils in between sniffles and she glanced up
to see Blaise, his face impassive as he carried her away from prying eyes.

“Blaise, please! He’s gonna-I can’t-I can’t-!”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’ll take care of everything,” he murmured. Harry
leaned further into his arms, breathing in his comforting scent and allowing her eyes to close.

----

‘It would be so easy’. The sky was clear, perfect weather for stargazing but Harry’s gaze was
settled firmly on the ground below. The Astronomy Tower was naturally vacant this time of
night, and the only sound were that of the owls and leaves rustling in the wind in the distance.
It was a long way down, she’d admit but she had fallen from several heights in her life so far.
This would be nothing. It had taken her a while to get to this place, or maybe perhaps she had
always been headed to this moment. What was the point of drawing it out if she thought she
would hesitate killing him? If the boy she loved was lost to her forever? What was the point
of being The Girl Who Lived? Wouldn’t it be better to stop all the rumours and the
prophecies with one little step off the tower?

She stood on the edge and took in a deep breath. ‘You can’t touch me now, Tom’, she thought
and lifted her foot to take that final step. Then in an instant, a hand grabbed her by the arm
and pulled her back from the ledge, arms securely holding her flush against a chest as she
struggled against the hold.

“Let me go! I want to-I want to go,” she sobbed. She thrashed about until the person holding
her stumbled backwards and they both ended up on the floor of the Tower. “I can’t do it
anymore. Please. Please, let me die.”

“No.”

Harry stilled at the sound of Dumbledore’s voice. “P-professor?”

“Harry”, he said softly. “I know how you feel right now, but this isn’t the answer.”

“You couldn’t possibly-!” she hissed.

Dumbledore’s hold on her tightened slightly. “Oh, but I do. More than anyone.”

Slowly, Harry turned around to face him and found a sad smile lingering on his face. “You
do?”

He nodded, releasing his hold of her and moving to sit across from her, his knees bent and
hands folded together as if he was contemplating his words. “I doubt you know much about
my history, Harry, not many do. Not the early events anyhow. If you did, you’d know that I
was once a very angry young man, disillusioned by the way of the world and what it had
brought unto my family. I wanted it to end. The pain, the guilt: everything. What I felt back
then and ever since then, I imagine are what you are feeling right now.”
Harry ran a hand down her face, wiping her tears away roughly before readjusting her
glasses. “I’ve lost the man I love to a dark wizard. And I think I’m beginning to care for the
man I’m meant to kill. Is that what you wanted, sir? For me to not want to kill him?”

The Headmaster’s lips twitched into a smile, “No. I wanted you to learn something about
yourself. Through our lessons you have grown to understand the boy Tom Riddle and in your
own way empathised with him. You don’t want to hurt him, because you see yourself in him
and he in you. But that part of yourself is only a slither of who you are, Harry.”

“I don’t understand it though. I-I should hate him for what he’s done to me but I-” she
spluttered.

“A part of you is holding out for that slither of goodness in Tom Riddle to prevail. I
understand wanting to find the goodness in others, I do. But Lord Voldemort, I fear, is a lost
cause. He is the darkness to your light. The hatred to your love.”

“Neither can live whilst the other survives,” she recited under her breath. Shaking her head,
she looked back up to the sky as if the answer would appear to her in the stars. Instead, she
allowed a prickling thought to take over.

Harry hesitated before asking, “Why did you never fall for his charms, sir? Everyone else
did.”

Dumbledore pursed his lips. “Perhaps because I once loved a man very much like him.
Charming. Handsome. Very persuasive. And I watched as that man became the darkest
wizard of our age. I guess I became immune to them over time.”

“The man you lo-” Harry blinked, thinking back to the summary at the back of Dumbledore’s
card in a Chocolate Frog in First Year. The act that made the professor infamous in the
Wizarding World. “You were in love with Gellert Grindlewald?”

Dumbledore nodded. “My greatest achievement and my greatest failure. You see, even
though I knew what Grindlewald was, what he was capable of: I couldn’t kill him.
Fortunately, the feeling was mutual and we both emerged mostly unscathed from our duel.”

Harry stared at him in disbelief. She had not been expecting that, but it did explain why the
Headmaster was considered a ‘confirmed bachelor’. “Well, at least that’s one thing we have
in common, sir. Shit taste in men,” she muttered dryly.

Dumbledore laughed softly, “Indeed.”

Looking back at the stars, she sighed, “I think my ex-boyfriend’s trying to kill you, sir.”

“I’ll try not to take it too personally.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and muttered, “I tell you someone’s trying to kill you and that’s
your response? Merlin, maybe we are the same.”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “I’ve known for some time that Voldemort had something
planned for Draco Malfoy.”
“Then why didn’t you-?!” she spluttered, her anger spiking.

He raised a hand to silence her and shot her a pointed look. “You know as well as I do that
Voldemort will never feel secure in his rise to power until I am gone. It’s only natural he
would send someone to do the deed for him, and more typical of him to send a vulnerable
child. I did try and intervene, of course, through Professor Snape but it seems Draco no
longer trusts his godfather. Anything else might have placed Narcissa in greater danger.”

Harry considered Dumbledore for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. Dumbledore
knew about Draco. Snape was, just like Remus and Arthur Weasley had told her, following
Dumbledore’s orders. It was just like any other year at Hogwarts. Except this time, Voldemort
had set his sights on Draco Malfoy.

“But why did he want Draco-?”

Dumbledore sighed wearily, “I would imagine he considers it a levelling of the playing field,
so to speak. He knows you will never return his desire for you when another holds your
heart.”

Harry scoffed, “That’s an understatement.”

“You will never forgive him for killing your parents. You will never forgive Bellatrix for her
role in Sirius’ death. And you would never be able to forgive Draco if he killed me.
Voldemort knows this, and when his father was sent to Azkaban, I can imagine that young
Draco found he was in a position where he couldn’t refuse. In ridding himself of an obstacle,
Voldemort deprives you of two people you love. Two birds, one stone I believe is the phrase.”

Harry removed her glasses to clean them with the edge of her shirt before placing them back
up her nose. “This heroism gig isn’t all its cracked up to be, you know?” she muttered.

Dumbledore smiled sadly, “No, no it isn’t.”

----

Draco returned to the dormitory shortly before curfew, and found Crabbe and Goyle already
passed out on their beds, snoring loudly. There was a single candle still burning by Blaise’s
bedside, the Italian-born wizard glancing at him over the top of his book.

“For someone conducting espionage, you should work on your timekeeping.”

Draco scoffed, “Sod off.” He undressed without another word and threw his duvet over
himself. He stilled and glanced back at Blaise. “Why was Cormac McLaggen found naked on
the Quidditch pitch?”

“Hmm? Oh, he did something rather foolish regarding our sweet Harriet and I had to
intervene,” Blaise replied with a quirk of his lips. “No lasting damage but I think he got the
message.”

For a moment, he considered pressing the matter but thought better of it. Blaise had taken on
the role of protector of Harry in Draco’s absence, and he trusted the other boy to fulfil the
role dutifully. His thoughts went to the dark-haired girl who had been plaguing his rare
thoughts that weren’t focussed on his mission and scraping by on schoolwork.

“She…” Draco’s voice trailed off. “How is she?”

Blaise let out a weary sigh and closed his book. “She is doing remarkably well, all things
considered. A couple of random outbursts and uncontrollable crying, but nothing I can’t
handle. Now if you would stop this nonsense and beg her forgiveness, we could return to our
regularly scheduled programme of sharp words and lovestruck idiocy.”

Rolling over, Draco muttered against his pillow, “You know I can’t. And when this is over…
she’ll never want me again.”

“She loves you, Draco. What could he make you do that would make her stop loving you?”

Draco said nothing, his lips pursed as if to stop himself from telling Blaise everything. He
knew the other boy would slap him and tell him to tell Harry. To tell Dumbledore. To tell
Snape what was happening. But Draco remembered the night Voldemort came to Malfoy
Manor, had forced Draco to his knees as he asked to prove their family’s loyalty to the Dark
Lord, if only to spare their lives. He remembered the flicker of amusement in those crimson
eyes as Voldemort had tilted his head and given him the order. He remembered how he had
flinched at the words, the protest dying on his lips at the sight of the cruel smirk on the
others’ lips. Voldemort knew what he was doing by ordering Draco to carry it out, not
someone Harry already didn’t trust like Snape.

“I have to break her heart,” he murmured.

Blaise huffed and blew out the candle at his bedside, plunging the dormitory into darkness.
“Then may I say, you are doing a remarkable job.”

Draco smiled sadly, a lone tear falling onto his pillow. “Believe me, I know.”
 Teacher's Pet
Chapter Notes

Nearly at the end of Halfblood Prince now, with a little chapter on Slughorn's memory
before we get to the emotional journey that is the Astronomy Tower. Enjoy!

Feeling quite proud of herself, Harry stood before Aragog’s open grave and patted Hagrid’s
elbow as the half-giant sobbed. Truthfully, Harry didn’t understand how Hagrid could care
for a creature that would have quite happily eat him any given day. Or something that had
ordered its children to eat herself and Ron that night in Second Year. Yet as she looked down
into the grave and noted the overturned spider motionless before her, the beast didn’t look so
frightening. That may have been the Felix Felicis though. She wondered if this was what it
felt like to be high.

“Merlin’s beard! Is that an actual Acromantula?” Slughorn cried as he appeared beside them.

“Not everyone appreciates how beautiful they are. Seriously misunderstood creatures, spiders
are. It’s the eyes, I reckon. They unnerve some folk.”

“Not to mention the pincers,” Harry muttered dryly.

Hagrid shot her a pointed look. “Aye, that too.”

Harry noted the way Slughorn eyed the dead creature greedily. The man was nothing but an
opportunist, after all. “Hagrid, my dear man. I don’t wish to appear indelicate but
Acromantular venom is uncommonly rare. Would you allow me to extract a vial or two?
Purely for academic purposes.”

Hagrid shrugged, “Go ahead. Not gonna do him much good now, is it?”

Slughorn extracted the venom from Aragog’s corpse, said a few words on Hagrid’s behalf
and eventually they ended up exactly as Harry predicted. Sat by Hagrid’s fireplace, whilst the
two teachers drank from Hagrid’s bucket-sized mugs. Harry knew better than to partake, and
instead watched intently for the perfect moment to catch Slughorn off-guard.

“I had him from an egg, yeh know,” Hagrid slurred. “Tiny little thing he was when he
hatched. ‘Bout the size of a Pekinese. A Pekinese, mind you.”

“Sweet.”

With a sly smile, Harry waited until both professors were deep in conversation about the
illegal trade in dragon eggs to enchant their mugs. The Refilling Charm kept them in high
spirits long enough for their inhibitions to lower, and eventually Hagrid’s head slumped
backwards and he began snoring loudly.

Slughorn turned to Harry, his cheeks pink and his eyes glassy. “I know why you’re here. But
I can’t help. It would ruin me.”

Harry cleaned her glasses before flashing him the most beautiful yet sorrowful eyes the
professor had ever seen. “Did Dumbledore ever tell you how I survived that night? It was
because of Mum. She sacrificed herself so he wouldn’t get to me. Dad was already dead and
he told her to move, to run. He only wanted me.”

“Harry, I don’t see-”

“Because this time Mum isn’t here to stop him from getting to me. He doesn’t just want me
dead either. He’s become quite fascinated with me,” she continued with a pointed look.
Revulsion flickered over Slughorn’s face as tears filled his eyes. “Please, Harry. It’s not a
matter of whether or not it’d help you…but no purpose can be served…”

“He won’t stop till the world follows him. He won’t be stopped by the people I love begging
him to spare me. Voldemort will stop at nothing till he gets me.”

“Don’t say his name!”

“I’m not afraid of him or his name, Professor.” She licked her lips and leaned in closer,
meeting his gaze. “The rumours are right: I am the Chosen One. Only I can destroy him but
in order to destroy him; I need to know what Tom Riddle asked you all those years ago in
your office and I need to know what you told him.”

Slughorn stared back at her, looking slightly terrified. “You’ve no idea what he’s capable
of…”

“I do though! I watched him come back in Fourth Year. I have had my mind invaded nearly
every night, plagued with dreams of him staking his claim over me. I know you’re scared of
what he’d do to you, Professor, but so am I.”

She paused, taking a minute to collect herself. “Be brave, Professor. Be brave like my mother.
Otherwise, what was the point of all of this? Of these past fifteen years?”

Slughorn nodded meekly and raised his wand to his forehead. “Please don’t think badly of
me when you see it. You’ve no idea what he was like. Even then.”

The silver thread of memory came away from his forehead and he placed it into one of the
vials he kept on his person. He corked the bottle whilst Harry held his hand to steady him.

“Thank you very much, Professor.”

“So much like your mother…” he murmured before he too fell asleep on the table.

She held the vial up triumphantly with a smirk and turned to leave. Just as she did, she heard
him say: “So much like him...”
Harry stilled, warily glancing back to where the two professors were fast asleep. She
examined the vial for a moment and with a roll of her eyes, she left the hut.

----

Dumbledore said nothing as the memory vanished before them, turning to sit down on the
steps before his desk. “I have been hoping for this piece of evidence for a very long time,” he
said at last. “It confirms a theory I’ve long been working on.”

“He made a Horcrux then? That’s why he didn’t die in Godric’s Hollow?”

“Yes, and not just one. You heard Voldemort, what he particularly wanted from Horace was
an opinion on what would happen to the wizard who split his soul more than once. No book
would have given him such information. As far as I am aware, no wizard has ever done more
than tear his soul in two.”

“And they can be anything?”

Dumbledore opened a drawer within his desk and presented the familiar black leather book
with a hole torn through the centre, and the Gaunt family ring. “Four years ago, you brought
me this book. The diary had been a Horcrux, one that he had so flippantly given away to be
used by another. If this was his only one, he would not be so careless with it for risk of it
being destroyed, as you so kindly did.”

“So he’s made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people? And you think there are
more of these out there?”

Dumbledore nodded. “It would fit with the way Lord Voldemort had seemed to grow less
human with the passing years. The transformation he had undergone seemed to me to be only
explicable if his soul was mutilated beyond the realms of what you’d consider usual evil. I
would not be amiss in assuming he wanted to split his soul into seven Horcruxes.”

“Seven? We have to find seven of these things? Are you fucking serious?!” she screeched.

“Language, Harry,” he scolded lightly. “Not seven, but I believe six are in existence.”

“And they can be anything? A shoe? A rubber duck?”

Dumbledore chuckled, “You are thinking of Portkeys, Harry. Think of Voldemort. He is

hardly going to put his soul into a tin can. I told you once that Voldemort was a collector, and
it stands to reason he would put his precious soul into equally valuable objects -at least, to
him anyway.”

Her mind raced thinking of the different items in Voldemort’s memories. “The locket!
Hufflepuff’s cup!”

“Yes,” he smiled. “I would hazard a guess they became Horcruxes three and four. Having
secured two items belonging to Hogwarts’ founders, he likely set out to trace objects from
Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Four objects belonging to the four founders would, I am sure, have
exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort’s imagination. I do not know whether he found
anything of Ravenclaw’s, but I assure you that the only known relic of Gryffindor’s remains
safe.”

Harry glanced behind his desk at the ruby-encrusted sword of Godric Gryffindor, her lips
quirked up into a fond smile. “That’s why he wanted to come back to Hogwarts, isn’t it, sir?”

After a long discussion on what Voldemort was possibly using as Horcruxes, Harry slumped
into her chair, exhausted from the information overload. She glanced at the battered diary on
the desk, remembering the way the ghost of Tom Riddle had disappeared right in front of her
as she’d stabbed the book with a Basilisk fang. It was doable, was what she imagined
Dumbledore was trying to tell her. It had nearly killed her the first time though and the ring
had mutilated Dumbledore’s hand. It was doable, but it would probably irrevocably change
them. It didn’t sound any different to any other dealings she’d had with Lord Voldemort.

“So, that’s it then. If we find all the Horcruxes and destroy them, we destroy Voldemort,” she
sighed. “How on earth are we going to find them though?”

“True, but dark magical objects such as these always- ” As Dumbledore spoke, Harry reached
out to touch Marvolo’s ring which spun around quickly, emitting a high-pitched ringing
before falling back onto the desk. “-leave traces.”

Dumbledore glanced at Harry curiously as she unkinked her neck, “I think I have found
another one, but I fear I would be asking too much of you again.”

“I’m at your disposal, Professor,” she smirked.

----

“It’s getting late, Harry, you should be getting to bed,” a voice drawled from behind her.

Harry turned around, her robes brushing against the floor as she did so. “But, sir, I wanted to
ask you something.”

“Ask away then, sweet girl.”

She glanced up at the figure lounging in a high-back chair by the fireplace, swirling a glass of
whiskey in his hand. Dark eyes looked back at her beneath a curtain of almost black hair, a
lazy smirk spread across his lips as he settled further into the chair.

“Sir, I wondered what you know…about Horcruxes?”

A dark eyebrow raised itself in amusement. “Horcruxes? Why would you want to know
about something like that? Certainly not for a project I’ve assigned you.”

“I came across the term whilst reading in the Restricted Section, and I don’t fully understand
it.”

With a sigh, he lowered his glass from his lips and replied: “Horcruxes are a subject mostly
considered taboo. You would be hard-pressed to find a book that gives you details of them.”
“And yet you know all about them, sir?”

“Obviously,” he smirked.

“Would you tell me, sir?” she asked coyly.

His eyes raked over her, assessing her for a moment. He took another sip of his whiskey
before finally settling on his next move. “It would be incredibly risky of me to tell you about
them, Harry. But maybe, if you made it worth my while, I could be persuaded to tell you
more.”

Harry raked her hands through her hair, ruffling it as she often did, with a smirk, “And what
could I possibly offer you in return, Professor Riddle?”

“Get on your knees, Miss Potter.”

Harry went without a second thought, kneeling in front of him as he took another sip from his
glass. He parted his legs so that she could settle comfortably between them and leaned down
to cup her jaw tenderly.

“Now,” he purred. “I want you to listen very carefully to what I have to tell you.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

He stroked his thumb along her bottom lip as he leered: “Good girl.”

Leaning back into his seat, he slowly moved his robes aside and unzipped his trousers. He
lifted his hips enough to pull his trousers and underwear down, exposing his member to the
warm air of the office. He smirked as he noted the way Harry’s eyes widened slightly at the
sight of it.

“Go on now, open wide,” he chuckled softly, grasping himself so as to guide it into her now-
open mouth.

Hesitantly, she enveloped the head of his length, wrapping her lips around him and holding
him in her warm mouth. It was a strange feeling, and her instincts told her to fight off the
foreign object but she persisted. Relaxing her throat, she swallowed more of him until he
seemed satisfied.

“Mind your teeth, precious thing.”

She obeyed him eagerly, not wanting to incur his wrath if she didn’t. He was the most
charismatic of all the teachers, and many students glanced at him appreciatively as he walked
the halls. Girls and boys alike fought for his attention with extra credit assignments and
aiding him in the simplest of tasks. It was a wonder he did any work at all. But in this
moment, his eyes were focussed solely on her. She moaned softly around him at the thought,
which sent vibrations along his length.

He hummed appreciatively and spoke softly: “Now then, a Horcrux is the word used for an
object in which a person has concealed a part of their soul.”
She removed her mouth with a ‘pop’, looking up at him with swollen lips as she panted, “I
don’t quite understand how that is done, sir.”

“You split your soul, you see,” he replied with a groan as she returned her mouth on him.
“And hide a part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one’s body is attacked or
destroyed, one cannot die. “

He reached down to tangle his fingers within her dark curls, gently keeping her head in place
as it bobbed up and down his length. Leaning his head back against the leather of the chair,
he smiled in contentment.

“That’s it. Such a good girl for me,” he murmured.

Spurred on by his words, she sucked harder, licking her tongue along the head until he began
to tense. He let out a spluttered gasp and suddenly he was coming into her mouth. The taste
was a bitter salty flavour that she didn’t quite care for, but she didn’t let her face betray her.
She left a final kiss to the head of his length as it began to soften before wiping his mouth.

“Thank you, sir. You were most informative.”

He let out a rich hearty laugh at that. Tucking himself away, he then leaned down to capture
her lips in a tender kiss. “You really are my favourite student,” he purred.

Harry replied with an answering smirk, “And you my favourite teacher, sir.”

As Harry slipped her glasses onto her face the next morning, she considered three things.
One, that she really needed to stop reading Petunia’s smutty novels when she was bored.
Two, that she appeared to have an unforeseen praise kink. ‘Figures’, she thought with a roll
of her eyes and forced herself out of bed. The third was perhaps the most horrifying: that
dream and all it entailed, had been of her own design.

----

It worked. It had taken months, but it finally worked. Draco sighed in relief and placed his
forehead against the now-polished wood of the Vanishing Cabinet. There was nothing to
worry about now. He would let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and Voldemort would praise
his hard work. He wouldn’t have to worry about his mother being killed or his father having
his soul sucked out by a dementor on Voldemort’s orders. His family was safe again.

He stilled. Almost safe. He glanced at the wand in his hand and suddenly felt a wave of
remorse. He still had to kill Dumbledore though. That was what Voldemort wanted most, for
Dumbledore to be dead and Harry to be left crying over his body. The image appealed to
something dark and twisted inside the Dark Lord’s soul. To Draco though, it meant that those
green eyes he loved so dearly would look at him with revulsion just like they did Voldemort.
The curses would spill so easily from her lips then, her screams of anguish ringing
throughout Hogwarts as her pain shook the very foundations of the castle.

He knew whose arms would wrap around her and offer her comfort. Whose face would be
clawed at whilst she swore and sobbed. He could picture the black robes encircling Harry’s
exhausted form as she was carried off to the gilded cage the Dark Lord would build for her. It
sickened him, but it seemed that the thoughts and feelings of two teenagers were nothing
compared to the whims and desires of Lord Voldemort.

With a snarl of frustration, he threw a dust-covered vase at the wall and watched in
satisfaction as it broke into pieces. It was all he could do not to break and run to her side. He
crumbled to his knees and the sound of his sobs echoed throughout the Room of
Requirement.

----

Harry climbed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, cautiously slowing her steps as she heard
the familiar tones of Snape’s voice. Anger simmered within her at the sound of it, having
learnt from Professor Trewlaney’s ramblings that it had been Snape who had told Voldemort
about the prophecy. It was Snape who got her parents killed and the Longbottom’s tortured. A
fact that she was unwilling to ever forget. Snape glared at her as they passed each other on
the stairs in silence, and then he was gone in a flourish of black robes. She wasn’t particularly
fond of the idea of leaving Snape and Draco unsupervised for too long, but then again they
couldn’t hurt Dumbledore if he wasn’t in the school.

She hoped that Ron and Hermione would keep an eye on the map, noting if Draco
disappeared suddenly and alert the Order as she’d told them to. Hermione had been reluctant
to let her go, wary of what her journey with Dumbledore with entail. But Harry wasn’t
scared, and she didn’t have a drop of Felix Felicis in her. Dumbledore would keep her safe,
just as he had always done. Yet something nagged at her as she crept her way up the stairs to
the Headmaster. There had been a strange look in his eyes as he’d told her they would be
going to destroy another Horcrux. A look that made her think of the look in Sirius’ eyes when
she’d first met him and aimed her wand at his throat. Resignation. Shaking her head, Harry
continued up the stairs and resolved not to think much more on it.

“Ah, Harry,” he said cheerfully as he turned to face her. He paused to glance over her and
smiled fondly. “It amazes me sometimes how much you’ve grown in such a short space of
time. Sometimes I see you and still see the girl sat under the Sorting Hat. You once hated
being a Slytherin, and now… I think the Hat chose wisely, don’t you?”

Harry smirked and curtsied before him, “I’d have to agree, Headmaster. Green does suit me
awfully well.”

He chuckled but then his laughter faded and he regarded her coolly, looking out onto the
skyline. “I promised you could come with me, and I will stand by it. However, there is one
condition: you must obey every command I give you, without question.”

“Yes, sir.”

He looked intently into her eyes as he ordered: “Should I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell
you to run, you run. Should I tell you to abandon you and save yourself, do so.”

Harry stared at him, her mouth agape. She couldn’t fathom the idea of abandoning him, but
she supposed if there was any time to obey orders, it was now. “Yes, sir.”
Dumbledore nodded and offered her his arm. “Now, take my arm.”

“Sir, I thought you couldn’t Apparate within Hogwarts,” she said hesitantly.

Dumbledore smirked, “Well, being me has its privileges.”

With an answering smirk of her own, Harry held onto Dumbledore’s arm tightly. She felt
herself being pulled away from the stone floor of the Astronomy Tower until her feet landed
again on something hard and jagged. Her nostrils were instantly filled with the strong scent of
the sea and as she opened her eyes, she saw a cave cut into the rockface that seemed strangely
familiar to her.
 Elegy For A Headmaster
Chapter Notes

Here we go, guys. Actually proud I've managed to get out three chapters so quickly.
Anyhow here's the Astronomy Tower scene - enjoy!

It took mere seconds for Harry to register something was wrong. The effects of what had
happened in the cave still clung to the Headmaster, and she was still unnerved by the fact she
had seen said-man cry in front of her, pleading to hallucinations. She wouldn’t tell anyone
though. Dumbledore trusted her enough to take her with him, trusted that she would get him
through whatever obstacles Voldemort had put in place. Yet she knew it would haunt her, as
much as it would haunt Dumbledore.

She eyed the thick clouds closing in over the castle and the eerie silence of the evening. She
didn’t trust silence at Hogwarts, it never meant anything good. Once she had him settled, she
would find Ron and Hermione, and check the map for anything untoward in the castle. But
first, she needed to get Dumbledore to the Hospital Wing.

“We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey, sir,” she said as she helped him sit down.

“No. Severus. I need Severus…” he said clearly. “Tell him what happened and bring him to
me.”

Harry hesitated, the thought of seeing Snape filled her with disgust. What could he do that
Madame Pomfrey couldn’t? “But, sir-!”

“You said you would do as I asked. Now go, and speak to no one else.”

Harry nodded and hurried to the door, faltering at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.
She glanced back at the Headmaster whose eyes lit up and he forced himself to stand again.

“Hide yourself, Harry,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

She managed to throw the Invisibility Cloak on from her pocket in time before slipping under
the stairs to the level below. Through the gap where some strange sculpture of the planets
hung, she was able to see Dumbledore. The door burst open and into the moonlight stepped
out Draco.

“Good evening, Draco,” Dumbledore said calmly. “What brings you up here this evening?”

Draco’s eyes flickered nervously around the room as if expecting something or someone to
jump out from the shadows.
“Draco, you are no assassin.”

“How would you know what I am? What I’m capable of? You’ve no idea what I’ve done.”

“Oh, yes, I do,” Dumbledore replied coolly. “And so does Harry. You almost killed Katie Bell
and Ronald Weasley in your desperate attempts to kill me. Forgive me, Draco, but your
attempts have been so feeble, I have to wonder if your heart has truly been in it…”

“It has!” Draco hissed. “I’ve been working all year on this. I was-I was chosen.”

Dumbledore’s gaze drifted to glance down at where Harry stood below. “That’s why you
ended your relationship with Harry, isn’t it? To keep her safe? So, Voldemort couldn’t use
you to get close to her?”

Draco winced, “She-she has nothing to do with this.”

“You and I both know that Harry has everything to do with this. Lord Voldemort’s obsession
with her and this school, are the reasons why you are here tonight.”

“Expelliarmus!”

Dumbledore’s wand clattered to the floor which the Headmaster considered with a sigh.
There was a sound of a commotion below that made Harry flinch, almost forgetting that the
castle was occupied.

“You aren’t alone, are you? However, did you manage it?” he asked curiously.

For a moment, Harry thought Draco wouldn’t tell him. His mouth twisted as if fighting the
urge to shout or vomit. Whatever was going on downstairs had reawakened the fear she had
seen in the boy’s bathroom the other night. “I mended the broken Vanishing Cabinet in the
Room of Requirement.”

Dumbledore sighed, almost a groan as he closed his eyes. “That was clever… it has a twin,
has it not?”

“In Borgin and Burkes. They made a passage between them. Borgin had forgotten all about it,
but I realised there was a way into the school if I fixed the one here.”

“Ingenious. And so, tonight there are -as you said- Death Eaters in the school. They’re here to
ensure you fulfil your mission, aren’t they? And if I were to hazard a guess, to take Harry
with them if they can find her.”

“They won’t find her. They won’t…” His voice wavered as did his hand and then he said
calmly: “Granger and Weasley won’t let them. They’ve always kept her safe.”

“You have such trust in the people around you, and yet you never confided in anyone what
you were up to. What your true purpose here was.”

Draco sniffed, “Yeah, well, it’s not like anyone suspected anything. Except Harry, of course,
but she always thinks something’s wrong.”
“I have known what you were up to since the beginning of term.”

Harry watched carefully as Draco froze. “You knew…? Then why didn’t you stop me?” he
demanded.

“I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders-”

A strained laugh escaped Draco as he grasped at his hair. “He’s a double-agent, you stupid
old man. Harry tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen!”

A strange smile crept over Dumbledore’s lips. “Harry and Professor Snape have always had a
tense relationship, the pair of them accusing the other of misdoings since First Year. It
becomes a little repetitive after a while.”

The wand was aimed back at the Headmaster as the younger man replied: “You should have
listened to Harry. Maybe then there wouldn’t be Death Eaters in Hogwarts tonight.”

“Perhaps.” Dumbledore’s head tilted as he glanced over Draco’s shoulder to the door. “There
seems to be a delay though.”

Draco huffed, “I was supposed to be waiting for you when you got back, only your Phoenix
lot got in the way…”

“Yes, they do that,” Dumbledore muttered dryly.

There was a moment of silence between them both then Dumbledore’s face softened. “If you
kill me, Draco, you will lose her forever,” he murmured.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I’d be here if I didn’t have my reasons?” Draco’s
face screwed up as tears pricked his eyes. “Don’t you understand? I have to do this.”

His voice faltered the longer he stared at the Headmaster. “I have to kill you… or he’s going
to kill me.”

Footsteps echoed up the staircase and all three of them stilled as the door opened again and
four people in black robes burst through the door. Harry recognised Bellatrix instantly, her
blood boiling beneath her skin at the sight of her. The others were unknown to her, but
Dumbledore’s eyes flickered with recognition. Meanwhile, Draco tightened his grip on his
wand, narrowing his gaze at Dumbledore, looking every bit the part of the would-be assassin.

Bellatrix chuckled darkly as she came to stand beside Draco, leaning in and placing a kiss to
his cheek. “Well done, Draco.”

Draco flinched at her touch, but didn’t say anything. Harry wanted to grab her wand and
throw a curse up through the floorboards at her. She could hear the fighting continuing below,
and almost sighed in relief at the thought that the Order was on its way.

“Ah, Bellatrix. Amycus,” Dumbledore said calmly as if he had simply invited them for tea.
“And you’ve brought Alecto too…charming.”
Behind them stood a rangy man with matted grey hair, his Death Eater robes looking
uncomfortably tight against his large form. Through the gap in the floor, she spied that he had
long yellowish nails, almost like claws that were tinged red at the tips.

“Is that you, Fenrir?” Dumbledore asked.

“Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?” the man rasped.

“Not particularly, no…”

Fenrir Greyback grinned, exposing his pointed teeth and the blood that trickled down his
chin. “Oh, but I couldn’t resist coming along. You know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore wrinkled his nose, “You always did have a morbid personality. I had hoped
you’d grow out of it.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and stepped closer to the Headmaster. “As touching as this reunion
is, we’re on a little bit of a tight schedule this evening.”

“Ah, I trust you weren’t able to find Harry then?” he asked slyly. His eyes cast downwards to
where Harry was hiding.

“Your lot intervened before we could get anywhere near the dungeons,” Bellatrix sniffed.
“Besides, this is a higher priority. Come on, Draco.”

Everyone turned their gaze back to Draco who seemed more frightened than he had been
when he first entered the Tower. Harry reached into her pocket and removed her wand, more
than happy to give away her position if it meant sparing both Draco and Dumbledore. She
wouldn’t let Voldemort take both of them away from her.

“He doesn’t have the stomach for it,” Fenrir snarled. “Let me do it.”

“No! The Dark Lord was very clear,” Bellatrix hissed. “He wants Draco to do it. Go on,
Draco!”

Harry’s heart caught in her throat as the door burst open a third time and Snape entered the
room, his wand at the ready. ‘Maybe I was wrong about Snape’, she thought briefly. ‘He
won’t let Dumbledore die. He wouldn’t. Not with the Order downstairs.’

“Severus…”

Snape said nothing, but walked forwards so that he was in front of Draco. The other Death
Eaters fell back as Snape examined the pale face of the Headmaster. His face twisted as
flashes of revulsion and hatred ran lines across his face. Harry faltered at the sight.

“Severus…please.”

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. “Avada Kedavra!”
A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape’s wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the
chest. The force of it pushed Dumbledore backwards, over the edge of the Astronomy Tower
and out of sight.

For Harry, it was as if she had witnessed Sirius falling through the veil all over again. Her
mouth was open in a silent scream as she collapsed to the floor. She didn’t see Snape grab
Draco by his collar and lead the Death Eaters out of the Astronomy Tower, or Bellatrix cast
the Dark Mark over the school. Dumbledore’s last words ran around in her mind until she
eventually caught her breath. Picking up her wand, she pocketed her Invisibility Cloak and
with silent determination, she followed them out of the Tower. If Death had come to
Hogwarts, then she would make sure that Dumbledore was not his only victim that night.

----

The grounds of Hogwarts seemed to go on for miles as Harry ran from the castle after the
Death Eaters who fled the castle. She shot curses and hexes at any who dared cross her path
as she ignored the confused cries of her friends as they fought them off. Then Hagrid’s hut
came into view and she listened to the demented cackles of Bellatrix as the Death Eaters set it
alight. She heard Fang’s barks as Hagrid did his best to defend the spells being sent his way,
but bounced off his giant’s skin. Appeased knowing Hagrid was fine, she set her sights on the
set of billowing black robes and the blonde running alongside him.

“Snape!” she roared. Her voice trembled the ground around them, causing Draco to stumble
and the pair of them to turn around to face her. “He trusted you!”

Snape’s face hardened. “Run, Draco!”

She saw the hesitation on Draco’s face before he continued to run till he was out of sight and
out of Hogwarts. She felt her heart break a little more at the sight and raised her wand in
anger.

“Incarc-” Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm. “Fight back you
coward, fight back!”

A spell hit her in the shoulder and she fell to the ground, writhing in pain. She heard Bellatrix
cackle and then Snape’s voice, as furious as her own: “No! She belongs to the Dark Lord.
Now, go.”
Harry regained her footing and raised her wand again, staggering blindly towards Snape as
they were left by the others. Snape then turned with the same emotionless face Harry had
come to loathe, before walking away.

“Sectumseptra-!”

Snape was quicker to repel this spell, knocking Harry to the ground with a flick of his wand.
This time, Harry struggled to catch her breath as she heard Snape stalk over to her, towering
above her with his wand at the ready.

“You dare use my own spells against me?” he hissed. “I-the Half-Blood Prince. You dare?”
Harry shot him a look of pure hatred. What did it matter if she died right now? If he picked
her up and took her back to Voldemort? As far as she was concerned, Voldemort had already
won. Her mentor lay dead at the foot of the Astronomy Tower whilst the boy she loved
apparated away with his fellow Death Eaters. Death would seem an easy escape from the
pain that coursed through her. Tears pricked her eyes as she coughed, her breathing unsteady
as she looked back at him.

“Kill me then,” she wheezed. “I know you want to.”

Snape said nothing, merely looked down at her as if trying to decide something. “If you let
me live, I will kill you,” she continued. “I swear it.”

Snape’s face twisted in a manner that reminded her of Voldemort before he lowered his wand
and walked away. With a hiss, she pulled herself up to her knees and watched his figure walk
further away.

“Coward!” she screamed.

Harry felt a white-hot pain slash across her and she was slammed back against the ground.
This time, she didn’t try to get up. She grasped at the grass beneath her fingers and allowed
the tears to fall freely.

----

There was a large crowd gathered under the Astronomy Tower by the time Harry managed to
get back up to the castle. The crowd parted for her until she knelt beside Dumbledore’s body.
She had thought it was worse seeing him in the cave, but nothing could have prepared her for
the sight of him now. His body was splayed at a strange angle, his limbs twisted from the fall
and his eyes were closed. For a moment, you could believe he was simply sleeping. Harry
reached out and straightened his half-moon spectacles upon his crooked nose and wiped the
trace of blood from around the Headmaster’s mouth with her sleeve. The locket had fallen
from his pocket which she examined with a bitter smile for a moment. She stilled. This
wasn’t Slytherin’s locket. It was nothing like the one from the memories Dumbledore had
shown her, there wasn’t even an engraved snake on the front. ‘It was all for nothing’, she
thought with a shaky breath.

Pocketing the locket, she placed a hand over the man’s chest and felt tears begin to fall from
her cheeks when she couldn’t feel a heartbeat. Within seconds, she began sobbing hard and
flung herself over his body. Her cries echoed across the grounds and gripped at the hearts of
her audience. Between Harry’s crying and that of Fawkes who circled above their heads,
there wasn’t a dry eye in the courtyard. Around her, students and teachers lifted their wands
to the sky in silence as if lighting candles to mourn for the great wizard. Above their heads,
though no one noticed, the Dark Mark dispelled from the light of their wands as a lone
phoenix sang a lament.
 Time To Say Goodbye
Chapter Notes

And that's HalfBlood Prince! This chapter is angst-filled but its Dumbledore's funeral so
its to be expected. Enjoy!

Grief was slowly becoming like an old friend to Harry that gripped her tight and held onto all
the rage and misery that it brought her. It was strange, she was almost beginning to forget
what not being in mourning felt like. She had eventually been pulled away from his body and
led to the safety of the office, away from prying eyes and the mutterings of curious students.
Standing amongst the professors in Dumbledore’s office, Harry examined the ashes beneath
the perch Fawkes usually sat on. The phoenix’s song still hung over the castle as
Dumbledore’s body was moved and the heads of houses assembled to make plans for the
funeral and the affect Dumbledore’s death would have on the school.

Hogwarts wouldn’t close, Harry knew that much. They would mutter about it, and ponder
whether or not anyone would want to go to school where a murder happened. Hogwarts
would still be open come next September though, just as it had the year Moaning Myrtle died
or when Cedric Diggory died. Death wouldn’t close the school – she wouldn’t let Voldemort
win that way. Hogwarts would always be there for the magical children of Britain, that much
Harry was certain and would do as much in her power to ensure it.

The professors were deep in conversation when something caught Harry’s gaze. On the desk
was a gold brooch in the shape of an ornate phoenix, its wings spread and in its talons was an
amber orb. She had seen it once or twice adorning the Headmaster’s robes. She considered
Sirius’ leather jacket Dumbledore had gifted her at the beginning of term, and wondered if it
would be appropriate to take the brooch to remember the Headmaster with.

“The Minister’s coming,” McGonagall sighed wearily as she looked down at the grounds
from the window. “And he’s brought a delegation…”

“Can I leave, Professor?” Harry asked suddenly. The brooch was now safely concealed in her
back pocket as she turned to face them. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the Minister
right now, nor did she particularly want to answer anyone else’s questions about what
happened and where they had been all evening.

McGonagall nodded. “Of course, dear. Quickly.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice, and sped down the strangely abandoned corridors until she
entered the Slytherin common room. To Harry’s surprise, the common room was jam-packed
and as she entered, all eyes turned to her. The entire house was mingled around the common
room, waiting for her with sad eyes.
Blaise walked towards her slowly as she made her way to the middle of the room. “Harry…”

Within seconds, Harry crumbled to her knees and began crying again, Blaise’s arms
enveloping her. No one offered sympathies or apologies. They were just there, watching with
sorrow-filled eyes as she cried and for once, that was all Harry needed.

----

Hundreds of chairs had been placed looking out onto the lake, half of which were already
taken up by various witches and wizards. The entire Order of the Phoenix, Madam Malkin
from Diagon Alley, the driver from the Knight Bus, and the barman from the Hog’s Head,
were among those Harry recognised. Even the castle ghosts shimmered in the sunlight, barely
visible alongside the living but their presence was noted. The rest of the seats were filled by
the staff and students of Hogwarts, who solemnly made their way down the aisle in their
houses. There was a hum of talking as people greeted each other and offered the staff their
condolences, particularly McGonagall who had orchestrated the entire funeral single-
handedly.

The whispers from the crowd seemed to intensify at the sight of Harry walking down the
aisle to take her seat, her hand tightly held by Blaise. She chose to ignore them, instead
focussing on keeping her breathing steady. Her black dress felt constricting against the heat
of the day, form-fitting and short-sleeved with a lace overlay that covered her shoulders and a
thick collar that had a black ribbon tied around her neck. Dumbledore’s brooch was pinned
just above her heart, glinting in the sunlight. She saw the flicker of recognition on several
people’s faces at the sight of it. She didn’t care if she’d technically stolen it, she wanted to
bring a piece of him with her to say goodbye.

Taking her seat, she noted with irritation the sight of Rita Skeeter and Dolores Umbridge
joining the mourners. Rufus Scrimgeour was sat next to McGonagall, but Harry had to
wonder if the Minister was actually glad that Dumbledore was now gone. There was no one
else alive for people to compare him to. What’s more, there was no longer a blockade
keeping him away from Harry more than her successful attempts so far at evading him whilst
he stayed in the castle. She thought back to the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes as she had told
him of her meeting with the Minister, that desire to lecture her but unable to do so without
smiling. How often he had that look on his face when talking to her between offering her a
sherbet lemon and offering words of comfort in the sanctuary of his office. Things she would
never experience again.

As she half-listened to a small wizard dressed in black robes perform the funeral rites, Harry
thought back on her time with Dumbledore. How she wished it had been longer. There was so
much more he could have taught her, so much she could have learned about his life. Where
did he learn Mermish? Why did he and Grindlewald fall out? What others lessons and
warnings did he have for fighting in a war? She cast her gaze across the mourners, from the
merepeople whose heads bobbed along the surface of the lake to the centaurs watching from
the outline of the forest. So many people were here to mourn Dumbledore, most of which
cared for Harry herself. Had protected her in some manner across the years, and would
continue to do so. Her mind flashed back to Draco’s words. ‘I love you… but it’ll get me
killed’. Maybe there was something in that. Her parents. Sirius. Dumbledore. They had all
loved her, died for her. Glancing around at so many people she knew cared for her from the
Order to her fellow Slytherins, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone else. She didn’t
even want to think of the punishment Draco was suffering for failing to kill Dumbledore
himself. She imagined him writhing in agony as the Cruciartus Curse spread through him, his
mother’s pleas falling on deaf ears. Fresh tears sprung from her eyes, barely noticeable
amongst the crying students around her.

‘No one else has to die’, she thought as she watched Dumbledore’s body be transported to
one of the small islands in the middle of the lake. A white marble tomb surrounded by trees
now lay in the distance.

Wiping her eyes, Harry got up from her seat and walked away from the lake. No one tried to
stop her. She felt like she was in a daze, words swam about in her head, both Dumbledore’s
and Voldemort’s.

“Harry!”

Harry turned to find Rufus Scrimgeour limping rapidly towards her. “I’ve been hoping to
have a word… do you mind if I walk a little way with you?”

With a roll of her eyes, Harry made a noncommittal gesture with her hand and continued
walking. He would follow her regardless.

“Harry, this was a dreadful tragedy,” Scrimgeour said quietly. “I cannot tell you how appalled
I was to hear of it. Dumbledore was a great wizard. We had our disagreements, as you know,
but no one knows better than I-”

Harry growled softly, “Is there a point to this pandering?”

Scrimgeour’s lips pursed in annoyance, before he schooled his expression to one of sorrowful
understanding. “You are, of course, devastated. I know that you were very close to
Dumbledore. More so than most. I would say you were his favourite pupil-”

“Cut the bullshit, Scrimgeour. What do you want?” she snapped.

“The word is that you were with him when he left the school the night that he died.”

Harry rolled her eyes. It probably hadn’t been that hard for him to figure out Harry had not
been in bed with her fellow Slytherins that night. Though she doubted anyone in Slytherin
would have offered up that information, except perhaps Pansy Parkinson. He wasn’t the first
to ask her where Dumbledore had been, but Harry had promised she wouldn’t tell anyone and
she would keep that promise.

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you anything. I promised Dumbledore it would remain between us.”

“Such loyalty is admirable, of course,” he continued, his blatant irritation seeping through
every word. “But Dumbledore is gone, Harry.”

“And I am thoroughly aware of that,” she snapped.

She noted the moment he decided to change tactics. “The Ministry can offer you all sorts of
protection, you know, Harry. I would be delighted to place a couple of my Aurors at your
service-”

A harsh bark of laughter escaped Harry, startling the Minister. “You really think after all
you’ve heard about Voldemort, that will be enough to stop him? Spare your men, Minister,
and assign them elsewhere. They will only get under my feet.”

His lip curled into a sneer as he assessed her shrewdly. “I see you are still-”

“Cantankerous? Obnoxious? Dumbledore’s girl, through and through? All true, I’m afraid,”
she smirked before walking away with her head held high.

----

Nothing had been changed in the office, even after McGonagall had taken over as Acting
Headmistress. There was bowl of sherbet lemons on the desk and a half-drunk cup of tea
grown cold and discoloured. It looked as if he had merely stepped out for a minute, and
would be right back with another tale of Tom Riddle or theory of Voldemort’s plans. For
once, the portraits along the walls were silent, merely acknowledging her with an incline of
their heads and a sad smile – even Phineas Nigellus Black kept his usually snide comments to
himself. Harry stared at the empty chair behind the desk and traced her fingers along
Dumbledore’s wand that had been collected by the Aurors and placed back onto his desk.
Sighing, she pulled the brooch she had stolen out from her pocket, her fingers smoothing
over the intricate design.

“Potter,” McGonagall said softly as she entered the office.

“Professor, I-”

McGonagall merely smiled, “It’s alright. I have a feeling that Professor Dumbledore would
have wanted you to have something to remember him by.”

Harry’s hands closed around the brooch and smiled back at the professor. “Thank you,” she
whispered, pocketing it again and turned to leave.

“You should know, Professor Dumbledore…” Her voice trailed off as she gazed back at the
grieving teenager in front of her. “He really did love you. More than any other student.”

Harry’s eyes drifted to the latest portrait now hanging in the office. Dumbledore sat in his
chair, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was asleep at his desk. She wasn’t sure how
long it took for the magic to awaken the subject of the portrait, but she wasn’t sure she was
ready for when the Headmaster woke up.

“Thank you, Professor,” she murmured and left without another word.

----

It felt strange to climb the stairs to the Astronomy Tower again, but she knew she needed to
go there. Hermione had called it closure, though Harry wasn’t sure she’d have any until
Snape had been captured or killed. Either settled well with her. Nobody had been up there
since the night of Dumbledore’s death, when the Aurors had swept the place for any clues of
where the Death Eaters had gone.

“I knew I’d find you up here.”

Harry whirled around to find Blaise in the doorway. “Not worried I’m going to jump, are
you?” she muttered.

“No. Just wanted to check you were alright,” he smiled sadly.

“I-” Words failed her and instead she sighed heavily, “I’m not alright. I’m not alright, and I
don’t think I will be until I get revenge.”

Blaise shrugged as he came to stand beside her, leaning against the wall. “You know what
they say about revenge, right? Dig two graves.”

Harry scoffed, “I’ve had one foot in the grave my whole life. I hardly know the difference
anymore.”

The castle was unusually quiet for the last day of term. Most students were doing some last-
minute packing before the coaches arrived to take them to the station. Harry had made sure to
not leave a single thing behind, knowing she wouldn’t be coming back for Seventh Year. She
was sure in any other situation, her leaving school early would have been the cause of her
parents shrieking in panic and wondering what their daughter would be doing instead. She
couldn’t imagine them being entirely too thrilled with the suicide mission she now found
herself on. There was also the added danger that Voldemort would be looking for her, as once
her birthday came round that summer, she no longer enjoyed the protection of Privet Drive.
She would finally be free of that place. It was a bittersweet thought. She had always hoped
that leaving Privet Drive meant she would make a home with Sirius rather than spending the
next few months in whatever tent or lodging she could find.

“Do you think he would have done it? Draco?” he asked eventually.

Harry shook her head. “No. Dumbledore was right. Draco isn’t a killer. In the end it was
Snape, it was always Snape.”

Blaise put his hand over hers and squeezed it tightly. “Maybe that says something then. He
loves you more than he fears him.”

The corner of her lip twitched upwards. “Maybe it does. Voldemort will punish him either
way for failing, or maybe just because he knows it’ll hurt me.”

They stood there quietly for a moment, taking in the beauty of the landscape before she felt
his eyes settle on her again. “You’re not coming back, are you?” he asked softly.

Shaking her head, she looked out onto the grounds. “I have to finish what Dumbledore
started, Blaise. One way or another, I’ve got to end this war.”
He nodded solemnly. “I understand. Can’t say I’m not going to miss you though. School is
frightfully dull without you and Draco’s antics keeping us on our toes.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some other way to pass the time,” she chuckled. She leaned her head
onto his shoulder for a moment before pecking a kiss onto his cheek. “Keep ‘em safe for me,
yeah?”

She went to walk away but then a hand clasped around her wrist. He quickly pulled her into a
tight embrace, kissing the top of her head. “Be careful out there, ok? I’ve become awfully
fond of you, Harry Potter, and I’d hate to lose you. Besides, it takes a long time to break in
new friends.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she murmured with a fond smile.

She pulled away from him, their fingertips brushing against each other as they parted. “Oh,
and one last thing,” Blaise said as she stood in the doorway. “This arrived for you this
morning.”

He tossed her a small black box tied with a silver ribbon. Harry shrugged and gestured her
thanks before slipping out of the room. She waited until she was in an empty alcove to open
the box, already having suspicions of who it was from. Inside the box was a black velvet box
containing a single charm in the shape of a lily and made out of white Murano glass and
silver. Nestled in the lid of the box was a note on a scrap of parchment. ‘Hogsmeade, it read
in a familiar cursive script. It didn’t need signing, of course. That word only meant something
to one other person. Her eyes stung with the tears threatening to fall for what felt like the
hundredth time over the past few days. ‘He’s alive’, she thought and pressed the note close to
her chest as if it was Draco himself. He was alive. Probably frightened and hurting
somewhere, surrounded by people more likely to kill him than to help him. But he was alive,
enough that he could send her this final token. That thought filled her with hope again that
maybe Dumbledore was right all along. Love truly conquers all.
 Right Where You Left Me
Chapter Notes

You didn't think Draco would be able to stay away, did you? ;)

Time seemed to drag on as Harry’s birthday loomed ominously ahead of her. Her birthday
usually signalled the usual jaunt down Diagon Alley for school supplies, either on Draco’s
arm or trying to keep a Weasley within her sight at all times. This time though, there was no
crimson train coming to spirit her away to Hogwarts only endless hours of waiting for news
from the others. The silence was almost maddening, between the absence of letters and the
lack of nightmares, Harry’s last summer at Privet Drive was disappointingly dull. She didn’t
know what she had expected. Petunia and Vernon spent half their free time looking for a new
house, just on the off-chance the Death Eaters did come looking for them once the protection
spell was lifted. They had left the house an hour ago to see some properties with the estate
agent, leaving Dudley in charge. Not that Dudley had stuck around for long, taking the
opportunity to go see his secret boyfriend without having to sneak behind his parents’ back.
She had sent him off with a knowing smile and reminded him to be safe, and then it was just
her alone in the house.

Harry was actually grateful to have the house to herself for a change. She sat in her room,
staring at the ceiling and listening to Taylor Swift. Somehow it seemed to be the only way
she could remain calm and not want to sprint from the house, headfirst into dangers untold.
Listening to the bittersweet melodies of broken-hearted women always seemed to quieten her
mind and push all thoughts of murder and betrayal from her head. Hedwig hooted happily
occasionally, content in seeing her mistress not using the opportunity to burst into tears again
as had become the routine since returning to Little Whinging.

There was too many things running around her mind. Horcruxes. The mysterious R.A.B.
Dumbledore’s death. That final look Draco had given her before running away with the other
Death Eaters. Draco. She had thought that not seeing him every day would help matters, but
instead it made her heart ache all the more. The lily charm had been added to her bracelet
which she wore religiously, knowing she wouldn’t be able to once she was hunting
Horcruxes. She couldn’t wear anything that could be lost or destroyed in any upcoming
battles with Death Eaters or inferni or whatever else Voldemort planned on using against her.
Sometimes she didn’t know whether to admire his ingenuity or to just call him names through
their link. The latter sounded more acceptable between a heroine and her villain.

The doorbell rang loudly throughout the empty house, startling Harry out of her thoughts and
mid-song. With a huff, she turned down the music and shuffled downstairs, hoping it wasn’t
just the postman delivering another package for Dudley she’d have to hide in her room
despite the discreet packaging. Opening door, she froze instantly at the sight of Draco Malfoy
on the other side of it, standing hesitantly in her doorway.
“Draco…”

He looked just as he had done the last time she had seen him. Just as small and weakened,
with dark shadows under his eyes from a lack of sleep. Even in the forgiving lighting of an
English summer, he looked as small and defeated as he had done that night.

“Harry, I…” he croaked.

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as she pulled him across the threshold and into a
kiss. Harry didn’t care if this was a trap. If the Death Eaters were going to fill Privet Drive
whilst she was distracted by a pair of soft lips and grey eyes. She didn’t care because he was
there, the pair of them had survived their ordeals put forth by Voldemort and were now
standing in the well-maintained hallway of the Dursley’s. The door slammed behind them as
Draco managed to kick it shut, then refocussed all his energy on Harry. Her fingers wove
through his blonde locks as they kissed furiously, backing her against the floral wallpaper of
the hallway. The frames along the wall clattered upon the impact and Harry giggled against
his lips, wrapping her legs around his waist as she did so.

“Merlin, I’ve missed this,” he groaned.

“Bedroom,” she managed to blurt out as she tried to catch her breath.

He settled her back onto the ground and smirked, “Lead the way, darling.”

They raced up the stairs together and stumbled into her bedroom, resuming their feverish
kissing again until eventually falling onto the bed. Their clothes began falling away,
discarded on the floor whilst they immersed themselves in each other. Harry writhed
underneath him, deciding that breathing was completely overrated compared to having Draco
kissing her. She mewled when she felt his fingers brush against her folds. It was still strange
to have someone touch her there. Though she had to admit that she had spent many a night
since leaving Hogwarts touching herself to the memory of their first time together. Her own
touch had been explorative and hesitant, whereas his was practiced and confident. She would
bet her entire vault at Gringotts that there was a book on how to please a lady at Malfoy
Manor, and she thanked every ancestor of the Malfoy line for its existence as he slipped two
fingers inside of her. Then what felt like an eternity later, he removed his fingers, lifted one of
her legs and kissed along her calf as he began to thrust into her. The bed creaked loudly from
the force of his thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall but Harry didn’t care. Let the
whole of Privet Drive hear them. He lavished kisses along her neck and shoulders, any area
of skin he could reach, so tender compared to the increasing brutal force of his thrusts.
Eventually she felt that familiar tingling within her and clutched to him tightly as she came.

“Ah… Draco!”

“Harry… mine,” he growled as he finished inside of her. His hot breath panted against her
neck for a moment as she struggled against the weight of his body before he managed to find
the strength to pull away.

Panting, she pushed the sweat-drenched hair out of her eyes and smiled widely up at him.
“Hi…”
Braced on his forearms, he gazed down at her lovingly. “If this how we’re gonna greet each
other from now on, I much prefer it,” he smirked.

Harry then did something she hadn’t done in weeks, and genuinely laughed. Staring up at the
dimpled ceiling, she wondered not for the first time how her life had come to this.

----

After their third round, where he had made her ride him in Vernon’s armchair, they found
themselves in the kitchen. Both were half-naked, sipping cups of tea and leaning against the
countertops in comfortable silence. She had confiscated his shirt which hung loosely around
her body whilst he was bare-chested with his belt undone. It felt strangely domestic.

“How are you here?” she asked eventually.

“I apparated.”

Harry scoffed, “No, I know how you got here. I mean, how did you manage to get here
without alerting the forces of evil where you were going?”

“Oh. They think I’m visiting Blaise in London.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about him involving Blaise in this, but she supposed Blaise
could hold his own. He had never belonged to either side really, standing firmly in the grey
like a true Slytherin would. But even so, the thought of Voldemort finding out about this tryst
and punishing Blaise unsettled her.

“And he won’t find out?” she said hesitantly.

Draco swallowed thickly, “Only if you tell him.”

She knew what he meant. Her powers of blocking Voldemort from her thoughts had never
been as strong as Draco’s were. She blamed it on their connection. If he did see it, she could
always justify it as a fantasy. The wishful thinking of a heartbroken teenager. Voldemort
would probably sneer at that, and carry on about his day.

With a final swig of her tea, she put her mug down and walked over to him, cupping his face
with her hand. “He’s not my keeper,” she murmured.

Draco smiled and leaned into her touch. “Good.”

She drew his face closer to hers, pulling him in for a tender kiss. She gasped as she was
suddenly lifted and deposited on the counter, perched on the edge, with her legs spread to
allow Draco inside them. With a smirk, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him
to her, seeking his mouth again instantly. He undid his pants, pushing them down to his
ankles in one fluid movement before settling between her legs, lavishing her neck with wet
kisses.

“Draco, I swear to Merlin if you don’t-” She gasped at the feeling of him entering her
suddenly and leaned back on the counter to support herself.
“Now, now, darling, no need for threats,” he chuckled darkly against her neck.

Draco thrusted into her with abandonment, each movement threatening to send her off the
counter. Distantly, she thought back to what memories this kitchen held for her. This was
where Petunia had dyed her school uniform in a bucket, and where she had turned Marge into
a blimp. Yet here she was, fucking wizard and trust fund baby Draco Malfoy in the Dursley’s
well-appointed kitchen. She moaned loudly as he hit a particular spot inside of her, but also to
stop herself from crowing victory.

----

The hot water felt magical against her skin as they kissed lazily beneath the spray of the
shower, washing the grime and bodily fluids from each other’s bodies. There was something
very comforting about standing in the shower, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as he
ran his hands down her body. It was more intimate than anything else they had done that day,
and yet the only difference was the water falling down their bodies. A small smile crept
across her lips as Draco kissed her forehead before turning the shower off.

“Come on, darling, before you become all wrinkly,” he drawled and guided her out of the
shower.

He wrapped a towel around his waist before wrapping one around Harry and placing another
kiss to her forehead. “How do you feel?” he asked as he placed her glasses back onto her
face.

“Adored,” she whispered.

Smiling, he stroked his thumb over her scar. “Good, that’s what I was going for.”

----

Harry wasn’t sure how long Draco and her spent together, but eventually she was sat on the
stairs watching Draco tie his shoes. Between her legs she was sore, she was littered in love
bites and her hair was still a little damp from the shower. Yet she had never felt more
satisfied. She wasn’t sure how many times they had had sex that day, but she could feel how
exhausted she was and knew it had been enough. Months of separation had exploded into
several hours of passionate lovemaking, almost as if they had been making up for loss of
time. She found she couldn’t complain even if she did wince coming down the stairs.

“Well, I don’t know about you but this whole sleeping with the enemy thing is really working
for me. I’m surprised not more people are doing it,” she muttered dryly.

Draco scoffed as he adjusted his jacket’s lapels, “Yeah, sure. I bet there’s a line of people in
the Order waiting to shag Greyback.”

Harry wrinkled her nose. “I see your point.”

He leaned down to cup her face, kissing her tenderly one last time. “I’ve got to go,” he
whispered.
Nodding, she allowed him to pull away and head for the front door. “Hey, Draco?” He paused
with his hand on the handle. “Hogsmede.”

A small smile crept over his lips. “I love you too.”

With that, the door shut behind him and Harry buried her head into her hands, crying softly. If
Dudley found her crying still when he came home, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he put the
kettle on and handed her a tea, leading her away from the staircase to the sofa. By the time
Vernon and Petunia came home, Harry’s tears had dried and the hickey on Dudley’s neck had
been covered in concealer. Neither cousin made up a lie for what they'd done all day, and
Vernon and Petunia didn't bother to ask.

----

The doors of Malfoy Manor creaked open and a lone figure stumbled into the hallway, lined
with familiar pale-faced portraits. They didn’t say a word as he entered, but flickers of
recognition crossed their faces. Suddenly, he heard something smash somewhere deeper in
the manor house and a woman cursing.

“Nifty! Where are you?” Footsteps echoed across the wooden floorboards that creaked every
so often under the weight. “Draco, darling, don’t come into the drawing room. I’ve just
broken…”

Narcissa entered the hallway, scowling at a prick of blood on her finger, only to pause at the
sight before her. There, in the middle of the room stood Lucius. His blonde hair was mangled,
the skin around eyes had darkened and left an almost gaunt appearance, but it was still
Lucius.

“Lucius…!”

A tear ran down his stubbled cheek at the sight of her. “Cissy, I-”

In an instant, she was wrapping her arms around him and holding him closely to her. He dug
his fingers into the fabric of her dress, holding tightly onto the warm and familiar feeling of
her. Maybe it was the exhaustion of apparition or maybe it was the relief of finally being
home, but he felt his legs give way and he collapsed into her arms. It was only then, when his
face was buried into her shoulder, did he allow himself to release the tears he’d been holding
in for the past few months.

“Oh, my darling,” she murmured, stroking his hair tenderly.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

She held him tighter, and kissed the top of his head. “We’ll be ok, my love. We’ll get through
this, I promise you.”

Her words soothed him better than any lullaby or false bravado from the others he’d endured
whilst they dropped him off at the manor. Tomorrow, he could worry about how he was going
to get his family out of this. How he was going to protect them from Voldemort’s wrath. But
tonight, he would shower and sleep in his own bed, wrapped in his wife’s embrace and that
was worth more to him than all the gold in Gringotts.
 Birthday Blues
Chapter Notes

I've just come back from a long weekend in Stockholm and thought I'd finish up this
chapter. Here's the delights of Harry's birthday before we get to the wedding. Enjoy!

Turning seventeen had never felt like it would be a momentous occasion. Too young to
legally drink, but old enough to practice magic outside of Hogwarts. She imagined her
seventeenth birthday would involve a party with Hermione, Ron, the rest of the Weasleys and
whoever else always managed to get an invite to these things. Until last year, she had
imagined using it as her reasoning for moving in with Sirius. She had envisioned flipping off
Vernon as Sirius came to pick up her things and the pair of them driving away with the radio
playing full blast. Yet as she stood in her now empty bedroom, she felt only dread at the
thought.

The house had been stripped bare and all of the Dursley’s belongings had already been
shipped off to the new house. The last few things were piled into Vernon’s car and the
Dursleys themselves were walking aimlessly around the house, ensuring they hadn’t left
anything behind. It had taken a lot of arguing on Harry’s part to get Vernon Dursley to agree
to leave in the first place, ensuring them that they would have Aurors guarding them at all
times. Vernon didn’t believe in Voldemort any more than he did in Santa Clause, but Harry
knew that Petunia did. Even Dudley was happy enough to go with the Order, and leave
everything. She supposed the dementor attack had helped convince him more than anything.

She found Petunia standing in the middle of the living room, nervously fiddling with her
purse. “I have lived in this house for twenty years, and now in a single night I’m expected to
leave."

For a moment, she found an ounce of sympathy for her aunt and murmured, “They’ll torture
you. If they think for a second you know where I am, they’ll stop at nothing.”

She turned to him, her eyes hardened and brimming with unshed tears. “You think I don’t
know what they’re capable of? You didn’t just lose a mother that night in Godric’s Hollow,
you know? I lost a sister.”

Harry was stunned. Petunia never talked about her mother, aside from the brief mentions
she’d given Harry throughout her childhood where she’d explained what happened to them.
There was a pain behind Petunia’s eyes as she looked at Harry, and Harry wondered what else
her aunt hadn’t told her about the past. But now wasn’t the time for questions as she heard the
engine of Vernon’s car start and Petunia walked past her and out the front door.
With a sigh, Harry followed her and stood in the doorway as the Dursleys gathered around
the car. Dudley stood hesitantly in front of the car door before looking back at Harry. “Isn’t
she coming with us?”

Vernon sniffed, “No, no. She doesn’t want to. Do you, girl?”

“Absolutely not,” she muttered dryly. “Besides, I’m just a waste of space. Ain’t that right,
Vernon?”

Vernon scowled at him and opened the driver’s door. “Come along, Dudley.”

Dudley didn’t get into the car right away, instead walked back to where Harry was standing
in the doorway. With a pointed look back at his father, he turned to Harry and put out his
hand. Hesitantly, Harry accepted it and squeezed the meaty hand that was offered to her. “I
don’t think you’re a waste of space,” he murmured.

A smile tugged at Harry’s lips. “Thanks, Dudley.”

Releasing her hand, Dudley smiled shyly and returned to the car. Harry laughed a little in
disbelief as she watched the Dursleys drive away. ‘Who knew dementors could change your
personality?’ she wondered as she shut the door behind her. Regardless, she knew he would
greatly appreciate the gift she had smuggled into his bags. A box that would hide his
pornography collection from Petunia’s snooping eyes now that Harry was unable to hide
them for him. She just hoped he didn’t break the damn thing and lose them.

She returned to her bedroom, and noted the unhappy hooting of Hedwig. “Ok, girl,” she
sighed. “Time for you to get going too.”

It had been a reluctant decision on her part, but she knew that she didn’t want to lose the
snowy-white bird. She opened the cage, allowing the owl to stretch her wings as she leapt
onto the back of her chair.

“One last time, and I want you to stay put,” she murmured as she attached the small scrap of
parchment to her leg. “You got that?”

Hedwig hooted in response. Somehow, Harry took that to mean she understood and opened
the window. The owl flew to the window sill only to pause, looking up at her mistress for a
moment before taking off into the fading evening light.

----

In the safety of the Burrow, Harry felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It
would be very like Voldemort to turn up out of the blue, regardless of all the protection spells
placed around the Weasley family home. It already didn’t sit well with her that they had lost
Mad Eye, and George was now missing an ear. Her leg bounced nervously as she sat beside
the fireplace, watching the flames dance before her. She could feel Voldemort’s anger
pushing at the back of her mind, annoyance that she had once again escaped him. A part of
her wanted to feel smug about that, but Mad Eye had paid the price for her safe delivery to
The Burrow, and George had nearly died too. Maybe she hadn’t got hurt today, but the guilt
over who had been hurt was beginning to eat away at her. Just how many people had to die
before she killed Voldemort? Valuable minutes were ticking away when she could be out
there, looking for Horcruxes to weaken him. Instead, she was listening to Mrs Weasley talk
about last minute wedding preparations like this was just another normal day.

There was something else though, that was causing her to wince under the pain from her scar.
Hers and Voldemort’s wands had reacted against each other again, as if unwilling to hurt the
other. She could hear him distantly screaming at someone.

“You told me the problem would be solved by using another’s wand!”

“No, please-!”

“You lied to me, Ollivander.”

She heard the old wandmaker’s screams as he was tortured and a tear slid down her cheek,
hoping that Voldemort would give up on the old man. She wondered why it was that the
wands had repelled each other then, if Voldemort had indeed been using another wand.
‘Maybe he doesn’t really want me dead?’ she thought distantly. ‘Bellatrix did say your heart
has to be in it for the curses to work’.

“Made you a tea,” Ron said as he startled her from her thoughts and thrusted a mug of tea
into her hand. “Mum’s doing me head in with this wedding nonsense. I feel like a ruddy
house-elf.”

“Don’t let Hermione hear you say that,” she muttered dryly.

Ron settled onto the sofa opposite her and pursed his lips. “You been thinking about
Dumbledore again?”

She nodded. “You know, I know you guys said you’d come with me but…”

“Bloody hell, not this again,” he groaned. “Look, mate, this whole tortured heroine solo act
you’re trying to pull isn’t working. I’m going and so is Hermione, who lets face it is the real
brains out of us three. We’re going to stay here and let Mum boss us around making sodding
canapes and dusting napkins. We are going to attend the wedding and have one last night of
freedom. And then, and only then, will we go off together to save the world, ok?”

Harry blinked. “That was kind hot.”

Ron blushed a little and sipped at his tea. “Oh, and by the way Mum’s trying to get us to spill
on what we’re up to. She’s already tried with me and Hermione, so she’ll be onto you next.”

“Well, it’s been a while since your mum’s tried to guilt-trip me into anything. I was probably
due for another scolding,” she muttered dryly.

Ron chuckled and the pair settled into a comfortable silence, trying to keep all thoughts of
death and nagging parental figures at bay.

----
Warm hands slid up her body, causing her to stir awake. Sunlight streamed into the bedroom
and strained her eyes as she forced her eyes to open, taking in the bedroom. The black sheets
pooled around her middle, pushed down by the arm that wrapped around her waist and pulled
her flush against a hard chest.

“Happy birthday,” a voice sing-songed into her ear.

“To you,” she finished.

A dark chuckle vibrated against her. “It’s your birthday.”

A smile spread across her lips, “Ah, and there I was thinking you’d forgotten.”

In an instant, she was rolled over onto her back with him towering over her. “As if I could
possibly forget the day that brought you into this world. This is quite possibly one of my
favourite days of the year.”

“One of them?”

“Second to our anniversary,” he smirked.

With a pleased hum, she reached her hands up to tangle into his hair and pulled him down
into a tender kiss. “Such an old romantic,” she mused.

“Less of the old, thank you, darling,” he muttered dryly.

Harry pouted, “Oh, but I quite like being married to an older man. Much more virile than a
younger one.”

“Oh really?” He captured her lips into another kiss. She giggled against him at the feeling of
his hardness brushing against her leg.

“I thought it was supposed to be my birthday. This seems like a gift for you,” she moaned as
he sucked on her neck.

“You don’t want it?” he pouted.

“Of course, I do.”

With an answering smirk, he pushed her black nightgown up past her hips and slid between
her legs. His own pyjama bottoms were pushed off and thrown aside so that he had easy
access to her. He thrust into her easily, maintaining a steady pace as he continued to make
love to her. He lavished her neck and lips with wet kisses, groaning when she met his thrusts
and moaned under him.

“Does my empress like her birthday present?” he panted between thrusts.

“Yes, my emperor,” she moaned before shouting out his name as she came.
His own orgasm came shortly after, filling her with a shudder before collapsing on top of her.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” he purred against her skin.

Harry inhaled sharply as she awoke. She turned to the clock on Ron’s bedside table, squinting
to make out the time in the moonlight. Midnight. ‘Happy fucking birthday to me’, she
thought and threw her head back against the pillows.

----

Sat around the table in the Weasley’s kitchen, harry pretended for a moment that there wasn’t
a war. She opened presents, had her hair ruffled by Lupin and ate cake that Mrs Weasley had
made in the shape of a snitch. It was a rather pleasant day, but it did mean that as of midnight
the Trace would vanish and that Harry had only one more day before she would be leaving
the safety of The Burrow. Mrs Weasley seemed to be under the impression that if she kept
her, Ron and Hermione busy enough and never alone together that they wouldn’t be leaving
after the wedding. It was very hard planning a suicide mission with her lurking around every
corner with another errand she needed them to do, but Harry supposed that was what mothers
did. She couldn’t imagine her own mother being too keen on her running off to search for
Horcruxes instead of finishing school. Then again, if her mother was alive, that search would
probably have been someone else’s problem.

“The Minister’s here!”

“Oh, come on!” she groaned loudly. “Does the man not take a hint?”

“Harry!”

The Minister entered The Burrow and his gaze immediately landed on Harry who glowered
back at him. “Good evening all, I’m afraid this isn’t a social call.” He glanced at the birthday
cake sat in the middle of the table. “Many happy returns.”

“Cheers. What do you want?”

Scrimgeour ignored Harry in favour of addressing the adults in the room. “Might I speak with
Miss Potter, Miss Granger and Mr Ronald Weasley somewhere private?”

Mr Weasley cleared his throat and gestured for them to use the living room, the four of them
then left the kitchen in silence. Whilst Scrimgeour took up the sagging armchair Mr Weasley
favoured; the three teenagers squeezed themselves along the sofa.

“I have some questions for the three of you, and also because of Albus Dumbledore’s will.”

The trio looked at each other in surprise. “You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left
you anything in his will?” he prompted.

“Dumbledore was always full of surprises,” Harry murmured with a fond smile.

Scrimgeour narrowed his gaze at her. “Indeed. Would you say you three were close with
Dumbledore? I know that Harry here was his particular favourite.”
Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and shrugged. “I suppose…”

“Dumbledore was very fond of us, and we of him,” Hermione interrupted.

“And yet no other students were bequeathed anything. Most of his belongings were left to
Hogwarts. I wonder then why he left you three something.”

Folding her arms, Harry huffed, “Hang on. Why has it taken you so long to give them to us?”

“Because they wanted to examine whatever they’ve given us,” Hermione said through gritted
teeth. “Which you had no right to do.”

“I had every right. The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to
confiscate the contents of a will-”

“That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artefacts. Are you telling me you
thought Dumbledore was passing us something illegal?”

Scrimgeour assessed her coolly with his yellow eyes. “Are you planning to follow a career in
Magical Law, Miss Granger?”

“No, I’m not. I’m hoping to do some good in this world.”

Ron snorted out a laugh, whilst Harry smirked proudly, “That’s my girl. Now, were you
planning on giving us these things or not, Minister? Not to be rude, but you’re spoiling my
evening.”

Scrimgeour lip curled upwards before he managed to compose himself and removed a
document from his pocket: the last will and testament of Albus Dumbledore. Harry listened
to the Minister recite the will and handed the two objects to Hermione and Ron, trying her
best to figure out why Dumbledore had left these things to them. This was Dumbledore, after
all, and whilst these things didn’t appear to be sentimental, they were sure to be practical. The
rune on the book was odd though, and yet she felt as if she’d seen it before. Unless that was
simply another of Voldemort’s memories that had merged with her own.

“And finally, to Miss Harriet Jane Potter. I leave the Snitch she caught in her first Quidditch
match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.”

The Minister then pulled out a tiny, walnut-sized golden ball, its wings fluttering feebly as he
presented it to her. He watched warily as Harry rang her fingers across the familiar grooves of
the Snitch and then frowned when nothing happened. “Why do you think he left you this?”

“No idea,” she sighed wearily. “Maybe he thought I should go into it professionally, or it’d
make a nice paperweight.”

“This isn’t a joke, Miss Potter,” Scrimgeour growled.

She met his gaze, hardened emeralds meeting his yellow stare. “And I’m not laughing. Is this
what you’ve been wasting your time doing, Minister? Reconstructing fancy lighters from the
comfort of your office expecting to crack some final code Dumbledore left. People are dying.
Trust me, I’ve watched enough of them do it. All avoidable. And yet, you have done
nothing!”

“I will not be lectured to about the running of this country by a child!” he snapped, standing
to his full height.

“Yet this child is the one actually doing something!” she roared as she stood up also. The
lights flickered around them as Harry growled lowly. “Not for guts or glory or political
fucking monopoly. But because somebody has to!”

She paused, the weight of her own words sinking in. “Somebody has to,” she said softer as
tears pricked her eyes. “And I don’t have the luxury of hiding away in my office. Lord
Voldemort either wants to kill me or to marry me, and seeing as neither of those options
appeal to me, I will keep fighting.”

“Why you-” Scrimgeour had her by the collar of her t-shirt just as she pressed her wand
against his chest.

Hermione held Ron back as he went to arm himself, shooting Harry a pleading look. “Do you
want to give him a reason to chuck us in Azkaban?!”

The Weasleys burst into the room, flustered at the sound of raised voices. “W-what’s going
on?” Mr Weasley spluttered.

Scrimgeour released Harry as if he had been burnt, adjusting his suit quickly as he calmed
himself. “My apologies, Arthur. I seem to have got a little bit carried away.”

Harry rolled her eyes and pocketed her wand again, sliding a hand through her hair and
ruffling it slightly. She regarded the Minister with a cold stare as his cheeks tinged with
embarrassment for having been caught threatening a child.

He then turned to Harry again and said softly, “You seem to think the Ministry does not
desire what you -what Dumbledore- desired. We ought to be working together.”

“I don’t like your methods, Minister?” she snarled. “Remember?”

She then raised her right hand, displaying the scar spelling ‘I must not tell lies’ that had never
quite faded from her skin. Scrimgeour’s face hardened and he turned with a huff, leaving the
room and out of The Burrow without another word.

“What was that about?” Mrs Weasley asked nervously.

“Politics mostly,” she muttered dryly and threw the snitch into the air to catch it again.
“Anyone for cake?”
 The Eve of War
Chapter Notes

Who doesn't love a wedding? Also, where did you guys think I had Harry send Hedwig?
Stay tuned ;)

Weddings, Harry was led to believe, were a happy affair. Not that she had ever attended one
before, if anyone did invite the Dursleys to a wedding Harry would usually end up being left
behind again. It hadn’t bothered her so much growing up, but she had imagined that attending
her first wedding would be a lot less stressful than this. The Weasley brothers were milling
about putting together last-minute decorations around the white marquee that took up most of
the Weasley’s garden. She could hear Hermione trying to tame her hair in the bathroom down
the hall, and Ginny trying to convince her mother that everything was fine from downstairs.

Harry had been left to finish getting ready, already partly dreading having to spend the
evening passing herself off as a distant Weasley cousin. She would have much rather
preferred to have pretended to be one of Fleur’s relatives and not spoken all evening, but the
bride had very few relatives in attendance. Still, it was a beautiful day. Her dress would look
good regardless of whether she kept her natural features or changed them to blend in with the
many Weasleys invited. It was a knee-length midnight blue dress, sleeveless with a full skirt
that rustled as she finished getting ready in Ron’s bedroom.

The air shifted suddenly and she stilled. Turning back to the mirror, she saw him in her
reflection, a white rose in his boutonniere, and his crimson eyes boring into hers. He was
young again, handsome as always. She wondered briefly if he appeared to her this way
because she preferred it to his current form or if he himself preferred it.

“I do love a wedding, don’t you?” Voldemort purred.

Harry scowled and readjusted the pins in her hair, trying her best to ignore him. He stepped
forward till he was flush against her, bringing his mouth down to her ear. “You would make
such a lovely bride, Harry.”

“Yeah, such a shame I’m fucked in the head, eh?” she muttered dryly.

He stilled behind her. “You’re not fucked in the head, Harry.”

“You’re either a figment of my imagination or a vision sent by a homicidal maniac.” She

paused to apply her lipstick and smacked her lips. “I don’t know which is worse.”

“One could argue that you want me to be here.”

“That sounds like wishful thinking on your part, Tom. Now, fuck off. I have a wedding to
prepare for.”

He eyed the glass of Polyjuice Potion that Fred and George had brewed for her, sitting on the
dresser. “Such a pity. To hide such beauty as yours away.”

“And whose fucking fault is that, eh?” she scowled. “Seriously, Tom. Bugger off already. I
have enough to contend with today without having to explain why I’m talking to myself.”

She blinked and he had vanished from the bedroom. With a roll of her eyes, she thanked
whatever deity was listening that he had listened to her. She eyed the Polyjuice Potion with a
grimace before downing it in one go, regretting it instantly as her stomach gurgled.

----

The tap on the window made him jump, startling out of the chair he’d been reading in and
looking over at the window. He sighed in relief at the sight of the familiar white owl in the
window, and went over to open it. The bird hopped over the window sill and cooed up at him.
He undid the note attached to her leg and stroked her head with his free hand whilst he read
it. ‘Take care of her for me. H’.

Draco sighed as he crumpled the note and set it alight, burning its contents away and its ashes
scattered through the open window. He hoped that nobody had noticed Hedwig fly into the
Malfoy estate, or that if anyone did, they wouldn’t tell Voldemort. He wasn’t entirely certain
just how far the older wizard would go in order to capture Harry. Using her pet owl wasn’t
completely out of the question. She did have that annoying habit of jumping into hero-mode
when it came to her loved ones in danger. Draco had seen it in motion too many times to
count.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, eh, girl?” he murmured. Hedwig hooted happily and
leaned into his touch.

----

After her third glass of champagne, she conceded that weddings on the brink of war were still
quite enjoyable. The mothers of the bridge and groom had sobbed during the ceremony, and
Fleur’s Veela cousins had fawned over the older Weasley boys -especially Charlie. It had
gone exactly as everyone had said it would. Having never attended a wedding, Harry paid it
all little mind. Not even when Ron’s Great-Aunt Muriel made inappropriate comments
throughout the evening and Ron actively tried to avoid her. She imagined if the Potter family
had lived, then maybe there would be an embarrassing relative or two for her to hide from at
events. Then again, she probably would have spent such events holding onto Draco’s arms
like a limpet.

Butterflies flew past her and swirled around the dancing couple, bringing a smile to Harry’s
face as she watched them all. Luna and her father were doing some strange dance that looked
more at home at a stone circle than a wedding, but they were happy. Mrs Weasley’s face was
red with happiness and too much champagne from the glasses that refilled themselves. She
had caught glimpses of Ron watching Hermione, internally struggling with his feelings for
her again. It was almost comical when Viktor Krum appeared and pulled Hermione onto the
dancefloor, and Ron’s face almost turned as red as his hair.

For a moment, she wondered what it would be like if she had brought Draco as her date.
Draco would no doubt sneer at the Weasley house and she’d have to keep him from making a
comment about how they all managed to fit in it. There would be comments and quips
whispered to her about their own wedding, how grand it would be in comparison. Draco
would no doubt start planning it then and there, leaving the only thing she would be
responsible for to be her dress. As she watched Bill and Fleur dance together, she imagined
her and Draco having their own first dance, the way he would spin her around the floor as he
showed off his new wife.

She mulled over the image in her mind, wishing that maybe when this war was over, she
could make it into a reality. Then suddenly someone grabbed her by the hand and pulled her
onto the dancefloor.

“You looked like you were getting into your own headspace,” Charlie murmured as he placed
a hand on her lower back.

Harry blushed profusely. Charlie Weasley was the only member of the Weasley clan she
knew the least, and yet she had to admit he was the best looking. He was rugged like Bill
was, with a short beard and thick muscles beneath his dress robes as he held her close during
a slow song. There was a scar down one of his eyebrows and she spied a glimpse of a tattoo
poking out behind his shirt collar. She already had seen it in its full glory: a dragon curled
around his shoulder and left pectoral, after he had stepped out of the bathroom in just a towel
the other morning.

“Yeah, I’ve kinda had a lot going on lately,” she murmured.

“So, I’ve heard. Also been hearing you guys are quitting school and Mum’s freaking out
you’re going on a suicide mission.”

Harry stilled. “Oh? You hear an awful lot. You sure you don’t work for the Daily Prophet?”

“Relax. I’m not Mum. I won’t rat you out or try to convince you not to go.”

“You won’t?”

He twirled her around and then pulled her back against him, smirking down at her. “No,
something tells me, Miss Potter, that there are very few people in this world that you actually
listen to.”

Harry answered his smirk with one of her own. “Oh, I listen to quite a few. I’m just not very
good at following orders.”

Charlie laughed heartily and spun her around again. For a moment, as she danced with him
she forgot about the war and what she was doing once the wedding was over. For just a
moment, she was a seventeen-year-old girl dancing with her best friend’s hot brother, and it
felt good.
----

The Ministry would fall tonight. The thought eased Voldemort’s mind as he dressed himself
for the upcoming battle. His Death Eaters would make their final move, taking down the
Minister and those loyal to him in one night and then, England would be his. Then he could
turn his attention back to Harry. Not that his thoughts really ever drifted far from her for long
these days. He had such plans for when she was finally captured and brought to him, but he
had to be patient. Harry had already eluded him once this month.

She had looked so beautiful, terrified in the sidecar of that enchanted motorbike. She had
sensed him early and her hair had billowed around her as their wands had connected again. It
was annoying that she had managed to deflect his spell. Not that he was really trying to kill
her, more so the half-giant beside her. He would have swooped in and carried her to safety as
Hagrid and the bike fell from the sky. How she would have beat at his chest and screamed
bloody murder into his ears as he held her tightly in his arms, exactly where she belonged.

He wondered how she would react upon hearing the news. The Ministry would fall and
Scrimgeour would die. He knew she wasn’t fond of the current Minister, could feel it through
their connection. He sensed her ire whenever the Minister was around. What a delightful gift
his death would be for her. He imagined the quirk of her lips when she realised he had spared
her anymore dealings with the former Auror. His girl liked to play the role of bleeding heart,
but he knew the darkness that lurked in her heart that would happily do away with anyone
who annoyed her for too long. Yet she was still hesitant to kill him. She would kill Snape,
Bellatrix or Umbridge without hesitation, but her anger wavered when she thought about
him.

It made his lips quirk into a sinister smirk as he left to greet his followers. ‘I’m coming for
you, Harry’.

----

Dumbledore had always been a bit of an enigma to Harry. There were things she had never
asked the headmaster about his life, the things that weren’t highlighted at the back of his
Chocolate Frog. Perhaps, it wasn’t that important to Dumbledore if she knew everything
about him. She didn’t need to know everything, of course, but it would have been nice to
know he had lived in Godric’s Hollow too. That his sister was an alleged squib that was
hidden from the world. Yet somehow, Rita Skeeter had found out about all of Dumbledore’s
past and laid it out for the entire Wizarding World to read. The very idea of her tarnishing
Dumbledore’s reputation made Harry’s blood boil, and a part of her wished they hadn’t
released her to spread her filth after Fifth Year.

She listened to Ron’s Great-Aunt Muriel talk about Dumbledore’s past as if it was
entertaining to rifle through the secrets of his life. But Muriel hadn’t seen Dumbledore when
he had drunk the potion in the cave. She hadn’t seen his tears and listened to him begging an
unknown assailant to spare them. Harry thought back to that night in front of the Mirror of
Erised when the headmaster had claimed he saw himself with a pair of socks, and knew that
wasn’t what he had seen. He had seen the sister that had died and the brother who had blamed
him for it. He had seen the loving family he had been robbed of by circumstances, just like
Harry had. For a moment, she considered how alike she and the headmaster had become
“Honestly, my girl, are you sure you knew him at all?”

Those words stung though, and Harry almost wished that Dumbledore was there to put his
hand over her shoulder and tell her it wasn’t true. But then, she had never imagined that
Albus Dumbledore, the great and wonderful headmaster of Hogwarts would have been the
former lover of Gellert Grindelwald. There was a story there. A story that she had barely
scratched the surface of that night in the Astronomy Tower. A story she wished she had been
able to get Dumbledore to reveal more of once this war was over, over lemon sherbets and
cups of tea on a quiet afternoon in his office. She wanted to learn it all, to earn his confidence
and guard his secrets. She swirled around the contents of a champagne glass she’d grabbed
and smiled to herself as she realised that she already had.

Suddenly, something large and silver bolted into the tent, hovering in the middle of the dance
floor and causing everyone to fall silent. Then with the deep, familiar voice of Kingsley
Shacklebolt, it spoke: “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

And so it was that Harry found herself standing on the pavement of a busy Tottenham Court
Road, holding hands with Ron and Hermione. The wedding and all of its guests, a distant
memory in favour of making their next move. She breathed a sigh of relief as she realised no
one had followed them, that they had merely come to a random place that Hermione had
thought of. For the moment, they were safe. ‘Your move, Tom’.
 The Boy With The Locket

There were three things Harry had learned since becoming a fugitive. First, that Voldemort
had put a curse on his name, alerting Death Eaters to your presence if you said it. Second,
that Death Eaters didn’t think she’d hide out in her godfather’s house. And third, that there
was less opportunity to walk away or hide when it became apparent you were the third wheel
in a budding romance. Normally, she wouldn’t mind it so much but the love of her life was
currently behind enemy lines and she wasn’t feeling particularly romantic. Perhaps that was
why she found herself wandering the house she’d inherited, making mental notes of what she
would be getting rid of. It was on this wandering that she discovered Sirius’ bedroom.

On the few times she had slept in the house during Fifth Year, she had never once entered her
godfather’s bedroom. Half the time, she was convinced he didn’t sleep. She opened one of
the two doors on the topmost landing before the attic, and her breathing hitched as she beheld
it. The room was just as large and spacious as all the other rooms in Grimmauld Place, but
with a seemingly thicker coating of dust than the rest of the house. A spider’s web stretched
between the chandelier and the top of the wardrobe, the large bed was unmade as if a
teenaged Sirius had merely stepped out and would be found loitering in the kitchen. The
walls were a collage of Gryffindor banners, faded scarlet and gold, pictures of motorcycles
and several bikini-clad models that stayed stationary against the silvery-grey wallpaper Sirius
had clearly tried to hide. Only one wizarding photograph was amongst the collage, a single
picture of four Hogwarts students laughing at the camera together.

It wasn’t hard to recognise James Potter with his shaggy mess of black hair that Harry had
inherited and the glasses that glinted sunshine back against the camera. Sirius was as
ridiculously handsome as Harry had imagined he had been, a vision of happiness and youth
that Harry had never got to see. Remus was still as shabby-looking as he did nowadays, but
there was a genuine warmth to his smile as if he had found his people in these three boys.
Then there was Pettigrew, flushed with pleasure at being included and beaming up at Sirius
who radiated a cool energy. Harry tried to take it from the wall, planning to have it framed
once the war was over, only to find it wouldn’t budge. Sirius had taken no chances in
ensuring his parents would never be able to decorate the room again.

Just like the rest of the house, someone had searched through the drawers in search of items
of value. She attempted to tidy the fallen books and papers that had been shaken out, until she
found herself reading a letter in an unfamiliar hand. With shaking hands, she managed to
slump down onto the bed to read the letter again and again. She hadn’t recognised her own
mother’s handwriting, she thought grimly. The words however, filled in more blanks of
Harry’s childhood and she tried to imagine that life she had lived for the first year of her life.
There had been a cat, that probably ran off when Voldemort appeared. Strange, considering
Sirius’ Animagus, but then he had got along with Crookshanks. Sirius had bought her first
broom, a gesture he had repeated years later when he came back into Harry’s life. The
Firebolt which she treasured was still at Hogwarts in the broom shed. She hoped that Blaise
had managed to hide it from any Death Eaters that came looking for her, or for any clues she
had left. Too many of her treasures were scattered across the country as it was. Her mind
flickered to Hedwig, and she hoped that the owl had made the journey to Malfoy Manor
safely. She knew Draco would keep her safe, and hidden in his bedroom.

Yet in Sirius’ bedroom, she found the scattered remains of a troubled teen and she could
imagine how when Sirius re-read the letter’s words in the wake of her parents’ death,
surrounded by all this could make him snap. She imagined him glaring at the photograph on
the wall, unable to rip it off, and the combination of grief and guilt eating away at him. No
wonder he had hunted Wormtail down.

She glanced around the room, noted the silvery-grey wallpaper fighting to poke through the
posters and banners. She thought back on the tapestry room with Sirius’ face destroyed and
the shrill insults of his mother’s portrait. How Kreacher resented his former master, who
looked at him with resentment. Sirius had ran away from this house at sixteen, but Harry
wondered if he had still taken a part of it with him to her grandparents’ house, just as she had
done with Privet Drive.

Sirius had never said what had happened, what had finally made him leave the house, but
Harry could guess. At first, she’d thought the constant stream of abuse against all of Sirius’
friends had finally made him snap. Then again, no. Harry had heard her fair share of
comments against her friends from the Dursleys -particularly Vernon- but that wasn’t what
had made her want to leave. It was the days before Hogwarts, when the door to the cupboard
under the stairs would slam shut and the lock pulled across as Harry tried to muffle her sobs.

Yet, there was something else in this house. If Harry had left when she turned seventeen to
live with Sirius, she doubted the Dursleys would have kept her room just as it was. It would
become Dudley’s second bedroom again, or a spare bedroom for the rare occasions they had
someone stay over. But Walburga Black had kept Sirius’ bedroom as it was. Maybe she
couldn’t remove the posters Sirius had charmed, or maybe she couldn’t bear to have them
removed. Or maybe, Harry was just giving the woman too much credit.

With a sigh, she exited the room and her eyes glanced up to the door across the landing. A
sign had been stuck to the door, and in neatly lettered writing read: ‘Do Not Enter Without
The Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black’. Harry froze.

“Hermione, I’ve found him. I’ve found R.A.B!”

----

Harry had never considered that she would ever sympathise with Kreacher, but as she
listened to the house-elf explain what had happened to Regulus Black and the locket, her
heart clenched. She wondered what it must have been like for Regulus, to grow up living and
breathing the Pureblood line only then to realise what Voldemort really was. To disown his
cousin and brother, because they chose to ignore the beliefs of their family and found love
elsewhere. It must have been hard, she thought, to pass Sirius in the hallways every day at
Hogwarts and pretend they didn’t care about the other. Judging from the anguish on
Narcissa’s face, she imagined that it was incredibly painful for any person to go through. Yet
the House of Black had endured, until that night Voldemort asked for a house-elf. She
wondered if it had just been what had happened to Kreacher that had turned Regulus, or if he
had witnessed something else. Voldemort wasn’t exactly shy about his darker tendencies, as
Harry herself had seen first-hand. Who had he killed? Who had he tortured and laughed at
when they pleaded for mercy?

Then there was Kreacher himself, who had kept this secret hidden for so long. Had witnessed
his young master’s death and been forced to flee due to an order. Who had held onto the
locket for years, unable to completely follow his orders to destroy it. Who Voldemort had
nearly killed just to hide away his soul, never taking into account a house-elf’s magic
surpassing a wizard’s. She glanced at the pile of dirty blankets he slept in, in a kitchen
cupboard and wondered distantly if he hadn’t had the heart to change them since Walburga
had died. His loyalty to the House of Black was really quite remarkable, but sadly that hadn’t
applied to Sirius. She tried not to dwell on that particular betrayal and instead made plans.

“Kreacher,” Harry said coolly. “Bring me Mundungus Fletcher.”

Kreacher eyed Harry carefully before Harry continued: “We want to finish the work Master
Regulus started. For that, we need to find that locket.”

“Find Mundungus Fletcher?” he croaked.

“And bring him here. Do you think you can do that for us?” Kreacher nodded and got his
feet. “Oh, and in return, you can have this.”

She pulled out the fake locket from her pocket and pressed it into the house-elf’s calloused
hand. “It was Regulus’ and I want you to have it for serving them all so faithfully,” she said
softly.
Kreacher looked at up at Harry with wide-eyed, overcome with emotion from being
presented with a Black family heirloom. When he was finally composed, he placed the locket
in his cupboard amongst his dirty blankets. He then turned to them and made a low bow to
them all, before disapparating away.

----

The Ministry had fallen. Scrimgeour was dead. Everything had gone exactly to plan, apart
from his people finding out where Harry had gone. He knew she wouldn’t dare go back to
Hogwarts, not without Dumbledore to protect her. Naturally, a few of his Death Eaters had
staked out the home of her godfather but found nobody coming or going, and others had
checked the Hogwarts Express on its way to the school. There had been no sight of her
though. A select few of people associated with the Order had been questioned, but none had
any idea where Harry had vanished to.

In a way, it was almost invigorating to think she was making him chase her across the
country. He had such plans for when he caught her though. A seamstress that Narcissa used
was already making a couple of gowns worthy of an empress, to be correctly fitted once
Harry was found. It was only natural that Harry should have the best of everything. He would
give her everything neither of them had as children: fine clothes, jewellery, a beautiful home,
and power over those who had wrong them. He would enjoy presenting them all to her, once
she had calmed down and realised they were meant to be together. Then they could be happy,
ruling over the Wizarding World and ensuring that wizard-kind was never made to hide in the
shadows again.
If only she would oblige him by causing havoc as she usually did, so he could pinpoint her
whereabouts. There were only so many places that Harry frequently visited and his people
had tried them all. Even Malfoy Manor was now the centre of operations for his takeover of
the Wizarding World, though he doubted his hosts were all too happy about that. Perhaps he
was being a little petty by using Lucius’ wand and taking over his house, but Harry was
enamoured with his son. He supposed he saw the appeal in his pale blonde hair and eloquent
speech, but the boy looked terrified all the time. How was someone that was so easily scared
supposed to love and protect Harry?

It was all easily remedied, of course. Harry would come to him willingly or by force, either
way she would be his.

----

The leaves and twigs scratched her face as she landed on the cold forest floor, still reeling
from their encounter with Umbridge. “Fucking Umbridge,” she grumbled as she pulled
herself upright.
The locket hissed at her from where it had fallen out of her grasp, but fell silent once Harry
grabbed it and turned her attention onto Ron groaning. Ron’s upper arm and shoulder had a
large chunk missing, as if something had simply scooped it out of him.

“Ron got splinched!” Hermione spluttered. “Quickly, there’s a small bottle labelled Essence
of Dittany-”

Harry followed her orders quickly, summoning the vial out of Hermione’s bag and handing it
over to her. She half-listened to Hermione’s explanation of what had happened as the other
girl tried to stop her tears. The tincture dripped onto Ron’s flesh, sizzling as it pieced his skin
back together as he hissed in pain. She ran a hand through Ron’s hair, before realising Harry
was watching her with a knowing look.

“Not a word,” she muttered and got to her feet. With bloodied hands raised, Hermione began
making wards around the clearing they were in. “You can get going on the tent.”

“Tent? Where am I going to find a-?” Harry paused and looked back at Hermione’s bag. “It’s
like being mates with Mary Poppins, I swear.”

----

Frustration wove through Harry like a snake curling through her insides. The locket lay on
the table in front of her, glinting in the torchlight mockingly back at her. No matter what spell
they had thrown at it, it remained untouched. The wind blew around the tent, and Harry
secretly wished that they had been able to stay at Grimmauld Place where she had grown
used to the groanings of the floorboards and the occasional insults from Walburga’s portrait.
Even Kreacher had become a lot more diligent in his duties since Harry had gifted him the
fake locket, making the kitchen immaculate and serving them food without orders. It was
easy to see how he had earned the Black family’s love and respect over the years.

At least the wards Hermione had put up seemed to be doing their job. Not even a fox had
come sniffing around the flaps of the tent. Hermione had thought of everything, it seemed,
from spare clothes to books and medicines. It did make Harry wonder how long she would
last on this quest without Hermione around, or Ron. Although, Ron was starting to grate on
her nerves as he listened diligently to the Muggle radio, holding out hope that he would never
hear his family members’ names listed among the dead or arrested. Harry found it perfectly
morbid, and a constant reminder of how little time she had before Voldemort had fully
enacted his plans.

The tent rustled slightly but Harry felt the change in the air, opening her eyes to find
Voldemort sat on Hermione’s cot. It was a version of him that she had seen before, the one
from his uncle’s memory, leaning back against the cot, assessing it before finally landing his
gaze onto her.

“Charming place. Never thought of you as someone who enjoyed the outdoors,” he drawled.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Tom.”

“Now, that’s not true. I know you better than anyone,” he smiled fondly. “That’s why I know
how guilty you feel every time that boy puts on the radio and you hear the names. I know you
wish that it had been you in the Tower that night, not Dumbledore. I know that you want this
war to be over so you can grieve in peace.”

Harry swallowed thickly, “You forget you’re the reason we’re at war?”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared deeply into her eyes. “You could end
this war right now, sweet girl. All you have to do is tell me where you are.”

Harry shook her head lightly. “I am exactly where I need to be, a thousand miles away from
you,” she replied coldly.

“I will find you, Harry. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Come and get me then.”

He scowled before vanishing like a wisp of smoke just as the tent flaps opened again and
Hermione entered the tent. “Your turn to lookout,” she yawned.

Harry sighed in relief and happily pulled on her hoodie, venturing out into the darkness
surrounding the tent to keep watch for the next two hours.
 All Falls Down
Chapter Notes

The effects of the Locket are starting to get to the trio.

Never-ending names came through the static of Ron’s radio and the constant reminder of
death was grating against Harry’s nerves. Hermione had said it gave Ron comfort, not
hearing his family’s names on the list. Harry though, found nothing but guilt and frustration
every time the crackle of static came on when they set up camp. They never stayed in the
same place for more than two nights before Hermione apparated them somewhere else.
Random spots around the country, remote and surrounded by woodland, had become their
new home with the wards and the tent they slept in. Summer had long since gone and now
the chill of autumn clung to them wherever they went. They took it in turns to search for food
in the local towns and villages, just as they did standing watch outside the tent, and wearing
the locket.

Harry cursed the locket, her fingers stroking over the engraved snake on the front of it as she
looked at it bitterly. Their knowledge on Horcruxes was limited naturally, but Harry knew
that its presence was making her think of Voldemort all the more. Her scar prickled with pain
more than usual, his moods changing as often as the wind did against the flaps of the tent. It
happened more when it was turn to wear the locket, when she could feel it humming against
her chest with his soul inside of it.

“What? What did you see?” Ron demanded whenever he noticed her wince.

“A face,” Harry muttered. “The thief who stole from Gregorovitch.”

Ron had never been good at concealing his feelings, failing to hide is disappointment when
he turned away from her. She knew what he wanted to hear, of course. Visions of his family
or word of the Order of the Pheonix but nothing ever came. Harry wasn’t able to probe into
Voldemort’s mind as he could to her, she could only see what he saw or was thinking. Lately,
all he was focussed on was the face of a young man, a thief in the night leaping out the
window of Gregorovitch’s workshop. The blonde-haired boy plagued Harry’s thoughts too as
she tried to figure out who he was. Over and over again, he saw the memory of Gregorovitch
of the curly blonde hair, soaked from the rain, and the mismatched eyes. Surely someone with
such a noticeable trait would be easy to find, but it seemed neither Harry nor Voldemort could
figure it out.

It was just as perplexing as the Horcruxes themselves and how seemingly indestructible the
one around her neck was proving to be. It was hard enough getting the basilisk’s fang to stab
the diary back in Second Year. The act had nearly cost Harry her life, and her arm tensed as
she remembered the sensation of being stabbed with the venom as she’d shoved the sword
through the monster’s open mouth. It had always puzzled her why the sword had appeared to
her, not being a Gryffindor and everything. Dumbledore had merely had a knowing smile and
she had been too embroiled in the Malfoys to ask why that was. She assumed it had
something to do with showing bravery, in defence of the school.

If Scrimgeour had given her the sword, the locket could have been dealt with by now and the
tension in the air between the trio might have been less palpable. Harry thought back on
every aspect of Voldemort’s life, the places that meant something to him, and failed to come
up with anything. Hermione dismissed the idea of him hiding something at Hogwarts as
Dumbledore would have found it, but Harry knew Voldemort. The school meant something to
Voldemort, just as it did to Harry. There was something there, more than a sleeping basilisk in
the plumbing to draw a young Tom Riddle back there.

There were other places, of course, to consider. Borgin and Burges. The orphanage he’d
grown up in. His father’s house. Even Albania, where he’d met Professor Quirrell. All were
possible locations for his Horcruxes, but still didn’t feel right in Harry’s mind. Voldemort had
left a piece of his soul in the care of Lucius Malfoy for eleven years, it was possible there
were other caretakers that were unaware of what they were holding onto for him. She just
hoped they were just as careless with his things as Lucius was.

----

Harry had been found. For a brief, shining moment, she had been within his grasp only for
her slip away from him. He couldn’t understand why she had shown up at the Ministry of all
places. She had used Polyjuice Potion, according to the report, to infiltrate the Ministry and
attack Dolores Umbridge. Perhaps she had wanted to see for herself how he had changed
things, or if she was angry at Umbridge’s appointment. He had no issue with Umbridge
personally, but he knew that once Harry was brought home, he would have to dismiss her. He
couldn’t have Ministry staff upsetting his future bride, after all.

The puzzle of Harry’s appearance lingered on his mind, even when he arrived at Malfoy
Manor later that day.

“Lucius, you know her mind best. Why would she risk it?”

Lucius wet his lips. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because you hired Umbridge to conduct the
interrogations against Muggleborns in the Ministry. She loathes Umbridge for what she did to
her in Fifth Year. Harry doesn’t forgive easily.”

“Is that all?”

“Harry hasn’t been back to the Ministry since that night Sirius died, my lord. She wouldn’t go
there for anything not important to her.” He paused. “Perhaps, she is merely keeping you on
your toes, my lord. You haven’t heard from her since she first fled Little Whinging.”

Voldemort hummed, musing over the thought. It was a strange and dangerous risk for her to
take. There was nothing of significance there or indeed anyone she was particularly close to
that could slip her information. The Weasley family were being watched along with the
Tonks family just in case she attempted to contact them. Even her friends at Hogwarts were
watched more closely than other students, but they seemed more interested in causing
problems for Snape than anything else.

“And those little friends of hers? Are they behaving themselves?”

“Severus is dealing with them. It is only natural that they would attempt to rebel in her
absence. They were awfully fond of her.”

Voldemort glanced back at Lucius. “As were you, I recall,” he replied coolly.

Lucius merely blinked. “She is… a fascinating young woman, my lord.”

“True. Her followers admire her chaotic nature and kind heart. It will be good to see her in a
role of authority, her allegiance to me will gain me more favour with the masses.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lucius replied uneasily.

It was something, Lucius reminded himself, to hear that Harry was alive. It was something to
tell Draco who barely came out of his room when he knew that the other Death Eaters were
around. He hoped though, that she wouldn’t do anything foolish and appear somewhere like
that again. She had very nearly been caught, and Death Eaters had already stormed
Grimmauld Place to Narcissa’s dismay. There was evidence of her being there, but nothing to
say she had returned. Kreacher naturally, was unavailable for questioning and wouldn’t
answer the summons of anyone but his fugitive mistress.

It was, Lucius knew, for the best. Voldemort had been enraged when he had learned she had
evaded his people, but then as usual he had mused over how clever she was to do so. The
Death Eaters were finding it increasingly harder to please their lord over finding Harry, each
attempt both frustrating and amusing Voldemort. There was however, only so long that she
could keep herself out of harm’s way before they found her again. This time though, there
would be no mistakes and Harry wouldn’t escape so easily.

----

The lake they were camped along made Harry think of the Black Lake, without the
possibilities of mermaids or grindylows at the bottom. She remembered how her nostrils had
stung as she’d come up for air, carrying both Draco and Gabriella to the surface and the
sound of cheering around her. She remembered watching Dumbledore’s tomb being
assembled along its shore and longing to beat her fists against the white marble in an ill-fated
hope of waking him from death. Shaking her head, she tried to clear those thoughts from her
mind. Thinking of Dumbledore wouldn’t help anything. It only brought tears and nightmares.

“We used to come camping here when I was little,” Hermione said as she sat beside Harry. “I
used to hate it. The cold. The rain. Dad could never get the tent up on the first try. It’s strange
the things you miss.”

Harry glanced at her, “Yeah. I get you.”

“Is there anything you miss from home?”

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she replied: “I suppose I miss Petunia’s cooking.”

“I am not that bad!” Hermione protested, swatting her arm lightly.

Harry grinned, “Mate, I’m just surprised we haven’t got salmonella yet.”

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh as the pair began lightly shoving at each other, before they
were both in a fit of giggles. The laughter died down and Hermione looked out onto the lake.
Harry stared at her fondly and glanced back to where Ron was trying to light a fire by the
tent.

“I am…” She paused. “I am happy you’re here. Both of you. Merlin knows I’d have died a
long time ago if it wasn’t for you two.”

Hermione smiled sadly and kissed her forehead before heading back to the tent. As she
watched Hermione walk away, Harry felt Voldemort appear beside her and her smile faded.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than spy on me?” she snarked.

“There is nothing I enjoy more than being near you, sweet girl.”

Harry shuddered. “Spare me.”

“I don’t enjoy watching you suffer. Cold and hungry. I can feel you shiver in your sleep, your
stomach gurgle. Wouldn’t it be so much better to sleep in a decent bed for once?”

“Not if that bed is yours, Tom,” she muttered dryly. “Is that how it’s going to be now? You
show up and try and bribe me into handing myself in? What do you thinks gonna happen?
That I’m gonna apparate straight into the Ministry and let you do me against the fountain?”

A low growl escaped him and she turned to meet his crimson gaze. “You know, you’re really
starting to bug me.”

“I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” she sniffed.

“Just keep pushing it, Harry, and someday I will boil over,” he hissed.

“You’ve already killed half the people I love, Tom. That didn’t require a lot of effort or
aggravation on my part now, did it?”

She heard Ron call her name for dinner and Voldemort vanished in the blink of an eye as she
walked back to the tent.

----

Images of Voldemort running his hands along her body flashed through her mind and curdled
her stomach. Harry stumbled out of the tent and threw up just out of ear shot, hunched over
on the uneven ground as she emptied her stomach of her breakfast. She shuddered at the
acidic taste left in her mouth and wiped away the remains with the back of her hand.
“You alright?” Ron grunted.
Harry froze, having forgotten in her haste that Ron was on watch. “Yeah…just a nightmare,”
she grumbled.

She glanced up at him, noting the curious tilt of his head as if expecting an expansion. “Tom
was touching me again,” she said without meeting his gaze.

Ron nodded, no longer interested and returned to one of Hermione’s many books they had
taken to reading to fill the long hours. Harry felt a hum against her chest and saw the locket
lying against her chest. With a scowl, she realised she had fallen asleep with it still on,
against Hermione’s advice.

“Scourgify,” she muttered and aimed her wand at the vomit. Within an instant, it was gone
and Hermione was none the wiser when she returned to the tent and handed the locket over,
her scar burning at the rejection.

---

Harry wasn’t sure what it was exactly that finally made Ron snap. Maybe it was the cold
weather. Maybe it was the lack of food for his stomach so used to the home-cooked meals of
the Burrow and Hogwarts. Or maybe it was just the way that he found Harry and Hermione
deep in conversation, looking over books as they tried to decipher the clues Dumbledore had
left them.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he muttered bitterly.

Harry pushed her glasses away to run a hand along her face tiredly. “Something the matter,
mate?”

“The matter? Why would something be the matter? It’s not like we’re freezing cold in the
middle of fucking nowhere. Oh wait, no we are.”

“I thought you knew what you’d signed up for,” Harry huffed. “What did you think was
going to happen? Did you think we’d be in five-star hotels every night? Finding a Horcrux
every day? I wish it would be that easy, but I can’t read his mind, ok? I can’t just sniff them
out like a bloodhound. I’m sorry you thought it’d be different-”

“No, I thought you knew what you were doing,” he snapped.

“I’m doing what Dumbledore told me to do! I have to find them, Ron. I can’t kill him without
them.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “And what about everyone else at home whilst we’re out here doing fuck
all? It’s alright for you, isn’t it? If we lose, you’ll become his kept woman. Living la vida loca
whilst everyone else suffers.”

“Stop it, both of you!” Hermione cried, but it fell on deaf ears.

“You think I don’t know how this feels-?”

“No, you don’t know how this feels. How could you know? You haven’t got a family-!”
Harry stilled, feeling her blood boiling beneath her flesh. There it was. A glimpse into what
Ron had maybe always felt, a deep-rooted jealousy for his best friend who had nothing and
everything at the same time. It had flared on occasion. Fourth Year sprung to mind. And it
hurt so much coming from Ron. Ron, the first friend she made at Hogwarts. Ron, who stayed
behind in First Year so Harry wouldn’t be alone for Christmas. Ron, who welcomed her into
his home and shared his family with her.

The sound of impact echoed throughout the camp, bouncing off the silencer wards. Harry’s
palm stung from where she had slapped him, her handprint now pronounced proudly against
his freckled skin.

“Fuck you,” she snarled.

Ron lunged for her then but Harry evaded him, not letting him use his strength against her.
She knew how to hold her own against a bigger opponent. Dudley had taught her that much.
She managed to get him into a chokehold whilst Hermione cried for them to stop, until she
decided she was too tired for this and shoved him away.

“Go on then. Go!”

“Fine,” Ron spat and threw the locket on the ground.

Harry picked up the locket and quickly threw it over her head, ignoring Ron as she stormed
into the tent to collect his bag. She listened to Hermione plead with him, trying to calm him
down but to no avail. Then Ron was standing on the edge of their wards, bag slung over his
shoulder and Harry couldn’t find it in her to tell him to stay.

“And you?” Ron said, turning to Hermione. “You coming or what?”

Hermione looked between them, face full of anguish. “I-yes, I’m staying. Ron, please, we
said we’d help-!”

“Of course, you chose her.”

She turned away from Ron, listening to him disapparate and Hermione shouting his name.
Hermione came to stand beside Harry and touched her arm tentatively, her eyes full of tears.
“Harry,” Hermione spluttered. “He-he didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, he did,” Harry muttered bitterly and shrugged her off.

Heading back to the tent, she felt the locket swaying against her breasts as she walked. Out of
the corner of her ear, she saw Voldemort leaning against a tree in front of her, smirking at the
sight that had just unfolded.

“Not now, Tom,” she hissed as tears pricked her eyes.

----

They barely spoke in the aftermath of Ron’s departure. They muttered to each other when it
was the next shift for the watch or to wear the locket, but neither girl seemed to want to make
the first move. It was strange without Ron there between them, snoring and grumbling about
how little food they had. His words still haunted Harry though, as she watched the Snitch
hover over her head, its wings flapping like a hummingbird above her. He was right, in a way.
She didn’t have a family left to worry about, but he could never comprehend what she had
gone through. She had watched Sirius and Dumbledore die, helpless to stop it, and forced to
carry on when all she wanted to do was hunt down their killers. He could never understand
what she felt each time the radio named someone else who had died in Voldemort’s new
world order.

Yet when she saw the tears in Hermione’s eyes, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.
Hermione didn’t deserve any of that.

“I’m sorry,” she said eventually. Hermione looked back at her in shock and Harry huffed as
she continued: “I’m sorry I told Ron to go home. I know you’re worried about him.”

“It’s not just that,” Hermione sighed as she cradled the locket in her hand. “I didn’t like what
this was doing to him. He wasn’t himself.”

“It’s got a Dark Lord’s soul inside. It’d be off-brand if it gave you a fuzzy feeling,” Harry
murmured.

“I suppose.” Hermione paused. “I know you’re scared. About him finding you, and what he
wants from you. You look sad when you think we can’t see you, but we do. Are you ok? And
don’t say you are because I know what that means.”

Harry stilled, her gaze settling onto the

“No. I’m-I’m not ok…” Her voice broke as the tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed
thickly. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Hermione. It sounds stupid. This was
my idea, running off and finding Horcruxes but… Merlin, I wish Dumbledore had picked
someone else. That anyone but me had to do this.”

She broke down into sobs, her glasses fogging up from the heat of her tears. “I am so angry.
At Tom. At Dumbledore. For putting me in the middle of this war, making me the Chosen
One. Because Ron was right, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. And every day when I
hear more people dying because of me. Because I’m not working fast enough, it kills me.”

“Harry…”

“I wish you had let the Death Eaters take me. I wish you had left me for him. I can feel this
body dying all around me,” she cried.

“Harry, no-! We would never let him take you. Never.”

Harry shook her head. “You should. Maybe if he had me, he would-!”

Hermione’s fingers dug into Harry’s arms as she held her tight. “No! He wouldn’t. He
wouldn’t stop hurting others just because you gave yourself up. You know he wouldn’t.”
“I know,” she admitted mournfully. “But sometimes I think I could protect you better if I did.
Just let him take what he wants from me till he tires of me.”

“You are the Girl Who Lived. You are worth more to him than anyone else in this world…
dead or alive.”

Harry leaned her forehead against Hermione’s shoulder, exhausted. “And how many have to
suffer because of that?”

Hermione didn’t know what to say, instead she brought Harry closer and soothed her gently
until her tears dried. “Hermione? I’ve been thinking. I-I want to go to Godric’s Hollow.”

Harry pulled away to see Hermione’s reaction, but the other girl stared blankly at her. “I
know. I’ve been thinking about that too.”

“You have?”

“It’s dangerous though, Harry,” she sighed. “It’s the only place that means something to you.
He’ll expect you to go there.”

“Yeah, and it meant something to Dumbledore too. I was born there. I nearly died there.” She
paused, licking her lips. “How am I supposed to follow the orders of a man who barely
understood? Whose early life was a complete mystery to everyone?”

“You want to ask Bathilda Bagshot if any of Rita Skeeter’s book is real,” Hermione
murmured.

“Yes. I want to know the man I loved. I am Dumbledore’s girl, Hermione, through and
through. I want to know what exactly that means.”

Hermione sighed before she eventually raised her eyes to meet hers. “Alright then…but if we
get attacked by dementors or something, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough,” Harry grinned.

 The Place Where It All Began
Chapter Notes

The Godric's Hollow chapter and a Wuthering Heights reference inside.

There had never been a place besides Hogwarts that Harry had considered to be her home,
but as she walked through the empty streets of Godric’s Hollow, she felt like this was a close
to second. Maybe it was because for one year, it had been her home but she felt something in
every step she took. She looked around the quaint little village, illuminated only by the street
lamps, and wondered what her childhood would have looked like if she had been allowed to
live there in peace. The houses had either thatched roofs or were panelled, lined with stone
garden walls and beautifully kept gardens covered in a blanket of snow. Distantly, they could
hear singing coming from the church, a cheery familiar tune that Harry realised she hadn’t
heard in a while.

“Harry, I think it’s Christmas Eve,” Hermione murmured.

A soft smile graced Harry’s lips at the thought. She had always loved her Christmases at
Hogwarts or at least with Hermione and the Weasley’s. Normally, she would be fending off
nightmares as Molly fretted over every single vegetable and Ron complained about getting
socks again. Now, she stood in the village where she and Dumbledore had both lived for a
short time before tragedy struck. How she wished Dumbledore had lived long enough to
bring her to the village himself, to show her the house he had lived in and visit their families’
graves. He could have told her so much about his younger self, more than the tidbits she had
been granted over the years.

Her gaze went to the graveyard beside the church and gestured to it with her head. “Do you
think they’re in there, Hermione? My mum and dad.”

“I think so.”

It was strange how many familiar names, how many little puzzles lurked in the graveyard. A
tombstone with the same rune from Hermione’s book half-eroded away from the stone. The
two graves of Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had ever
visited them since the funeral, if he had placed flowers at their graves and reminisced with
Bathilda Bagshot before returning to Hogwarts.

“Harry, they’re over here,” Hermione said softly.

The headstones were only two rows away from the Dumbledore’s, made of the same white
marble as Dumbledore’s tomb. In the semi-darkness of the graveyard, it made the inscriptions
easier to read of her parents’ names in a simple font and beneath the words: ‘the last enemy
that shall be destroyed is death’. The words puzzled her. It had to have been Dumbledore who
had put her parents in proper graves, she couldn’t see Petunia forking out for white marble
headstones for her estranged sister and brother-in-law or putting a random inscription beneath
it. She knelt down in front of it, uncaring of the way the snow soaked through her jeans. For a
moment she could imagine them both smiling down at her as they had done in the Mirror of
Erised. It was a strange concept, she considered, that she was in front of her parents’ graves.
She had always known they were dead, of course, but to stand in front of living proof of it
was something else altogether. The memory of that night through Voldemort’s eyes ran
through her mind. Her father crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, unarmed and her mother’s
name on his lips. Her mother collapsing in front of Harry’s crib where Harry was crying for
her. Now they lay together, nothing but bones and decayed fabric with no idea that their child
was before them now and wishing that she was in there with them.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as Hermione placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and
conjured lilies to lie at the foot of the headstones. “Thank you,” she whispered.

With a deep breath, she managed to stop her tears and stood up, leaning into Hermione as the
pair left the graveyard. Harry walked on in a daze, longing for her parents’ embrace, when a
dark monument appeared in her line of sight. ‘It can’t be…’ She darted towards the end of
the row of houses they were walking down, stopping in front of the rusted garden gate.

The hedge had grown wild since the night Hagrid had taken a baby Harry away from the
rubble that was scattered amongst the high-waist grass. What was left of the cottage was
covered in ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart. She
wondered how it was that it was still standing. She had in passing discussed her parents’
estate with Draco and made vague plans of what she wanted to do with it. She’d laid her head
in his lap asking if he’d come with her to Godric’s Hollow one day and help her sort through
both her parents’ and Sirius’ things. He had been only too happy to accept, running his
fingers through her hair and promising they would go as soon as they graduated.

“Harry, look.” Hermione turned her attention towards a plaque that was half-hidden by the
overgrown nettles and bushes.

On this spot Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their daughter Harriet remains the only
witch ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left
in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters, and as a reminder of the violence that tore
apart their family.

It was touching to see that the house had been preserved in their memory, even more so to see
the scribbles of messages written by wizards and witches over the years offering their support
to Harry. She wondered if it was the Ministry or Dumbledore who had come up with the idea
to immortalise that night.

“Somebody’s watching us,” Hermione whispered and tugged at her arm.

They looked down the street and saw a woman, short and stout, standing in the middle of the
road facing them. Harry squinted at the woman, silently hoping that she was a witch and
wasn’t just a drunken old woman thinking they were staring at an empty plot. The woman
beckoned them over, and Harry pulled Hermione by the hand closer to the woman. A
gnawing suspicion of the woman’s identity grew inside of Harry as they came to stand in
front of her.

“Bathilda Bagshot?”

The woman nodded and beckoned again, urging them to follow her before she turned and
slowly hobbled through the village. Leading them past several houses, she turned in at a gate
of another rundown house with a garden equally as overgrown as Harry’s own. Fumbling
with the key for a moment, she opened the front door and let them pass. A foul odour came
from the woman, or maybe it was her house as Harry wrinkled her nose as they stepped into
the house. Old age, dust, unwashed clothes and stale food permeated the air. It reminded
Harry too much of Grimmauld Place.

“Bathilda? Bathilda Bagshot?” Harry repeated.

The woman nodded again before she began tottering about, lighting candles. Harry found it
hard to believe that a witch had allowed herself to live in such filth, when she could simply
clean it with a few simple spells. Then again, it was odd to see her physically lighting a
candle rather than flicking her wand. Perhaps it was simply a product of old age, yet she
seemed to have been able to remember so much about the Dumbledores. Harry held onto a
glimmer of hope that Rita Skeeter had simply made it up from whatever fragments Bathilda
had actually remembered.

“Harry, I don’t like this,” Hermione whispered.

With a sigh, Harry ignored her and looked around the house, noting the many empty frames
littering the house. She imagined that most of those photos were now inside of Rita Skeeter’s
book. There was one though that remained untouched on the mantlepiece. Harry stared in
disbelief as she recognised the young man in the photograph, the blonde-haired thief from
Gregorovitch’s shop. He smirked lazily back at the camera, his eyes two different colours
despite the monochromatic lens.

“Who is this?”

Bathilda merely stared at her, her mouth unmoving, before lighting more candles. Harry
frowned, putting the photograph down and coming closer to the older witch again. “Do you
have something for us? Is that why you brought us here?”

The witch nodded slowly and gestured towards the tiny staircase which she made her way
towards, without checking if Harry was behind her. “I think she wants me to follow her.”

“Harry, are you sure about this?” Hermione asked warily.

“Not really, but I’ve survived worse. Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

She wandered through the house after Bathilda, pulled by some unknown force up the stairs
with no regards to what Bathilda wanted with her. As she walked, she could hear familiar
voices in her head encouraging her to keep following the old witch.
“Do you have something for me?” she asked gently. “Did Dumbledore give you a message
for me? About V-about Tom Riddle?”

Bathilda merely gazed down at the locket around Harry’s neck then gestured further into the
bedroom. Harry grasped onto her wand, searching the room for sight of a bejewelled hilt or
something else familiar to her from Dumbledore’s office.

“Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you?
But do you ache for him?”

Harry turned to her confused, her scar burning slightly, only to step back at the sight of the
witch morphing into a python. Nagini hissed up at her, but didn’t strike.

“Harry!”

Only at the sound of Hermione’s panicked voice did the snake lunge at her, its fangs
noticeably absent as Harry darted out of its line of fire. Its tail struck out, intent on wrapping
itself around Harry’s foot. When she avaided it, Nagini struck again as she raised her wand at
the snake, knocking her wand out of her hands and left a crushing blow to Harry’s midrift
with its tail. She fell backwards onto the dressing table, breaking the glass of its mirror as she
nearly crumpled to the floor.

From below, she could hear Hermione call her name: “Harry?”

Gasping for breath, she struggled to avoid the glass but was otherwise unharmed. “No
offence, but you’re really shit at this,” she panted.

“He will not have you harmed,” the snake hissed.

Harry could barely focus between catching her breath and the pain from her scar searing
through her. Then she felt herself pushed to the floor as a heavy mass wrapped itself around
her body. In the far corner of the room, Voldemort’s younger visage began to laugh, a deep
evil laugh.

“Oh dear, you look a little tied up,” he chuckled darkly.

“Not helping, Tom!” she wheezed.

Then Nagini released her, and she watched as the snake was thrown to the other side of the
room. Hermione stood in the doorway, terrified with her wand raised. A feeling ran through
her then. A rush of adrenaline that she knew wasn’t hers, flashes of hurtling through the air in
a mass of black robes. “Oh shit…” she thought as her scar burned against her forehead.

“Hermione! He’s coming!”

It was all a blur then. One minute Nagini wasn’t there, the next she lunged forward at them
again. Hermione screamed spells at the snake whilst Harry dazedly looked for her own wand.
Then they were crashing through the bedroom window and reverberating through the sky.
The last thing Harry remembered before passing out was one word: ‘Tom’.
----

Harry stretched along her cot, exhausted from the night’s events. She awoken hours later, her
throat sore and her voice hoarse. The locket had all but seared itself against her chest, leaving
a red mark from where Hermione had to use a spell to remove it for her. She could feel
Voldemort’s anger in the back of her mind, annoyance at having lost her again.

“Well, we learned one thing: Bathilda Bagshot knew the thief Voldemort’s looking for.

“I think she did more than know him.” Hermione gestured to the copy of Rita Skeeter’s book
she’d pinched from Bathilda’s home. “He was her nephew.”

“Ok, well who is he?”

“Gellert Grindlewald.”

Dots connected instantly for Harry as she stared at the photo of the pair in the book. That was
how Dumbledore had met the love of his life, in Godric’s Hollow after the other boy had
been expelled from Drumstrang and sent to live with his aunt. Two lonely, angry boys found
each other in a small village and fell in love. Her heart sank though as she read the chapter
thoroughly, remembering Dumbledore’s words that night in the Astronomy Tower. She
wanted to believe them now more than anything, that what he and Grindelwald had dreamt of
had been the plans of disillusioned teenagers who were unable to control their own fate. That
Dumbledore realised how wrong he had been, and had spent the rest of his life making
amends for it.

“Did you know?” Hermione asked softly.

Harry shook her head. “Parts of it.”

There were parts of the book that she didn’t believe. She couldn’t imagine Dumbledore
killing his sister as part of this plot for world domination. She thought back to the night in the
cave and how he had sobbed, blaming himself for some unseen trauma in his past. If Ariana
had died in the house, that could been what had snapped Dumbledore out of his ideals.
Redirecting his energy towards protecting Muggles than dominating them, becoming the
Dumbledore she had known and loved.

“Are you angry?”

Glancing down at the dustjacket, she sighed, “A little.”

Maybe Harry would be more so if Dumbledore had never told her about Grindelwald, but he
had alluded to it once. Granted, he hadn’t gone into details of how Dumbledore and
Grindelwald had bounced ideas off each other that Grindelwald later used in his rise to
power. But he had told her more than he had probably told most people. Perhaps he had kept
it secret all these years out of embarrassment, or indeed fear. He had been in love with
Grindlewald, after all, during a time where such things weren’t so easily accepted as
nowadays. That didn’t excuse the prejudice against Muggles or plans for world domination,
of course, but Harry could understand love.
Love had made her do stupid, reckless things. She had broke into the Ministry without telling
a single adult because she loved Sirius. She had let Draco take her virginity despite knowing
he was a Death Eater, because she loved him. She endeavoured to forgive Dumbledore
because she loved him also. She just prayed that everyone was right though, and he had loved
her too.

Hermione placed a comforting hand on Harry’s thigh. “I know it’s not the nicest thing to
read, and even Rita can’t pretend that they knew each other for more than few months when
they were young-”

“I do. He finally somehow who understood him. Who looked at all his flaws and all his
charms, and loved him anyway. You know, sometimes I feel that way about Tom.”

She felt Hermione flinch beside her. “Harry…”

“Don’t, Hermione. You don’t understand. You’ve no idea how it is to grow up the way I did,
to feel so lonely and unloved. Then to know that there is someone who gets it.” Harry closed
her eyes tightly, her fingers brushing over the oval burn on her chest. “He’s a complete and
utter monster, but he knows me better than anyone else.”

Hermione was silent for a while before plucking up the courage to ask hesitantly: “Do you
love him?”

“No! It’s not-” She paused. “It’s not as simple as that. But there is something, something that
makes me want him to feel remorse for what he’s done so I don’t have to kill him.”

“It’s normal to feel conflicted about killing someone, Harry. That doesn’t mean you have
feelings for him.”

Harry scoffed, “His affection for me is inconvenient. He’s more myself than I am. Whatever
our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” She paused to lick her lips. “He’s always
in my mind. Not as a pleasure, anymore than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my
own being.”

“Harry… did you just quote Wuthering Heights?”

With a flush of embarrassment, she huffed: “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who brought a whole
bloody library with her. Boredom’s making me cultured.”

A chuckle escaped Hermione, “I’m glad to hear it. Though I wish you wouldn’t use it in
reference to You-Know-Who.”

Harry smirked, “Noted. I’ll borrow your wand till we find me a new one. I’ll keep watch.”

Hermione handed over her wand, a look of reluctance flashing over her face for a moment
before heading over to her cot. Harry forced a smile and slipped out of the tent only to be met
by a slow clapping.

“Brava! Bravisima!” She flinched at the sound of Voldemort’s voice and glanced over to
where he was leaning against a nearby tree. “Such a wonderful performance, sweet girl.
Honestly, you should be on the stage.”

“I’m not the one sending my pets to do my dirty work for me. What’s wrong, Tom? Running
out of followers?” she snarked.

“Nagini is strong enough to handle you until I got there.”

Harry smirked, “And yet, I escaped. You must be losing your touch, old man.”

A weary sigh escaped the illusion as he stepped away from the tree, sauntering towards her.
“Unforeseen circumstances, my darling, I am sure. If I had truly been there in time, it
wouldn’t have been an issue.”

“Really, Tom? That’s where you wanted to claim me? In a dirty old house with a dead body
rotting downstairs?” she grimaced.

“Besides, if it was such an obvious trap then why did you fall for it?”

She shot him a pointed look. “You know why I went.”

“Yes, yes, you were looking to see if your beloved Dumbledore had left you a message. What
did you find instead? Tell me, Harry, does it disappoint you to learn how cruel Dumbledore
was capable of being?”

Harry stared at him for a moment, considering his words before turning her attention back to
the darkened forest around her. “No. How could I be disappointed in him when I so easily
could have done the same thing?”

She settled down onto a tree stump with a weary sigh, “Now, unless you’re gonna burst into
song to entertain me for the next hour or so, fuck off.”
 To Trammel Some Wild Thing
Chapter Notes

One last chapter before Malfoy Manor, folks, and prepare for the angst

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Fingertips traced over the scar left by the locket as she looked into the mirror, which was
thankfully healing nicely but she doubted it would ever fully heal. It was strange just how
much Voldemort was intent on leaving impressions on her. Even a few days since Godric’s
Hollow, she could still feel the pressure of Nagini wrapping herself around her and
sometimes she found herself bolting up in bed, gasping for breath at the memory. Hermione
was scared, she could tell. Scared enough to move them again, terrified of the thought that
Voldemort would simply slip into the tent during the night. Harry didn’t protest though, and
so they found themselves in the Forest of Dean.

There was a thin layer of snow on the ground as Harry left the tent to take the night’s watch,
wand in hand and locket around her neck. Her thoughts drifted back to Dumbledore and his
twinkling, trusting eyes.

A bright silver light appeared right ahead of her, moving slowly through the trees towards the
camp. Squinting in the darkness, Harry tried to make out the shape of it. The light was
familiar, but didn’t seem to be ominous. Then it stepped out into plain sight as a silver-white
doe, illuminated like moonlight, staring at Harry. For a moment, it simply looked at her
before turning away.

“Wait!” she croaked.

Without a second thought, Harry sprinted after it, abandoning her blanket and the safety of
the wards in pursuit of a Patronus. Deeper into the forest it drew her, far away from
Hermione until she found herself standing in front of a frozen pool, that same light spreading
out across its ice and then vanishing. Harry looked around frantically for a moment, half-
expecting someone or something to jump out at her. When nothing appeared, she frowned
and peered down at the pond.

“I am losing my mind…” she muttered to herself.

Then she caught a glimpse of something at the bottom of the pond. She angled her wand so
as to flood the pool with light, revealing a glint of red. And there it was, the sword of
Gryffindor lying at the bottom of a pond in the middle of the Forest of Dean.

“How the fuck did-?” she wondered aloud, looking around for any source of life. Shaking her
head, she pointed her wand back at the sword and murmured: “Accio sword.”
The sword didn’t move, because things were never that simple for Harry. There was no way
her magic would be able to summon it, and as far as she was aware there was no lady of the
lake to thrust it through the ice for her. More was the pity, as she considered the freezing
temperature of the water. With fumbling fingers and curses under her breath, she removed all
of her clothing save for her underwear before cracking the ice with a simple spell.

The pool wasn’t deep, but it didn’t look inviting in the moonlight. Despite that, she knew she
would only be able to reach the sword by completely submerging herself. She stepped to the
pool’s edge and placed Hermione’s wand, still illuminating, onto the ground.

With a deep exhale, she muttered: “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

The water was freezing as she dove under the ice, colder than the Black Lake had been in
Fourth Year. Her lungs protested fiercely as the cold forced its way through her body, making
it harder for her to push herself further under the water. Then something closed tight around
her neck, and it only then occurred to her that she still had the locket around her neck.
Thrashing about, she attempted to claw her way back to the surface but her fingertips brushed
against a cover of ice as her scar burned.

“Harry, don’t defy me…” she heard his hiss in her mind before her vision went.

Oxygen had never tasted so sweet as she gulped it down between coughing and panting, her
body suddenly pressed against the frozen ground once more. She had no idea what had
happened, but vaguely recalled the feeling of an arm wrapped around her body.

“Are you mental?” a familiar voice croaked.

Harry glanced up and found Ron panting beside her, immediately scrambling to her feet.
“Ron! It was you? You conjured the doe?”

Ron frowned, “No. My Patronus is a dog, remember? I thought it were you to be honest.”

“Mine’s a stag.”

Realisation dawned on Ron and he smiled nervously, “Ah, yeah. Antlers.”

“Well, biology was never your strong suit,” she muttered dryly before throwing her clothes
back on. “Why are you here then?”

Shuffling his feet awkwardly, Ron shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well… I’ve come back.
I mean, if you still want me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Harry came to stand in front of him and held his face in between her
cold hands. “Of course, I still want you. Where would I be without you or Hermione, huh?”
She then clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s kill this thing.”

The Sword of Gryffindor was retrieved, held by Ron as Harry finished getting dressed. A
quick spell and Harry was no longer chattering through her teeth, a flood of warmth reaching
down to her extremities.
Harry then laid the locket on a fallen log and gestured to it. “Go on then. Have at it.”
“Oh no you don’t, that thing affects me more than it does you or Hermione.”

“Agree to disagree, but all the more reason for you to do it. Now, I’m going to open it using
Parseltongue, ok?”

Ron looked hesitant, but held the sword tightly and nodded. Harry then trained her eyes on
the locket and murmured in Parseltongue: “Open.”

The locket obeyed her with a hiss, and a chill ran down Harry’s spine at the familiar feeling
of Voldemort’s presence. “I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your
fears,” his voice drawled, echoing throughout the forest.

Smoke emerged from the locket, spilling down onto the forest floor and transforming into a
swarm of spiders. Ron stumbled backwards, terrified at the sight of them as they tried to
crawl over him.

“Don’t listen to him, Ron!” Harry shouted.

“Least loved by the mother who craved a daughter… second best, always eternally
overshadowed…”

“Ron-!” Seeing the fear on Ron’s face as his insecurities were brought to light, Harry cried:
“Tom, leave him alone. It’s me you want, not him.”

The smoke then transformed as Ron clambered back to his feet, hesitantly holding the sword.
This time, it took the form of Tom Riddle, his red eyes glowing against his smoke form as he
turned to face her. “Of course, who could look at Ronald Weasley beside Harry Potter? Who
could ever live up to The Girl Who Lived?”

“Yeah, and I would have died a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Ron. He’s fought with me.
Protected me. Loved me, since we first met. You only gave a shit when I sprouted tits!”

A knowing smirk graced the illusion’s lips. “Oh, but I have been loyal, my love. My
affections for you have not waned because of my own insecurities and petty jealousies. If
anything, they have grown stronger. Yet here you stand, my rebellious Harry, encouraging
your friend to destroy me when that is the last thing you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“Of course, I do. I know you better than anyone in this world. For you and I were meant to do
extraordinary things, my love. Once I rid you of your blood traitors and Mudbloods, we will
do just that. Now, be a good girl for me and tell him to put down the sword.”

A single tear streaked down her cheek. “Go to hell.” Over Voldemort’s shoulder, she saw Ron
raise the sword high, his face full of anguish before the sword plunged down at the locket.
“Ron, now!”

A swarm of magic knocked the pair of them to the ground as a horrifying scream echoed
around them. The smoke version of Tom Riddle disappeared, and all that remained was the
shattered remains of the locket and Ron standing over it. The sword clanged against the
ground as Ron finally dropped it, his hands shaking terribly from both the adrenaline and the
cold. Harry’s own hands trembled as she pocketed the remains of the locket, now blackened
and cracked.

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I left like that. I’m such a-a-”

She knelt in front of him, holding his head in her hands and pressed her forehead against his.
“You are, and always will be my best friend. And you came back, that’s all that matters.”

Ron nodded before the pair parted, readjusting their clothing and shuddering against the cold.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t hold it against you later on though,” she smirked.

A fond laugh escaped Ron as he picked up the sword and wrapped an arm around Harry’s
shoulder as the pair headed back to the campsite.

———-

In the cold light of morning, Harry and Ron returned to the camp. Harry bounded towards the
tent, shouting Hermione’s name until she emerged, flustered. “Wh-what’s happened? Are you
ok?”

“More than alright,” she grinned as she gestured behind her to where Ron was standing
awkwardly. “Look what I found! Can we keep him?”

“Hey…” he grinned nervously.

Hermione’s face instantly changed from mild surprise to fury as her gaze zeroed-in on Ron
before she then launched herself at the redhead.

“You complete arsehole, Ronald Weasley!” she screeched as she beat her fists against his
chest. “Weeks. You buggered off weeks ago and all you can say is ‘hey’?!”

When Ron simply gaped at her, she turned her attention back to Harry. “Where’s my wand,
Harry? Give me my wand,” she demanded.

Folding her arms, Harry shot her an amused look. “Yeah, I’m not doing that, Little Miss
Violence-Solves-Nothing.”

“Harry, I’m serious-”

“So am I.” Harry softened her gaze a little and murmured, “Talk to him. He just saved my life
destroying the Horcrux.”

“I don’t care if he destroyed a Horcrux, Harry! He left us! We could have been dead and he
abandoned us-!”

“I wanted to come back the minute I Disapparated, but I walked straight into a gang of
Snatchers, and I couldn’t go anywhere!” Ron cried.

“Gang of what?”
“Snatchers. They’re everywhere, trying to earn gold by rounding up Muggleborns and blood
traitors. There’s a reward from the Ministry for anyone you bring in. Not the brightest sparks
exactly, but they got dead excited because I look school age.”

“I told you to grow a beard,” Harry muttered dryly.

Ron shot her a pointed look. “Anyway, by the time I got away, you had already left.”

Hermione scoffed, about to launch into another tirade when Harry interrupted her: “How did
you find us exactly?”

“With this,” he explained as he pulled out the Deluminator from his pocket. “I don’t know
how it works but Christmas morning I was sleeping in this pub, keeping away from some
Snatchers. And I heard it. I heard Hermione.”

“And what did I say exactly?” she sniffed.

“My name. Just my name,” he said with a soft smile. “So, I took it, clicked it and this tiny
ball of light appeared. The light went straight through me, but I knew it would take me
exactly where I needed to go. So, I Disapparated and came to this hillside. It was dark, and I
had no idea where I was. Just hoped one of you would find me. And you did.”

Harry looked at Hermione, wondering if she was finding it as romantic as she was. But
Hermione didn’t say anything, just looked back at Ron with a look that was half-longing and
half-resentment. In truth, it was a normal look that Hermione gave Ron. With that sense of
normality brought back to the camp, Harry clapped her hands together once to break the
tension.

“Well, I don’t know about anyone else but I could use a cuppa,” Harry muttered and headed
towards the tent. “Shall we?”

———-

The wand Ron had stolen from the Snatchers wasn’t wonderful. In fact, it nearly set the tent
on fire when Harry tested it, but it would do. She could always set the Death Eaters on fire if
they came too close again. Although, she wasn’t exactly thrilled at returning Hermione’s
wand to her as she still cast glares back at Ron at any given moment. Neither of her friends’
tempers were easily calmed, but then again, she supposed neither was her own. There was a
tense environment now in the tent, but less than it had been before Ron had left. Now, it
seemed Ron was doing everything in his power not to irritate Hermione and Harry found
herself wondering why he hadn’t been doing that all along.
“I want to see Xenophilius Lovegood.”

Harry blinked as Hermione burst into the tent. “I assume this won’t be a social call.”

Hermione huffed and shoved Rita Skeeter’s book into Harry’s hands, gesturing to the rune
they kept seeing. “See this? It’s a letter Dumbledore wrote to Grindelwald. It’s that symbol
again. In Beedle the Bard. In the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow. Xenophilius was wearing it
at the wedding too.”
“Alright, and?” Ron grunted.

With pursed lips, Hermione continued: “Look, you don’t know where the next Horcrux is,
and neither do I. But this is something. It can’t just be a coincidence that it keeps popping up
everywhere, and if it does mean something… then I want to know what.”

Harry sat down on her cot, leaning forward with her hands clasped together as if in deep
contemplation. “So, let me get this straight. You want to temporarily abandon our quest for
Horcruxes to visit the well-meaning but probably deluded father of our friend. This is based
on some doodle of a rune you keep finding that you think might have some significance on
said quest. Also, this is in total disregard of the fact that the last time we did a little side-
quest, I was nearly held hostage by a snake.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Well, what is life without a little risk? Now does anyone have any idea where Luna lives?”

———

There was an uneasiness around Xenophilius Lovegood that hadn’t been present when Harry
had first met him at the wedding. Unkempt and skittish, a complete personality change from
the man dressed in yellow dancing with his daughter. It was strange, considering how eager
the man had been in the past of supporting Harry through the Quibbler. Harry assumed that
such a thing wasn’t probably winning the man any points with the current administration. Yet
he was more than happy to explain to them the tale behind the Deathly Hallows, even if it
was apparent that Hermione didn’t believe him. An invisibility cloak, she could allow the
existence of, but not a resurrection stone. Harry though, was less sceptical. She had seen
more odd and dangerous things in the past six years to accept that somethings weren’t
explainable. She had held the Philosopher’s Stone in her pocket after merely thinking about
saving it from Quirrell, and watched as her touch turned the professor’s face to ash.
However, there was something more pressing than the possible existence of items from a
fairytale. As Xenophilius disappeared into the kitchen, Harry sneaked upstairs to Luna’s
bedroom. A thick layer of dust lay across the entire multi-coloured bedroom, her wardrobe
was empty, and the bed looked as if it hadn’t been slept in for weeks. It was still the
Christmas break and Luna should have been home, but they hadn’t seen a single sign that she
was there.

A feeling of dread filled Harry as she returned to Hermione and Ron. She signalled to them to
grab their things, before quietly entering the kitchen to find Xenophilius standing by the
kitchen window, muttering to himself.

“Mr Lovegood, where’s Luna?” she asked softly.

Xenophilius stilled. “I-She is down at Bottom Bridge, fishing for Plimpies.”

“I don’t think Luna’s been here for weeks, sir. Her clothes are gone. Her bed hasn’t been slept
in. Where is she, sir? Where’s Luna?”
“They took my Luna,” he whispered as he turned to face them. “Because of what I’d been
writing. They were so angry.”

There were tears in the man’s eyes and Harry felt pity for him, this man who had lost his wife
to experiments and his daughter to a war she had no part in. Xenophilius came forward and
pushed the hair away from Harry’s scar and muttered bitterly: “But it’s you they really want.
The Girl Who Lived.”

Closing her eyes, Harry sighed, “I’m sorry, sir. I really am. But this isn’t the answer.”

They were prevented from saying else by the arrival of Death Eaters and the explosion that
accompanied them. Rubble and fragments of wood and paper flew into the air as the trio dove
to the floor, and Xenophilius attempted to spare his house from the Death Eater’s spells.
Despite the mayhem around them, Harry spared a thought for the father begging for the
return of his daughter, and hoped the Death Eaters would be lenient. But just to ensure the
man’s safety, she probed at the connection in her mind.

“Lovegood wasn’t lying, Tom. Don’t you dare hurt him,” she grumbled.

As Hermione grabbed both hers and Ron’s hands, she felt a tinge of acknowledgement and a
heavy sigh echo through her mind. “Next time, just stay put.”

With a snort, the trio apparated away.

———

“That treacherous old bleeder,” Ron growled as they emerged in another unfamiliar forest. “Is
there anyone we can trust?!”

Harry sighed as she got to her feet, dusting the rubble off herself. “They only took her
because he supported me. I’m not taking it personally.”

“Fine,” he sulked as he helped Hermione up. “I’ll start on the wards.”

Yet as they turned around, dark figures rose from the undergrowth around them. There was at
least half a dozen of them, all dressed in black and sneering down at the teenagers.

“Well, well, well, what have we here then?” a thick estuary accent drawled.

In an instant, the trio began to run through the forest as fast as their legs could carry them, but
the Snatchers were quick on their tail. Spells were cast and hit nearby trees as the adrenaline
forced them to run faster, the fear of what would happen to them fuelling it. Harry saw Ron’s
legs fall under him as chains wrapped around them, and was about to scream for Hermione
when suddenly Hermione was in front of her with her wand raised.

“Oh shit…”

The Stinging Hex swelled her face as if she was having an allergic reaction, but that didn’t
matter as the Snatchers were on them instantly. Harry groaned as her face was pressed against
the ground before a Snatcher pulled her up by her jacket.
 “Leave her alone!” she heard Ron roar as he was dragged towards them.

The leader of the Snatchers rolled his eyes as Hermione attempted to protect Ron from the
fist that landed in his midsection. “Your little boyfriend going to have a lot worse done to him
if he don’t cooperate.”

He then turned to Harry. “What happened to you, darlin’?” When Harry didn’t answer, he
asked: “What’s your name?”

“Petunia. Petunia Dudley,” she spat.

Harry tried her best to remain calm as she realised, she was being held by Fenrir Greyback.
She recognised his face from the night Dumbledore died, and he was just as foul as she had
remembered. Then she felt her scar begin to burn and she was too focussed on the pain to
realise that the leader was caressing her swollen face. She barely registered the way his eyes
lit up at the slight hint of a scar on her forehead.

“Change of plans, boys. We’ve caught ourselves a rare prize indeed.”

Chapter End Notes

😊
I know it says Dudley not Dursley but I checked and Harry does say his name is Vernon
Dudley
 Prisoner of War
Chapter Notes

It's here. The awfully long Malfoy Manor chapter and reunion between Draco and
Harry.

Malfoy Manor was a truly beautiful monument to British architecture with its numerous large
windows that gave the manor the appearance of being more glass than wall. The estate was
surrounded by a large wall and white peacocks wandered aimlessly about the front lawn. It
had been the background to several carefree moments away from the Dursley’s before
heading into London for school supplies, and Harry had missed it dearly. Unfortunately,
Harry was unable to properly reminisce as her eyes were still swollen and her glasses were in
Hermione’s pocket. She knew it was Malfoy Manor though from the blurry silhouette of the
building in front of her and the smell of roses lingering in the air as they walked down the
gravelled path to the front door.

“What is this?” a woman’s voice demanded as the door opened.

Greyback pulled back at her hair, tilting her face up towards the light from inside the manor.
“We’ve caught Potter!”

“Pardon, ma’am, for her appearance,” the leader known as Scabior said. “We thought it best
to come to you for verification so we can summon the Dark Lord.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened slightly as she took note of the scar and green eyes straining beneath
swollen skin. With a sigh, she opened the door further. “You had better come in.”

They were shoved inside and led into the drawing room, a place where Harry had spent many
evenings playing Wizard Chess and cards with Draco after dinner whilst his parents had their
after-dinner coffees. Now, the room seemed a hollow shelf of itself with the only source of
warmth coming from the fireplace that Lucius was sat in front of, tapping his fingers along
the arm of his chair. He looked dishevelled, dark bags hanging beneath his eyes as if he
hadn't been able to sleep properly since the night he was arrested. Both of the Malfoys looked
like they were clinging desperately to the air of grandeur they had worked so hard to upkeep
during Voldemort's absence.

“What the devil is going on here?” Lucius drawled as he rose from his seat.

“They think they have Harry, dear.”

Lucius’ eyes focussed on Harry and a flicker of recognition crossed his face before returning
to his usual stoic expression. “Oh, do they now?”
A delighted cackle emerged from the shadows and Harry’s blood ran cold as Bellatrix
stepped out into the middle of the room. “Oh, what marvellous news! The Dark Lord will be
pleased indeed." She sauntered over to where Greyback was holding onto Harry and smirked,
“Get Draco.”

The Malfoys exchanged nervous glances. “Bella, I don’t think-” Narcissa said softly.

“Now, Cissy!” Bellatrix hissed.

Narcissa stared at her sister, unnerved by her sharp tongue, before leaving the room to find
her son. Harry watched her leave with bated breath, hoping uselessly that Draco had slipped
out without his parents noticing. Lucius and Narcissa knew her well, sure enough, but not as
well as Draco did.

“Now, we won’t be forgetting who exactly found her I hope, Mr Malfoy?” Scabior
interjected.

Lucius rolled his eyes and sneered, “Naturally, I would hate to deprive you of your prize.”

Narcissa returned to the room, this time with Draco in tow who slowly walked past the
gaggle of Snatchers towards where Harry was. Bellatrix pulled her out of Greyback’s
clutches and forced her to the floor, pulling back her head to her swollen face to Draco.
“Come have a look, sweetie. Is it her?”

“I-I’m not sure,” he murmured. He was doing his best to avoid looking at her, as if the
thought of looking at her would make her presence real.

“Look carefully, son. If we are the ones to find her and bring her to the Dark Lord, all will be
forgiven.” Harry could hear the uneasiness in Lucius’ voice, saw the way he looked at her
with a glimmer of shame.

Hesitantly, Draco knelt in front of her and stared at her intently. His hand came up to trace the
grooves of the scar on her forehead before wiping away the lone tear that had managed to
escape from her least swollen eye. “What happened to her face?” he asked softly.

Lucius rebounded onto the Snatchers and snarled, “What did you do to her? Why is her face
like that?”

“That wasn’t us, sir,” Scabior replied with his hands raised. “Something she picked up in the
forest, I reckon.”

“Looks like a Stinging Jinx to me,” he sniffed.

“Well, Draco, is it her?” Bellatrix prompted.

Draco had known it was her the moment he locked eyes on her. He knew from the shaggy
mess of black hair, the scent of sweat that lingered on her, and the scar across her forehead.
He grasped her hand gently and stroked over the raised skin from the scar reading ‘I must not
tell lies’. Telling the truth would possibly redeem his family and save them from Voldemort’s
wrath. Maybe then his father’s hands would stop trembling and they wouldn’t be so terrified
to open the door to their own home. Yet he could not bring himself to say anything.

“If it is Potter, the Dark Lord needs to be told.”

Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bella, if we summon him and it isn’t, he’ll kill us all.
Seeing as I quite enjoy breathing, I won’t be jumping to any conclusions here.”

“It must be her! That one there, that’s her Mudblood friend. And that ginger mutt, he’s
another of those Weasley’s, I reckon. That girl never goes anywhere without at least one of
them. It must be her!”

Narcissa came over and placing a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder, urging him away
from Harry. Harry was thankful for that, as she had seen the guilt-stricken tears threatening to
fall in his eyes the longer he looked at her. Then her attention was diverted by the pain in her
scar as she felt Voldemort soaring through the clouds, through snow-covered mountainous
ranges to a castle built into the very stone of the mountains. She barely registered the
horrified gasp Bellatrix emitted as she finally noticed the Sword of Gryffindor in the hands of
a Snatcher, or the ensuing chaos as she chased the Snatchers out of the house.

“Draco, if you cannot even be trusted to identify Potter correctly, make sure those worms
leave the estate,” Bellatrix growled.

“Don’t you dare talk to Draco like that-!” Narcissa snapped.

“Quiet, Cissy! The situation is graver than we could imagine. Snape gave me that sword to
put into my vault,” she screeched. She then whirled herself around to face Hermione and
Ron. “How the hell did you get your hands on it?”

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances but said nothing. Bellatrix snarled in frustration,
pacing around the room frantically. “If this is Potter, she cannot be harmed,” she muttered to
herself. “The Dark Lord wishes to deal with Potter himself… but if he finds out about this…”

She spun around, pointing to Hermione and Ron. “The prisoners must be placed in the cellar,
while I think what to do!”

“This is my house, Bella, you don’t give the orders in my-!” Lucius snapped.

“Just do it!” she shrieked. “But not the Mudblood. I need to have a little chat with this one.”

Hermione cried out as she was pulled away from Ron and brought before Bellatrix, who
grabbed her by her hair with a menacing gleam in her eye. “Get your hands off her!” Ron
yelled but was pulled back along with Harry by Greyback, dragged out of the room and down
a dark passageway.

“Reckon she’ll let me have a bit of your little friend when she’s finished with her?” Greyback
crooned as he leaned down to sniff Harry’s hair. “Shame you’re the Dark Lord’s, Potter, you
smell awfully good too.”
Withholding a shudder, Harry could feel Ron shaking with anger as they were led down to a
flight of stairs and what appeared to be the cellar. Just as Greyback shoved them inside, a
piercing scream came from directly above them.

“Hermione!” Ron bellowed, banging his bound hands against the door. “Hermione!”

Suddenly a searing pain shot down her forehead from her scar, making Harry feel lightheaded
under its force. She stumbled towards Ron but her vision began to blue more than it had been
without her glasses.

“Ron, I don’t…” she manged to say before passing out on the cellar floor.

----

The halls of Nurmengard Castle whistled with the wind blowing through the mountains, a
sound that he had once found comforting when he considered this place his home. Now it
served to remind him that he could never leave. There was something to be said about irony,
or whatever it was he knew Dumbledore would say or had said when he was first imprisoned
here. His memory was foggy on the details. The thought of Dumbledore left a bittersweet
feeling in his heart. The news of his death had only served to make that ache more
pronounced these last few months. He felt rather than heard the intruder enter his cell as he
stirred awake. Such dark magic radiated behind him and it made his hair stand on end. There
was only one person alive who could have such a presence.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever meet you, Lord Voldemort,” he croaked. His voice
was weak from a lack of use but it was still loud enough in the small cell.

“And what do you think?”

Grindelwald turned away from the small window in his cell to take in the reptilian-like man
before him. His black robes flowing around him like shadows and crimson eyes that bore into
the other wizard. He wore a smirk that reminded him of his own when he was younger, and it
made him want to shudder.

“I’m waiting to be impressed.”

Voldemort’s lips folded into a scowl. He looked down at the shadow of a man before him, a
man he had read about eagerly in his youth. Gellert Grindelwald. The man who had risen to
power and nearly dominated the Wizarding World, only to be defeated by Dumbledore.
Looking at him, you would never think that was who he was. His face was gaunt and
wrinkled, his once blonde hair now white and straggly around his face, but his eyes betrayed
his identity.

“I know why you’ve come, Tom, but I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. I never had it.”

“You lie!” Voldemort snarled.

He wondered briefly just how long this wizard had been working on finding the wand, how
many people had died in his search for it. All so he could have one little wand. He understood
the appeal, he supposed. Even in his youth though, he had not killed for it. The wand chooses
the wizard, was the adage most wandmakers were known to say in their sales pitches to every
new nubile witch or wizard looking to buy their first wand. He had simply been lucky the
wand had chosen him at the time. Dumbledore would probably say it was fate though, some
romantic notion of what was meant to be.

For a moment, he envisioned a young Albus. His long red hair and twinkling blue eyes,
smiling back at him as they lay on the grass, the way his hands were smooth as they linked
their fingers together in the afterglow. He wasn’t too proud to admit he missed him, and that
he knew Albus had missed him too. His Albus. Who never truly stopped loving him even
when he lay defeated at his feet, the pair of them silently acknowledging their fight was over.

“I know you had it, so where is it?” Voldemort demanded.

He knew where it was, of course. Had always known where it was since that day in 1945
when he had been brought to his knees by his once lover. However, that didn’t mean he
would just let Voldemort know that. The Elder Wand obeyed ancient magic, and would only
obey whoever defeated Dumbledore. Even if he had been caught unawares, Dumbledore
would never have allowed Voldemort onto Hogwarts’ grounds and therefore, the wand
wouldn’t obey him. Dumbledore had said in his letters once, that Voldemort didn’t
understand ancient magic and, in that moment, he knew that he was right. It had ruined him
once and now Grindelwald foresaw how it would ruin him again. ‘Clever boy, Albus’, he
thought fondly.

Voldemort sneered, “To think such a powerful wizard could be reduced to this. You are
pathetic.”

Something flickered in the other’s eyes that hadn’t been present for a very long time.
“Pathetic, am I? I nearly raised Europe to the ground. You? You have a strange fixation on a
school and a little girl. It is not I who is pathetic, Tom.”

“How dare you speak to me like that!”

“You and I will meet the same fate, Tom. Except your executioner doesn’t have the luxury of
locking you away. She will have to kill you and it will be your own doing.”

A growl escaped Voldemort as he brandished his wand at the other wizard. “Tell me what I
want to know. Or do I have to force it from you?”

Grindelwald glanced at the wand and merely laughed, “Kill me then, Tom, I welcome death!
But my death will not bring you what you seek…there is so much you do not understand!”

“Enlighten me then,” he sneered.

Shaking his head, Grindelwald met his gaze. “Harriet Potter. You think that when this is over,
she will fall into yours arms and you will rule the Wizarding World together. You think she is
the only one you could consider an equal, and you are right. For she is your destiny, and she
is your doom.”
“Harry is mine!”

“No, she isn’t,” he replied calmly. “The only part of her that is yours is that scar. Just how
many people have to die before you realise that?”

Voldemort’s body began shaking with unbridled rage and for a moment, Grindelwald pitied
the girl who could probably feel his anger ebbing away at her a thousand miles away.
Dumbledore had warned him in his letters that Voldemort was perversely possessive of the
girl, and his intentions towards her had twisted from victim to prospective lover. The thought
curdled inside of him.

“You cannot win! That wand, that girl will never, ever be yours-!”

His laughter echoed throughout the cell, manic and yet bittersweet. He didn’t care if the other
man killed him. at this point, he’d be doing him a favour. At least then he wouldn’t spend
every waking moment grieving Albus and wishing he was strong enough to avenge his death.
At least maybe, just maybe he’d see him again if the universe decided to be kind to him one
more time.

“Albus, my beautiful genius boy…”

----

Harry came to on cold stone floor with Ron’s face hovering above her own. She yelped and
sat up, banging their foreheads together. “Did I pass out?” she grumbled, rubbing her
forehead tenderly.

“You were having a fit. Nearly gave Malfoy a heart attack when I started shouting. He
wanted to bring you upstairs but Bellatrix wouldn’t hear of it. Said you had to be contained,”
he huffed. “You never told me they had a dungeon.”

Harry blinked, taking in her surroundings. “Yeah, well architecture was never my strong suit.
Where’s Hermione?”

“Upstairs. With Bellatrix.”

A chill ran down Harry’s spine and she instantly jumped to her feet, launching herself at the
iron-clad gate that locked them inside. “Bellatrix, you touch her and I will cut your heart out
with a spoon!” she screamed.

“Mate, mate, calm down,” Ron said as he coaxed her away from the bars and sat her back
down. “Why a spoon?”

“Because its dull, you twit, it’ll hurt more,” she groaned.

A light giggle came from above her, and Harry lifted her gaze to see Luna standing beside
her. Behind her stood an exhausted Ollivander and a bruised goblin, both looked relatively
cared for besides the obvious signs of torture. “It’s good to see you haven’t changed, Harry,”
Luna smiled dreamily down at her.
“Hi, Luna. You doing alright?”

“Oh yes, Draco has been a very kind to me.”

Harry’s brow furrowed before she took note of Luna. Despite having been in this dungeon for
possibly weeks, she looked relatively clean and there was no hollowness beneath her eyes to
suggest she had been tortured. A smile crept over her face at the realisation.

“That’s very good to hear.” Another ear-bleeding scream came from above them. “That, not
so much.”

“What are we gonna do?” Ron spluttered. “We can’t leave her up there!”

Harry looked around the cellar frantically. “Wasn’t planning to. Alright, Luna, what we
looking at here?”

“It’s completely enchanted. Mr Ollivander’s been here longer than me and he’s tried
everything.”

Harry nodded and began frantically rummaging through her pockets. The Snitch. A couple of
old tissues. She yelped as she nearly cut her hand on the piece of mirror Sirius had gifted her
but as she pulled it out of her pocket, she saw a gleam of bright blue. ‘I know that colour’.
Dumbledore’s eye was gazing at him out of the mirror.

“We’re in the cellar at Malfoy Manor. Help us,” she pleaded to the glass. The eye blinked,
and then it was gone. “Well, that wasn’t helpful.”

The door swung open again and Greyback dragged the goblin by its arm before slamming the
door shut again. Hermione screamed again and Harry fought the urge to call to Voldemort, to
give herself to him willingly in order to spare her. Ron clicked the Deluminator and the lights
in the cellar were restored just before a loud crack echoed throughout.

“Dobby?” Harry asked in disbelief as the house-elf Apparated in front of them.

“Miss Potter,” he beamed. “Dobby has come to rescue you.”

Harry had never felt the urge to kiss a house-elf before in her life, but she did at that precise
moment. House-elves were immune to most magic made by wizards, it was how they could
Apparate throughout Hogwarts unseen and how Kreacher had returned to Grimmauld Place
from the cave.

“Right, Dobby,” she said with a clap of her hands. “I want you to take Luna and Mr
Ollivander to-”

“-Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth,” Ron interjected. He glanced at Harry and
grinned, “Trust me.”

Harry shrugged. “And then come straight back. That alright, Dobby?”

“Yes, miss. Anything for you, Harry Potter.”

Dobby then vanished with Ollivander and Luna in tow, leaving Harry and Ron to figure out a
way out of the cellar. The sound of Dobby leaving must have resonated upstairs though as
Wormtail appeared at the door. Without a second thought, the pair tackled the former
Marauder to the floor. Ron seized his wand whilst Harry slapped a hand over his mouth, just
as Wormtail’s silver hand gripped tightly around Harry’s neck.

“You’d really kill me,” she wheezed around his metal fingers. “I spared your life. You owe
me, Wormtail!”

The silver fingers slackened, and Harry managed to extract herself from his grasp. Wormtail
looked up at her fearfully, puzzled by his own reaction, before that same hand reached for his
own throat. To Harry’s shock, the silver hand began to strangle Wormtail before their very
eyes. Harry and Ron both tried to pull the hand away from his pudgy neck, but eventually the
man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lay on the floor of the cellar dead.

“Fuck me,” Harry sighed. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

Ron nodded before the pair ran up the stairs and through the house until they came to the
doorway of the drawing room again. Hermione’s screams had ended for the moment, but they
spied her lying prone on the floor. Harry heard the low growl emit from Ron at the sight.
Bellatrix was busy interrogating the goblin, a knife in her hand that cut against the goblin’s
cheek as he insisted that the sword was a fake.

“Bella, please, the girl’s had enough,” Narcissa tried as she looked down at Hermione. “It’s
clearly a fake.”

Bellatrix hissed as she rose to her full height. “Fine. Then I think we can safely summon the
Dark Lord, don’t you?”

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged nervous glances. “Now, Bella, we’re still not certain she is
Harry,” Lucius murmured.

“By the time he gets here, that Stinging Jinx will have healed. We will be certain then,” she
sniffed. She pushed aside her sleeve and touched the tip of her wand to the Dark Mark
pulsating against her skin.

Harry muffled a gasp of pain as her scar felt like it was splitting open as Voldemort answered
the call. He had warned them that he was only to be interrupted for Harry. ‘You had better be
there, Harry, or there will be consequences’, he whispered against her mind.

Bellatrix then gestured to Hermione. “As for the Mudblood, I think we can dispose of her.
Greyback, take her if you want her.”

“Over my dead body!” Ron roared as he barged into the room, disarming Bellatrix instantly
with Wormtail’s wand. Her wand flew out of her hand and into Harry’s who turned it towards
the Malfoys and Greyback.

Their momentary triumph ended though when Bellatrix held her knife to Hermione’s throat,
forcing them to drop their wands. “Draco, pick them up. Oh, look at you. All shiny and new.
He will be most pleased to see you now,” she cackled.

Draco didn’t meet their gazes as he bent to pick up the wands, but she saw the tear that slid
down his cheek at his aunt’s words. Harry clutched at her forehead, sensing Voldemort flying
across a stormy sea. He would soon be close enough to Apparate to them, and then he would
have her in his clutches once again. The thought of his touch was enough to make her gag.
She didn’t think she could bear enduring it under Draco’s gaze though, but knowing
Voldemort, that would be precisely what he would want.

“I think we can tie those two back up again, Cissy. Greyback can take this one,” Bellatrix
smirked. “I’m sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after all you have
done today.”

A screeching sound turned everyone’s attention to the ceiling where Dobby was proceeding
to unscrew the chandelier from its bolts. Even Bellatrix stared in disbelief before it came
crashing down around them. They all dispersed immediately, flung apart from its impact. The
chandelier dropped, splattering the floor with shards of crystal and chains, even managing to
scratch Draco’s face. Taking her chance, Harry sprinted over to where he was attempting to
shield himself from further damage.

“Hogsmede,” she whispered before wrenching the wands out of Draco’s hands. He looked
back at her with a sad smile and a trickle of blood down his forehead.

She scrambled back to Hermione and Ron, managing to grab a hold of Griphook in the
process. She tossed the pair the wands and subdued Greyback with a quick spell before
seizing Dobby’s hand. “Oi, Bellatrix!” Harry sneered. “Send Tom my love.”

With that, the four of them Disapparated from Malfoy Manor and Harry sighed with relief as
she collapsed onto sand. Pebbles and shells scraped against her battered body as she tried to
regain her footing.

“Miss Potter?”

Harry looked over to where Dobby was standing beside her, wrenching his hands nervously.
Smiling despite her exhaustion, she clasped a hand over his bony shoulder and murmured:
“Thank you, Dobby. But seriously, that is the last time you save my life, alright?”

Dobby nodded frantically and Harry managed to laugh at his happiness. Her gaze travelled to
the coastline and she breathed in deeply the sea air, and the smell of freedom.
 A Thing or Two About Loyalty
Chapter Notes

I'm back, guys. I went on a little holiday so was away from my laptop, but here's a new
chapter I managed to scrounge together since I got back.

Seagulls cawed overhead as the waves lapped against the shore when Harry felt his anger
rush through her. Voldemort had arrived at Malfoy Manor, and once again she wasn’t there.
She managed to keep her pain to herself with just a grimace, she passed off from their tumble
with the Snatchers, and urged the others towards Shell Cottage. Harry, on the other hand,
insisted she needed a minute alone and walked further along the dunes.

“Tom, don’t you dare touch the-ah!” she cried as her scar burned against her skin.

“Crucio!”

She blinked and suddenly she could see Malfoy Manor again. Broken crystal crunched
beneath his feet as he took in the scene of the Malfoy family cowering in front of him. “How
many times, Lucius? How many times must you disappoint me?” he tutted, twirling his wand
about in his hand.

“My lord, please-!” Lucius stuttered.

The spell struck Draco instantly and Harry screamed at the sight of him writhing on the
ground in agony as the spell wracked through his body. His parents held onto each other,
tears streaming down their cheeks as they watched their son’s torture. Narcissa buried her
face in Lucius’ shoulder, barely able to watch her only child’s pain.

“Tom, no! Please stop.”

Harry screamed out at the ocean, the tide brushing against her knees as she sunk to the sand.
Through their connection though, she felt the shards of crystal digging into her flesh as she
knelt at his feet. “He didn’t do anything!”

“He allowed you to escape,” Voldemort snarled.

“Then punish me, not them.”

A cruel smirk spread across his lips. “Oh, Harry, my love. Why do you think I’m doing this?”

Draco’s screams mingled with Harry’s own as Voldemort’s wand shot the curse through him
once more. “She’s pleading for your life, boy,” he hissed down at Draco. “But will she give
me what I want to spare you? Will she sacrifice herself for you?”
Weakly, Draco slammed his fist against the wooden floor and attempted to raise his head to
meet his gaze. “She wouldn’t be so stupid,” he wheezed.

Voldemort huffed, “Stupid? I was led to believe she had feelings for you, or am I mistaken?”

“Love has its limits, my lord.”

“Mine isn’t. I’m curious how it is she can fall for such a boy who would give her up so easily.
So unworthy of her power,” he sneered.

Draco coughed before he croaked: “You’re right. I don’t know her like you do, my lord. I
can’t read her mind. I can’t speak Parseltongue. I can’t see those dark parts of her she keeps
hidden. She is above me in so many ways, and I could never treat her as you do.”

Harry wanted to protest, to tell him that she didn’t need him to. She didn’t need someone who
was a reflection of herself. She wanted him to hold her back when she was angry at others, to
order the Quidditch team to stop her from pulling Pansy Parkinson’s hair out. She needed
someone who knew to keep the nightmares at bay, not cause them. Who held her hand when
the crowds and the spotlight became too much, using his rich boy persona to keep the
journalists and politicians away. Who loved her when she was a frightened little girl and he
was an obnoxious little boy. Not whatever nightmare Voldemort was offering.

“You are awfully self-aware for someone so young,” Voldemort drawled. “But tell me, as this
evening has me quite puzzled, to who are you loyal to? Your lover or your lord?”

A trickle of blood fell from his mouth as Draco stared back at them both, his grey eyes boring
into Voldemort’s red ones. “I am and always will be your faithful servant,” he replied coolly.

Somehow, Harry knew that he wasn’t speaking to Voldemort. He was speaking to her and a
fresh wave of tears fell down her cheeks at the realisation.

With a huff, Voldemort finally lowered his wand. “Any more mistakes like this, and I will not
be so lenient,” he said before storming from the room.

Harry felt the connection close and she was back on the beach outside Shell Cottage, her tears
drying in the midday sun as she forced herself to calm down. Suddenly arms wrapped around
her and she blinked to find Hermione and Ron holding her tightly on either side. She let out a
shaky breath and leaned into their touch, thankful that they didn’t say a word.

----

Once Harry’s hands had finally stopped shaking, Hermione and Ron managed to bring her
back to the cottage. As she sat in the cottage’s quaint kitchen, Fleur pressed a warm cup of
tea into her grasp and the teenager sipped at it greedily. It felt like ages since she’d had a
decent cup of tea, and it warmed the cockles of her very soul.

“How are you doing, Harry?”

“Well, Fleur, I’m not gonna lie to you I’ve had better days,” she muttered dryly.
Fleur grimaced, “I gave the goblin some Skele-Gro for his legs. He is on the mend. The
wandmaker is weak but stable.”

“Thank you. I’ll need to speak to them both in a minute.”

Bill frowned, “Are you going to tell us what is going on?”

Harry slurped at her tea and shrugged. “Wasn’t planning to, to be honest.”

“You show up with a battered goblin and a wandmaker, and you all look like you’ve been
tortured. I think we deserve a little context here,” he demanded.

With a sigh, Harry ran a hand along her face, pushing her glasses away from her eyes. “You
want context? Sure. My parents’ murderer and the current all-round dictator of the Wizarding
World is hunting me down so he can either kill me or force me to be his wife. These two are
helping me live out my fugitive days running from his minions. Everyone else we picked up
in my ex-boyfriend’s dungeon, who I just watched get tortured for letting me get away. Is that
enough context for you?”

Bill blinked. “Well, I can see why you didn’t tell Mum.” He then reluctantly gestured to the
stairs and they followed him up to where Griphook was resting.

----

“I need to break into Gringotts, and you are going to help me,” Harry announced in the small
bedroom.

Ron and Hermione’s faces fell in disbelief. “What?!”

Griphook barely blinked though at her statement merely shifted in his seat. She imagined he
had been asked this question many a time over the years. “It is impossible.”

A sly grin crept across her lips, “It’s been done before, remember? The day we met seven
years ago.”

“The vault in question was empty at the time,” snapped the goblin. “Its protection was
minimal.”

“And what of the protection awarded to Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault? She seemed to be under
the impression that the sword of Gryffindor should be in it. Then how come it appeared to us
in a time of need?”

The goblin wrang his gnarled hands together in thought. “The one in Madame Lestrange’s
vault is a fake, a good enough one that only goblins could tell the difference. It was recently
replaced this summer by an acquaintance of Madame Lestrange oddly enough.”

“You didn’t tell Bellatrix this.”

“She didn’t ask the right questions,” he sniffed.

Harry pursed her lips. “Who was this acquaintance?”

“A Hogwarts professor. As I understand it, he’s now headmaster.”

‘For fucks’ sake’, Harry thought with a groan. “Is there anything else in Madame Lestrange’s
vault that was recently replaced or installed?”

“There are more than a few curious things in the vault at Gringotts,” the goblin replied
cryptically. “I will help you, Miss Potter, but not for free.”

“Something tells me you won’t be so easily bought with gold,” Harry countered with
narrowed eyes.

“No, I wand the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor.”

Harry’s jaw tightened. “Why?”

“The sword is goblin-made. A master blade made by my race. It belongs with my people.”

“It’s not exactly ours to give you. It belongs to Hogwarts if anything,” she muttered.

“The sword is the price for my assistance. Take it or leave it,” he snapped.

Harry nodded solemnly. “Thank you for your time. We will think on your offer and leave you
to rest,” she replied curtly and ushered the others out of the room.

Hermione rounded on Harry instantly. “You think there’s a Horcrux in her vault?”

“Would explain why she was so terrified at the thought of us being in it. It certainly wouldn’t
be the first time that he’s given one to a follower and not told them what it is. Gringotts is one
of the safest places in the Wizarding World, there’s no way he wouldn’t take advantage of
that.”

“But it’s been broken into before,” Ron countered.

“You heard Griphook. Empty vaults have minimal protection.” Her gaze travelled down the
landing to where Ollivander was resting. “Come on, I need to check something.”

Harry’s demeanour was different as she entered the room where Ollivander lay on a twin bed.
He had spent almost two years in the Malfoy’s dungeon, enduring endless torture and
questioning from Voldemort, and his body showed it. There was an almost yellow tinge to his
skin from lack of sunlight, and his silver eyes seemed vast in their sunken sockets.

“Mr Ollivander, I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said softly as she sat at the edge of the bed.

“Harry, my dear girl,” he smiled weakly. “How can this old man help his saviour?”

“I need some help, sir. Can you identify these wands for me? We need to know if they’re safe
to use.”
Harry then handed Ollivander the wands she had collected from Malfoy Manor, and the old
wandmaker’s hands raked over each one as if memorising each groove.

“Walnut. Dragon heartstring. Twelve and a quarter inches. This belonged to Bellatrix
Lestrange.” He handed it back to her then picked up another. “Hawthorn. Unicorn hair. Ten
inches. Reasonably pliant. This was the wand of Draco Malfoy.”

“Was? Is it not still?”

Ollivander raised the wand to his ear as if trying to gain some secret from it. “Perhaps not, if
you won it from him. I sense its allegiance has changed,” he murmured as he handed the
wand back to Harry.”

Harry handled the wand carefully as she rested it in her lap. “You talk of wands as if they
have feelings, sir. Like they can think for themselves.”

“The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Potter,” he smiled as he echoed the same words he had
told her that day seven years ago. “That much has always been clear to those of us who have
studied wandlore.”

Harry nodded. “But a wizard can use a wand that hasn’t chosen them though?”

“Oh, yes, you should be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best
results, however, must always come through the bond between wizards and wand. If you best
your opponent though, the conquered wand will have bent its will to its new master.”

“I don’t want to bring up unpleasant memories for you, sir, but You-Know-Who asked you
about the Elder Wand, didn’t he? He’s been looking for it all year, right?”

Ollivander nodded with a grimace. “It was a rumour. I think Gregorovitch started it himself.
You can see how it would be good for business and all. There’s been accounts of it, of course,
over the years. It has a bloody history, but that might due to its desirable nature amongst the
unsavoury of wizards overtime. Naturally, the Dark Lord desires such an object.”

“And wands will bend to the will of a new master if the old one is defeated?”

“That is the general understanding of wand lore, yes,” Ollivander croaked.

Harry thought back to a pair of kind twinkling blue eyes and a wand she had seen duel
Voldemort and hold back Inferi. Power she had never seen before by any other wizard. “I
know where it is,” she sighed.

Ron and Hermione shared a look. “Well, where is it?”

“The Elder Wand is at Hogwarts, which is where it has been since 1945 when Dumbledore
duelled Grindelwald and defeated him. Right now, its buried with Dumbledore,” she replied
with downcast eyes.

----
The island hadn’t been touched since the funeral. The white tomb lay undisturbed as
Voldemort approached it, opening it with a simple spell that pulled the white marble blocks
apart to reveal its occupant. He hadn’t seen the old man that night, though he had been
assured that the Headmaster had fallen from the Astronomy Tower seconds after his death.
He had longed to see the old man’s head smashed against the cobbles of the courtyards of
Hogwarts, his body broken from the fall and his limbs askew. Alas, he knew better than to
dare enter Hogwarts whilst the Headmaster still lived. Not when it had been such a simple
mission for his people. An assassination and a retrieval. Yet somehow, they had managed to
fail even that, mostly due to the efforts of Dumbledore’s pesky Order of the Phoenix stopping
his people from getting anywhere near the Slytherin dormitories. Naturally, a part of him still
wondered if Draco had tipped off the Order somehow to protect Harry, or made enough noise
in letting the Death Eaters in to alert them to their location. It didn’t matter now of course, he
thought, as the lid of the tomb lifted away to reveal Albus Dumbledore’s corpse. Preserved,
of course, as if the old man was merely sleeping as Voldemort leaned over to almost be a
hair’s breath away from his face.

“You were hiding it in plain sight, weren’t you? I should have known you wouldn’t allow
anyone else to wield it,” he hissed.

He pried the wand that he had disregarded over the years, watched conjure in class or firing
spells at him during their one and only duel, from where it rested between Dumbledore’s
hands. Triumphantly, he lifted it into the air and set out a flash of white light that crackled
through the sky like lightning, illuminating the lake as he laughed manically.

----

Harry’s grip on the small kitchen table tightened as the sparks from the wand flashed before
her eyes. “He’s got it. He’s got the Elder Wand.”
Hermione and Ron looked up from their mugs to stare at her. “Well…shit,” Ron said.
 All That Glitters Isn't Gold
Chapter Notes

The Gringotts chapter is finally here! I'm reluctantly writing the last few chapters as I
don't want this fic to end. Till then, enjoy!

Strangely enough, Harry wasn’t too guilt-ridden over breaking and entering into a bank. She
blamed it on a seven-year stretch of breaking school rules and underaged magic twice, with
very little repercussions. Ron and Hermione still looked unconvinced this was the right thing,
but Harry knew Voldemort and Gringotts was their safest bet at finding the next Horcrux. The
broken locket still sat in her pocket, and occasionally she found herself brushing her thumb
over the engraved snake on the front as she reminded herself of why she was doing this. She
was doing just that as her mind flickered to the map Griphook had made them for, when there
was a knock on the front door.

Everyone in the cottage almost jumped out of their skin at the sound, and Bill jumped to his
feet instantly. “Who is it?” he demanded.

“It is I, Remus John Lupin,” the voice replied and Harry’s heart stuttered. Was this good news
or bad news that had brought Lupin to Shell Cottage? “Werewolf and husband to
Nymphadora Tonks. You gave me the address in case of emergencies.”

Bill ran to the door and wrenched it open, allowing the white-faced werewolf into the cottage.
His face then broke out into a look of pure joy as he cried: “It’s a boy! We’ve named him
Ted, after Dora’s father!”

“Tonks had the baby!” Hermione shrieked.

Harry’s brain quickly reminded her that Lupin and Tonks had mentioned they were expecting
the night she had been brought to the Burrow. Yet because of everything that had been going
on, she had barely been able to comprehend what they were saying. ‘Has it really been nine
months already?’ she thought.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Lupin pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her forehead.
“You’ll be godmother?” he asked softly as he released her.

“M-me?” she stammered.

“Of course, you. Dora quite agrees there’s no one better.”

“I-yeah. Of course, I will,” she replied and hugged him again.

The notion was a strange one, even as she buried her face in his chest, breathing in the
comforting smell of his fabric softener and parchment. Images flitted through her head of
buying the boy his first broom as Sirius had done for her, and wishing him luck on the
platform at King’s Cross Station. Congratulations and reassurances of Tonk’s wellbeing were
exchanged throughout the cottage before goblets were pressed into everyone’s hands.

“To Teddy Remus Lupin,” Lupin cried.

Harry beamed as she raised her own goblet. The wine was much needed after what she’d
been dealing with. She helped that it would lull her to sleep quick enough before the
nightmares had chance to invade her subconscious. As Lupin tugged his cloak back on,
insisting he needed to return to his wife and child, she hugged him tightly again.

“I am so teaching your kid how to fly a hippogriff,” she chuckled as she pulled away.

Lupin grimaced, but managed to smile fondly at her before disappearing into the night. With
a buzz accumulated from wine on an empty stomach and undiagnosed problems, she became
determine to be the most badass godmother ever.

----

They only had enough Polyjuice Potion for one. Hermione had somehow to get a hold of one
of Bellatrix’s hairs during her unfortunate time spent with the older witch at Malfoy Manor.
Yet as they left Shell Cottage, it was Harry who pocketed her glasses now that Bellatrix’s
eyesight was much better than her own.

“This is bloody weird,” Ron said as he took in her new appearance.

Hermione pursed her lips. “I still would have preferred it if you’d stayed under the Cloak. It
could run out at any time.”

“Hermione, I love you and all but out of the two of us, only I can pull of deranged rich
bitch,” she muttered dryly as she curtsied to them all.

Ron shrugged. “It’s true.”

Hermione sighed before turning her attention to Ron, transfiguring his face to create a
completely new identity. They were relying on Harry’s stellar acting and Bellatrix’
malevolent aura to protect him as well.

“There. How does he look?”

Harry glanced at the now heavily bearded Ron and shrugged. “Well, he’s not my type but
he’ll do. Shall we?”

With that, the four of them Apparated away, leaving the tranquil peace of the beach for the
grim skies of London.

--
It was surprisingly easy to play the role of Bellatrix Lestrange. The key, Harry learned, was to
treat everybody who wasn’t Voldemort like scum. The dress helped as well, she considered. It
was naturally black, tight-fitting and with a plunging neckline that showed just a hint of her
breasts. She walked with her head held high and she noted the way that passers-by seemed to
hurry to get out of her path as they walked along the cobblestones towards Gringotts. Behind
her, Ron tried his best to look intimidating at her side whilst Hermione and Griphook hid
under the Invisibility Cloak.

As they came to stand in front of the white marble steps of Gringotts, Harry looked up at the
bank and took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

----

Harry began to debate over her own morality as she forced the head goblin to take them down
into the bowels of the vaults to where Bellatrix’s vault was hidden. Her heart had beat like a
hummingbird as they managed to get through the first obstacle of the goblins on the bank
floor. Under the Imperius Curse, the goblin Bogrod was delighted to escort Bellatrix and her
companion to her vault and led them onto a cart Harry vaguely recalled using her first visit
there. With a jerk, the cart moved off at a speed that Harry assumed was similar to a
rollercoaster, turning and twisting through the labyrinth of tunnels and vault doors that was
Gringotts.

Suddenly, a waterfall appeared in front of them, water pounding over the track but Griphook
was unable to make the cart break and they were doused with water. The cart then stopped on
its own accord before flipping over and throwing them down into the chasm below. Hermione
shrieked something as they fell and they landed painlessly onto the ground.

“Cushioning Charm,” she explained between large gulps of air.

Harry dusted herself, only to realise that her hair was much shorter again and her eyesight
just about made out the others in the dim lighting. Pulling out her glasses, she turned to the
goblin. “What was that?”

Griphook sighed, “The Thief’s Downfall. It washes away all enchantments. They know there
are imposters in Gringotts.”

After the Imperius Curse was quickly replenished on the other goblin, the group continued
walking under Griphook’s leadership. A low growl vibrated off the walls and Harry cast a
worried glance back at Ron. She had an annoying feeling she knew what that was. As they
turned the corner, she realised she was right as her sight fell on a gigantic dragon tethered to
the ground in front of them. The beast’s scales had turned pale and flaky during its
incarceration, with both of its legs rubbed raw from the chains binding its feet. A twinge of
sympathy reverberated through Harry at the sight. The only chained dragons she had seen
were during the Triwizard Tournament, and even then, they had been allowed to be outside.
What she saw now was cruelty, plain and simple.

“It’s been trained to expect pain whenever it hears this noise,” Griphook explained as he
shook a strange instrument the other goblin had brought with him.
Harry tried her best to conceal her disgust as the beast whined fearfully, backing up into the
far corner as they made their way towards the Lestrange vault. They forced the older goblin
to place his hand against the door, and the door melted away to reveal a cave brimming with
gold and silver.

“Is it in here, Harry?” Ron asked warily as he looked around the piles of treasure.

Harry nodded, her gaze sweeping along the piles of gold and silver, and her ears picking up
the familiar hissing of a Horcrux. She heard his voice, calling her from it until eventually her
eyes landed on the golden cup with the badger emblem high up on a shelf above them.
Behind her, Hermione bumped into a cup which fell to the floor and quickly began to
multiply around her feet. In shock, Ron knocked something else over and soon the room
began to fill with multiples of the treasure.

“They’ve added the Gemini curse. Everything you touch will multiply,” Griphook explained
over the sound of clanging metal.

“It’s up there. Give me the sword,” Harry cried and swiftly caught it when Hermione threw it
over to her.

Harry then launched herself forwards, climbing up as far as she could despite the multiplying
treasure around her feet and thrust the sword through the handle of Hufflepuff’s cup. Behind
her, she heard Hermione and Ron, and the two goblins struggle to keep their heads above the
rising tide of treasure.

“Fuck this shit!” she snarled before she managed to throw herself and the sword backwards.

She fell onto the surface of the swelling treasure and laughed in delight as she saw the cup
dangling from the end of the sword still. A flicker of movement in front of her caught her eye
and she swallowed thickly as she saw him. Through the sea of cups, he strode towards her,
his mouth set in a firm line as if he was preparing to reprimand her. The long-haired assistant
at Borgin and Burke’s dressed in a cheap suit, the very one she had seen charm his way into
Hepzibah Smith’s home.

“Such a beautiful thief you make, my love. First you steal my heart and now my soul,” he
chuckled darkly.

In her haste to escape him, she pocketed the cup and attempted to crawl forwards with the
sword only for it to fall from her hand, clattering in front of Griphook. Griphook held the
sword tentatively in his gnarled hand and then looked up from the sword to the trio. It was
then that Harry realised that the goblin had never intention of keeping his word, because he
didn’t believe Harry would keep hers.

“We had a deal,” she snarled.

“I never promised to get you out.”

Griphook then pushed the other goblin’s hand back onto the door and the door burst open,
sending a tidal wave of treasure through the door along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. With
a growl of frustration, Harry forced herself back onto her feet and darted after the goblins.
She heard Voldemort shout her name from within the vault, but he did not follow her.

“Thieves! Help! Thieves!”

Not only was there a dragon before them, but a gathering of goblins had appeared as well.
Griphook ran into their ranks, waving the sword about like a lunatic as he did so. Harry
considered running him through with it when she got her hands on him, but was quickly
distracted by having to send Stunning Spells at the advancing goblins. She glanced between
the dragon that was no longer cowering in the corner, and the angered goblins.

“Any ideas?!” Hermione shouted.

“Just one. You’re gonna hate it,” she replied before sprinting towards the blind dragon.

The tethered dragon roared as several wizard guards came running around the corner. The
goblins cowered as it blew fire over their heads and the wizards backed up, perhaps having
forgot about this particular security measure. Harry, however, used the beast’s distraction to
her advantage and climbed up its hind leg in order to pull herself onto its back.

“Are you insane?!” Hermione cried.

“Probably, now climb on!”

Stretching out an arm, she hoisted Hermione up onto the dragon whilst Ron managed to pull
himself up. Then pointing her wand at the dragon’s feet, she flicked her wand the chains fell
to the ground. With a roar, the beast then expanded its wings and soured up towards the
single source of natural light. Harry held on tightly as she listened to Hermione shout spells
to help the dragon carve its way upwards towards the fresher air. At some point, the beast
must have smelt the outside and its own impending freedom and forced its way through the
bank floor. Goblins and wizards shrieked as the dragon broke through, snarling and breathing
fire until it reared its head upwards once more and crashed through the roof of Gringotts.
Shards of glass and rock fell off of them as it then launched itself into the sky. As the dragon
soared over London, Harry managed to release a manic laugh, thrilled that they had once
again managed the impossible.

----

Fools. Everyone around him was incompetent it seemed. It was mistake after mistake, and
each time Harry was a hundred miles away smirking at his frustration. Except this time, the
goblins of Gringotts had allowed the unthinkable.

“Tell me. What did they take?!”

“A-a s-small golden c-cup, m-my lord.”

The scream that erupted from him was not one he recognised. One of pure unbridled rage as
he realised what had happened. It was impossible. There was no way she could know about
that.
Green light erupted from the Elder Wand as he slashed it through the air, scattering bodies of
goblins and wizards alike across the room. Bellatrix and Lucius ran for the door, pushing the
others back in their fear. He saw them all in his mind’s eye, all of his treasures. No one knew
about them. He had made sure of that. He had broached the topic once to Slughorn, all those
years ago, but the old man had never dreamed he would really use the information. Slughorn
had been particularly blind to him, unlike Dumbledore. Dumbledore. Was it possible that the
old headmaster had figured it all out?

‘No’, he thought. Nobody knew he was related to the Gaunts and would go looking at the
shack. Nobody could get through the protections of the cave. As for the one at Hogwarts, he
alone had extracted its secrets and he knew that nobody else could possibly know its location.
Eventually, he lowered his wand and panted heavily, surrounded by corpses of those who had
failed him.

Though he assured himself that it was absurd that the other treasures had been found, a part
of him wanted to double their protection. The cave was secure enough, the shack
considerably less so, and Nagini would never leave his side again. That left only Hogwarts to
consider. Harry wouldn’t risk being caught when Snape was headmaster, and the school
staffed by his other followers. But then again, she had always had a reckless personality.

He raised his head and found himself looking at himself in a mirror. This was the price had
paid for his immortality. For his power. He would endeavour to use a glamour once Harry
was finally captured, knowing that she preferred looking at his younger self. He considered
for a moment, that if anyone were to find them, it would be Harry. Who else could possibly
understand him like she could?

“You know, don’t you, Harry?” he asked his reflection.

The visage of Harry that appeared in the mirror merely smirked before disappearing again.
 The Power of Love
Chapter Notes

I'm actually impressed with myself how quick I managed to get this chapter done. Enjoy
the return to Hogsmeade for the trio!

An eagle spread out against a field of blue flashed through Harry’s mind. A woman’s face. A
brilliant tiara atop her head, glittering with diamonds and a sapphire in the centre. It reminded
Harry of the kind of things medieval princesses wore in fantasy films. Then she opened her
eyes, her body still trying to warm up around the fire they had built after jumping from the
dragon into a lake. Her mind tried to make sense of her vision, and she thought back to the
strange sculpture in the Lovegood house. Rowena Ravenclaw. It made perfect sense if he had
made two Hogwarts artifacts into Horcruxes, that he would somehow find a third. She
thought back to the sword brandished about by Griphook. It was a shame they no longer had
the sword, or the cup would have been destroyed as they warmed up by the fire, rather than
sat across from her on a rock.

“He knows,” she said calmly. “He knows we’re looking for Horcruxes.”

“Harry,” Hermione scolded. “You’re not supposed to let him in.”

Harry frowned, “It’s not exactly easy, you know? Anyway, I’ve figured out where the next
Horcrux is. It’s at Hogwarts.”

Without a second thought, she began collecting her things together whilst the others
spluttered behind her. “We can’t go to Hogwarts! How the hell are we going to get in?!”

Tying her laces, Harry huffed: “We’ll go to Hogsmede. Once there, we can use the tunnels.”

“But, mate, we don’t even have the map.”

Harry paused. “No, but we have an Invisibility Cloak. And to quote McGonagall, a hell of a
lot of ‘sheer dumb luck’. So, you coming?”

With a shared look between them, Hermione and Ron doused the fire and grabbed Harry’s
hand. Smirking, she pulled them all under the cloak and the trio Apparated onto the snowy
lanes of Hogsmede. In the darkness, it was almost tranquil until a loud scream pierced
through the air like an alarm, alerting the Death Eaters within the Three Broomsticks to an
intruder’s presence.

“Search everywhere!”

“We know you’re here, Potter!”

Hermione tugged on Harry’s sleeve and whispered, “Harry, please. It’s too dangerous. Let’s
leave.”

‘Tom, you fucker’, she inwardly cursed as they tried to evade the Death Eaters running
though the village and stay under the cloak. They turned a corner and a door creaked open.
“In here, Potter,” a gruff voice said.

Harry obeyed without hesitation, pulling the other two inside. “Keep the cloak on and stay
quiet,” their saviour muttered before heading out into the street.

For a moment, she had no idea where they were until her eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight
and she caught sight of the grubby bar of the Hog’s Head. The voice she vaguely recalled
belonged to the pub’s barman who had served them that time in Fifth Year, eyeing them with
a small frown the entire time.

“If I want to put my cat out, I will, and be damned to your curfew!” the man bellowed.

“You set off the alarm?”

“So what if I did? You gonna throw me and my cat into Azkaban now? Go right ahead, but I
just hope you haven’t summoned the bugger. He won’t like getting called here for an old man
and his cat, will he?”

“Alright, we made a mistake. Break curfew again and we won’t be so lenient.”

Hermione sighed in relief beside Harry and the trio flung off the cloak, bundling it into
Hermione’s charmed bag once more. Harry’s attention turned then to the welcoming light of
the backroom of the pub and led the others inside. It was a small room, barely furnished save
for a large armchair and coffee table, fireplace and one picture. On the wall hung a portrait of
a blonde girl, no more than twelve dressed in a pale blue dress and pinafore. Her face had the
same sort of dreamy expression that Luna often had, and her eyes were a familiar twinkling
blue. Harry had a sneaking suspicion she knew who it was of, the only photograph or portrait
in the entire room.

“Hello, Ariana,” she murmured softly. The girl smiled warmly back at her.

The door to the Hog’s Head slammed behind the barman as he appeared before them with a
scowl on his hardened face. “What the devil are you three playing at coming here? Bloody
fools, trying to get yourself killed.”

“You’re Aberforth,” Harry said softly. The old man neither confirmed nor denied it, but she
knew those eyes. “You sent Dobby.”

The barman nodded as he came further into the room, and looked around for the elf.
“Thought he’d be with you. Where’d you leave him?”

“He’s back at Hogwarts. It’s safer when he’s not trying to protect me all the time.”

“For him?”
“For me, actually. Nearly killed me with a Bludger once,” she muttered dryly.

The barman nodded, as if unfazed by the news. Perhaps Dumbledore had told him about it.
She glanced around the backroom of the Hog’s Head and wondered how it was that one
brother could become a celebrated wizard and the other, the proprietor of a grubby pub.
Regardless, Aberforth quickly prepared drinks and threw a couple of biscuits onto a plate for
the three of them.

“Have you heard anything from the others? The Order,” Hermione asked before taking a bite
of a digestive.

“The Order’s finished,” he scoffed. “You-Know-Who has won and anyone who says
otherwise is kidding themselves.”

“We need to get into Hogwarts, tonight. Dumbledore gave us a job to do.”

“Did he now? Nice job, eh?” he asked mockingly. “That’s not a job my brother’s given you.
It’s a suicide mission. You should go home-!”

“I can’t!”

“It’s not safe for you here, Harry. Not anymore. He wants you too badly. Best to go abroad,
into hiding and save yourself. Save these two as well while you’re at it. They’ll only end up
suffering his wrath for helping you if they stay.”

“I can’t,” she replied simply.

“Trust me, whatever my brother said, it’s not worth it. Every time Albus wanted something,
people had a habit of getting hurt in the process. Didn’t matter what side they were on. Didn’t
matter if they had nothing to do with it in the first place.”

His gaze travelled to the portrait above the mantlepiece. “Wrong time, wrong place.”

“She’s your sister Ariana, isn’t she?”

Aberforth sniffed, “You been reading that Skeeter filth too? She could never have known the
truth about Ariana. Nobody knew.”

“What happened to her?” Hermione asked softly.

Harry listened then to Aberforth explain it all. the true story of the Dumbledore family, and
suddenly it all made sense. Her gaze went to the smiling Ariana and wondered at what she
must have endured to break her so. Magic bound into a body whose mind was not sound. She
could only imagine the destruction it caused, remembering how her own outbursts had
resulted in broken glass at least and inflated aunts at worst. Her mind cast back to that night
in the Astronomy Tower when Dumbledore had pulled her back from the ledge, promising he
understood her desire to end it. Understand her guilt and grief better than anyone.

“And then Albus was free, wasn’t he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the
greatest wizard of the-”
“He was never free,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “The night your brother died he
drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming at someone who wasn’t
there. ‘Don’t hurt them. Take me instead’. He thought he was back there with you that night.
He was seeing the people he loved dying in front of him. I know he was.”

Aberforth regarded her coolly. “How can you be sure that my brother wasn’t more interested
in the greater good than you? If he loved you so much, then why did he leave you like this? A
vague mission with no instructions as to where to start. Nothing but blind faith to go on. Face
it, Potter. My brother never loved anyone but himself,” he snapped. “Least of all Ariana.”
It was then that Harry saw red, and cried: “Bullshit! I am sick to death of people saying that
to me. Lecturing me about whether or not I knew Dumbledore well enough to follow him. I
don’t care if he fucked Grindelwald once upon a homophobic time. I don’t care if he didn’t
give me his life’s history. I don’t care that he wasn’t as perfect as I thought he was, because
guess what? Neither am I. I’m stubborn, manipulative Chosen One with a serious problem
with authority, and I’m in love with a Death Eater.”

The barman blinked in confusion. “Come again?”

“He was conscripted,” she replied hotly. “Look, I don’t know what went on between you and
your brother, but I do know that sometimes you have to put that shit behind you to fight for
the greater good. That fighting for love is stronger than hate. This is war for fucks’ sake!”

“You’re seventeen, lass!”

“So what? I was a baby during the last war, that didn’t stop anything. And I’m gonna keep
fighting, even if you’ve given up-!”

“Who said I’ve given up?” he growled.

“You just did. ‘The Order is finished. You-Know-Who has won’.” She paused to wet her lips.
“Look, your brother figured out how to end this and he passed that knowledge to me. Now,
I’m gonna keep fighting till this shit ends. Don’t think I don’t know how this might end for
me with him. He isn’t shy in his desires for me,” she finished softly with tears in her eyes.

Aberforth seemed to contemplate her words before approaching Ariana. “You know what to
do.”

She smiled and walked away, not as most portraits did out of the side of their frames but
down what seemed to be a long tunnel behind her. they all watched as her small figure was
swallowed up by the darkness.

“What the-?” Ron began.

“There’s only one way into that castle now. Snape’s blocked off every exit. Dementors
around the boundary walls. Never seen the place so heavily guarded, not even when Sirius
broke out.”

“Dumbledore wouldn’t let the Dementors onto the grounds,” she murmured.
“Aye. Like I said, this family has its fill of Azkaban and its guards,” he grunted before
returning to his chair.

Then suddenly, two figures appeared in the tunnel. Harry tensed at the sight, unsure if it was
friend or foe coming towards them but Aberforth seemed unfazed by it. Then as the figures
came near enough, the portrait swung forward, revealing a tunnel and a lone person holding
the door open. Despite the overgrown fringe, battered robes and face, Harry instantly
recognised him as Neville Longbottom.

“Hello, Harry!” he beamed.

“Neville? What happened to you?”

Neville waved off her concern. “This is nothing. You should see Seamus. Hey, Ab, we’ve got
a couple more coming through tonight. They’re on their way.”

Aberforth rolled his eyes, “You do know there’s a curfew and a Caterwauling Charm on the
whole village, Longbottom?”

“That’s why they’ll be Apparating straight into the bar. Just send them along when they
arrive. Cheers.”

He then helped the Ron and Hermione up into the tunnel behind the portrait but Harry
hesitated and turned back to Aberforth. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.”

She then hoisted herself up into the tunnel and Neville shut the door behind them before
Aberforth could grumble any further.

“How long’s this been here? It’s not on the Map, is it, Harry?” Ron asked as they began to
walk through the tunnel.

“Nope. It’s new. The seven secret passageways were sealed off at the beginning of the year.
This is the only way in or out, all thanks to Aberforth. Anyway, it’s the Carrows you need to
watch out for, not Snape. They specialise in discipline,” he said, gesturing to his face.

“They did that to you?”

Neville shrugged, seemingly unbothered by it. “It’s not so bad. They had us practicing the
Cruciartus Curse on people with detention. I refused. They’re reluctant to spill pure blood so
I got off easy. It’s those on the outside that have it worse.”

Harry pursed her lips. “The others are ok though, right?”

He glanced back at Harry and smiled sadly, “Hogwarts has changed.”

----

They eventually came to a door that looked like the back of Ariana’s portrait. Neville pushed
it open with a wide grin, revealing a large room that had been assembled like a makeshift
cabin. Hammocks and tapestries hung around the room, and students from every house but
Slytherin were scattered in between bulging bookcases.
Neville whistled loudly and shouted, “Look who I’ve brought back.”

The room then erupted into shouts of their names as Neville stepped out into the room to
reveal Harry, staring dumbstruck at what she saw. Familiar faces of Cho Chang, Dean
Thomas,
Hands were shaken, hair was ruffled and she was hugged by so many different people, she
felt as thought she’d just won the Quidditch final. A little dazed, she managed to extract
herself from the crowd as Neville settled them down.

“Blimey, Harry, what took you so long?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah, sorry about that, traffic was terrible,” she muttered dryly. “Where are we exactly?”

“Room of Requirement, of course. Been here at least two weeks. Every time someone new
turns up, more hammocks appear. Even sprouted a pretty good bathroom once the girls turned
up.”

The absence of green and silver worried Harry though. “And the Slytherins?”

“Oh, they’ve got their own thing going on,” Seamus smiled reassuringly. “They don’t really
mouth off or anything like we’ve been doing. But they’ve looked out for us before,
smuggling people in or distracting the Carrows for us. Not all of them, mind you but some.”

A fond smile spread across Harry’s lips, touched at the thought of her fellow Slytherins
helping the others. She didn’t imagine the likes of Crabbe and Goyle to be joining in on the
rebellion, but she knew it was Blaise leading frightened students into the Room.

The portrait door swung open again, and this time Luna beamed back at her from the tunnel
entrance. “Hello, Harry.”

“Luna?! You’re supposed to be at a safe house!”

With a shrug, Luna climbed down onto the stone floor. “Yes, but Neville summoned me like
we did during DA meetings,” she said holding up a fake galleon.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Harry almost didn’t hear Neville’s question: “So, what’s the
plan, Harry?”

Harry looked back at him dumbfounded. “Plan? I don’t even have a pla. Besides, that’s not
what we came here for. We came to find something.”

“You’re gonna leave us here?!” someone whined.

Harry scowled, “It’s not like that. Look, we’ve been looking for a way to kill him all year and
I really don’t want you guys getting hurt because of me-”

Neville placed a hand on her shoulder, his face unusually stern. “Look, mate, everyone in
here has been fighting this whole time. Everyone here is loyal to Dumbledore – loyal to you.
Let us help.”
With a sigh, Harry rubbed her temples and turned back to the crowd: “Alright, troops, there’s
something hidden in the castle, and it may help us to defeat him. It probably belonged to
Rowena Ravenclaw. Any ideas?”

“Well,” Luna said. “There’s her lost diadem.”

Harry snapped her fingers in excitement as she thought back to the woman from her vision.
“That’s it!”

“Can someone explain what a diadem is?” Ron huffed.

“It’s like a tiara,” Cho Chang piped up. “Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical
properties and give the wearer enhanced wisdom. But it’s been lost for centuries.”

Ron turned to Harry in confusion. “What is it with this bloke and jewellery? A locket, a ring,
now a tiara?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe he always wanted to be a Disney princess, how do I know?”

The door swung open again, this time Fred, George and Lee Jordan clambered through the
hole. Harry wondered just how many people Neville had summoned, or indeed how he had
managed to summon them. Perhaps like the Order, Neville had created ways of
communicating with the outside world to let the Order know they were still alive. It was
rather impressive of him, she had to admit.

“Aberforth’s getting ratty,” Fred said with a grin in lieu of greeting. “His bar’s turned into
King’s Cross.”

The twins walked over to Harry and after ruffling Ron’s hair, they ruffled hers. “What’s this
we hear about you three breaking into Gringotts? On a dragon no less,” George teased.

“Nearly gave Mum a heart attack.”

Ron blushed profusely as he grumbled, “Weren’t my idea.”

Harry rolled her eyes, “That’s true. I did jump on the dragon first.”

The murmuring following the new arrivals silenced when Ginny burst into the room, panting
heavily. “Snape knows. He knows Harry was seen in Hogsmeade.”

Everyone turned back to look at Harry who simply cried: “Oh, for fucks’ sake!”
 Children of the Revolution
Chapter Notes

The Battle of Hogwarts begins!

Neville was right: Hogwarts had changed. An eerie aura hung over the castle like a mist,
suffocating all the staff and students without a Dark Mark on their forearms. The students
walked in an almost military style, marching in their separate houses into the Great Hall
which had been cleared of the long tables that usually ran through it. The only piece of
furniture left was the headmaster’s chair, and Harry’s blood curdled when she saw Snape
sitting on it. ‘He has no right’, she thought darkly. ‘He has no right to be on that chair after
what he did’.

“Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour,” he drawled.
“Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmeade. Now, should anyone student or staff, attempt to aid
Miss Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their
transgression.”

Looking around the room, Harry saw the nervous looks of several students but no one looked
her way. They looked terrified of Snape, of the Carrows flanking him, of the threat of
Voldemort coming their way. Harry didn’t blame them. Her anger against them muted
whatever fear she might have had for them.

“Furthermore, any person with knowledge of these events who fails to come forward, will be
treated as equally guilty. Now then, if anyone here has any knowledge of Miss Potter’s
movements this evening, I invite them to step forward now.”

Not a single person stepped forward, keeping their heads bowed, and Harry smiled from
where she stood on the edge of the Gryffindors. She cast a glance over to her fellow
Slytherins whose faces were impassive, just as she had expected them to be. ‘It’s showtime’,
she thought. With a deep breath, she then stood forward into the middle of the Great Hall and
the room gave out a collective gasp of shock. Her head held high, she allowed everyone to
take in her shaggy dark hair and glasses. At the sight of her, Snape rose from his seat
instantly and hesitantly walked towards her.

“It seems despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security
problem, Headmaster,” she snarled.

The doors to the Great Hall opened behind her and the Order of the Phoenix strode in to the
relief of the staff and students. The Weasley’s, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt: adults
who had helped Harry throughout the past six years were now standing behind her, prepared
to defend her against Snape. The thought emboldened her, and she turned back to a stunned
Snape.

“How dare you stand where he stood. Tell them how it happened that night. Tell them how
you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him,” she cried.

Instead of answering her, Snape simply brandished his wand out from his robes. Before Harry
could arm herself though, McGonagall appeared at her side and pushed her out of the way.
Harry noted with glee the way the students pressed themselves further along the walls to get
out of the line of fire the moment they realised McGonagall was prepared to fight him.
Behind them, the Order raised their wands as well but they weren’t needed.

With a hardened face and a look of pure hatred in her eyes, McGonagall cast the first spell
wordlessly at Snape. Flames spouted from her wand, attempting to lasso the headmaster who
evaded them with his Shielding Charm. Again and again, McGonagall cast her spell,
advancing slowly on the man who was retreating back to the dais. Then in a final act, the
headmaster deflected the spells back at the Carrows who were knocked unconscious before
he fled the Great Hall in a cloud of black smoke straight out of the stained-glass window.

“Coward!” she roared after him.

The students erupted into cheers as McGonagall turned to them all, victorious. It was short-
lived victory for Harry though, who heard Voldemort calling to her. His anger pulsed through
her, causing her to stumble from the pain in her scar. The Great Hall vanished around her and
she saw only the torches on the grounds’ boundaries and Nagini wrapped around her, her
eyes set on the castle.

“Potter!”

She blinked and she was back, McGonagall hovering over, her face filled with concern as she
held onto her arm tightly. “Potter, not to say I’m not glad to see you but-”

“Yeah, I always did love a grand entrance. Listen, Professor, I need to find the diadem of
Ravenclaw. It’s somewhere in Hogwarts.”

“The d-diadem of Ravenclaw? Potter, why on earth would you risk coming here for a-”

“I’m working on Dumbledore’s orders,” she clarified. “Daft as it might sound, it’s here in
Hogwarts and I need it in order to destroy Voldemort.”

McGonagall pursed her lips as she considered the weight of Harry’s words. “We can secure
the castle for you, no problem. We teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we
will be able to hold him off long enough for you to find this thing. And if the Dark Lord
really does intend to lay siege upon Hogwarts, then it would be advisable to take as many
people out of the way as possible.”

“I have a way. There’s a passage through to the Hog’s Head. The Death Eaters won’t be
bothered about a couple hundred kids Disapparating out of the Hog’s Head.”
McGonagall nodded then waved her wand over the Carrows’ unconscious forms and bound
them with enchanted silver netting, hoisting them up into the rafters to hang from them like
two ugly, bulging baubles. She then turned to the excited crowd of students and called for
their attention, Harry brimming with pride at her side.

“An evacuation of the school will immediately put into effect. All students will follow their
Prefects through to the Room of Requirement and through the passageway to Hogsmeade.
From there, I entrust the safety of the younger students to the Prefects who will Disapparate
you to safety.”

“What if we want to fight?”

“If you are of age, you may stay to fight. Anyone else, I suggest you follow your Heads of
House and Prefects-”

“Students out of bed! Students out of bed!” Filch cried as he ran into the Great Hall, carrying
Mrs Norris under his arm.

“They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot,” McGonagall snapped. “Now, as
you have decided to grave us with your presence, would you kindly fetch Peeves.”

Filch blushed profusely, “Peeves?”

“Yes, Peeves, you fool. You’ve only been complaining about the man for the past quarter of a
century. Fetch Peeves and the other ghosts at once! We have a castle to defend.”

Filch nodded quickly before leaving the room, muttering under his breath and probably
convinced that McGonagall had lost her mind. Harry allowed herself a laugh as she watched
him run, thankful to be rid of the pesky janitor of Hogwarts. It was a short-lived moment of
joy though, as suddenly she heard her name being whispered through her mind. Harry froze.
She could feel him probing at her mind, and then a voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.
Unnatural and cold, it slithered through the mind of every student like the monster who
wielded it.

“I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I have
great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood tonight.”

Harry watched as students covered their ears, some crying and screaming in fear of where the
voice was coming from.

“Give me Harriet Potter,” Voldemort demanded. “And none shall be harmed. Give me Harriet
Potter and I will leave the school untouched. You have until midnight.”

Then he was gone, and everyone was left staring at Harry in the middle of the Great Hall.
“Go on then,” Pansy cried. “Someone grab her!”

Everyone turned to Slytherin House as they simply stared back in disbelief at Pansy. Before
Harry could react, someone beat her to it. The slap echoed throughout the Great Hall and
Pansy’s cheek was red from where someone’s hand had made contact with it.
Blaise adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and huffed: “Harriet Potter is one of us, Parkinson. Has
always been one of us. She deserves our respect and our unrelenting loyalty. You would do
well to remember that.”

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson. Now I suggest you follow Mr Filch first with the rest of your
house.”

The Slytherins slowly began to filter out of the Great Hall. ‘This isn’t right’, Harry thought
with pursed lips before shouting: “Wait! I know many of you have parents on the other side.
I’d never ask you to fight, and I know how hard this must be for some of you but please. For
the love of Merlin, if you can help us in any shape or form, please help. If you don’t want to
fight, that’s fine: help evacuate the younger years. Keep them safe. But please, don’t do
nothing. Prove to everyone that Slytherins are good people too.”

Blaise clapped a hand down on her shoulder. “You heard the lady. Either find yourself an area
to defend or help me get the little ones out. This is no time for split loyalties.”

The Slytherins nodded and Harry watched in amazement as they began organising
themselves. Prefects hastened the younger students into lines, whilst Daphne and Astoria
Greengrass dragged a protesting Pansy away.

Looking up at the taller man, she sighed, “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

Blaise chuckled, “Now, now, there will be time for endearments later. I will happily evacuate
all remaining students and ensure that no one gets through me.” With a kiss to her forehead,
he began to walk away.

“Blaise? Thank you.”

With a warm smile, he saluted her. “Ma’am.”

Slowly, the students of all four houses filtered out of the hall, leaving only a scarce few
remaining to fight. It would do, Harry reminded herself. Anything was better than nothing.
She listened to Kingsley Shacklebolt bark orders of where the remaining fighters should
place themselves, starting with the towers of the castle. As she started walking out of the
Great Hall, she found Ginny pleading with her mother to be allowed to stay. Harry could
understand her desire to fight, but didn’t really want to get caught between Mrs Weasley and
protecting her children.

“But, Mum-!”

“You’re underaged! I won’t permit it,” she replied hotly.

“But-but, Harry, tell her it’s fine if I stay!”

Harry froze under the intense gazes of the Weasley family. “I think this is more of a family
issue, actually, so if you’ll excuse me…”

Then suddenly, with lopsided glasses and flushed cheeks, Percy Weasley burst into the room.
“Am I too late? I only just found out, so I-I-”
“Percy?!” the Weasley family cried in unison.

“I was such a fool,” he spluttered. “I was an idiot. I was a pompous prat, I was a-a-”

“Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron,” Fred supplied.

Percy swallowed thickly, “Yes, I was.”

“Took you long enough,” Fred laughed as he clapped his hand on Percy’s shoulder.

Mrs Weasley burst into tears before she burst forward, pulling Percy into a tight embrace as
he patted her back. He looked up at his father over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dad.”

Mr Weasley blinked rapidly before he too, pulled his son into a hug. “It’s ok, son. It’s ok.”

As touching as the reunion was, Harry had a diadem to find and destroy. Over the
explanations and apologies, she began to make her way back to the stairs only to be
distracted by the words ‘blow it up’ by Neville.

“You’re actually giving us permission to blow it up?”

“That is correct, Longbottom,” McGonagall replied as they left out the front door of the
castle into the main courtyard. Harry followed behind them, immensely interested by
McGonagall’s plans.

“Brilliant! How we gonna do that?”

A sly smirk spread across the professor’s face. “Why don’t you consult with Mr Finnegan?
As I recall, he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics.”

Grinning madly, Neville and Seamus ran off in the opposite direction. McGonagall then
raised her wand back to the school. “Piertotum locomotor!” she cried.
Harry watched, wide-eyed, as the statues and suits of armour that clung to the very walls of
the castle came to life and slowly marched out the door. “Hogwarts is threatened! Man the
boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!” McGonagall shouted.

A swell of pride welled up inside of Harry, her eyes prickling with tears. This was the power
of Hogwarts. And suddenly, she remembered the words Dumbledore had said all those years
ago. ‘Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it’. In that moment, as the
teachers and Order held their wands aloft to the sky, incanting a spell she couldn’t hear, that
made an invisible barrier around the entire castle, Harry felt his presence.

“Potter? I thought you were on a deadline,” McGonagall said suddenly as she finally noticed
Harry’s presence next to her.

“Minerva McGonagall, you are a bloody marvel,” she grinned before placing a kiss to the
older woman’s cheek.

“Oh! So much like your father,” she scolded lightly.

Harry chuckled before heading back inside the castle, only then to realise that in the exodus,
she had lost Hermione and Ron. “Has anyone seen Ron or Hermione?” she cried.

“Think they said something about a bathroom,” Ginny called back to her.

Harry paled. “Bathroom? You sure they said-?” She paused and with a grunt of frustration,
decided against following after them. ‘I mean, I killed the snake. They should be fine’, she
thought before darting up the stairs to the Ravenclaw dormitories.

----

“Harry! I need to talk to you,” she heard Luna call behind her as she mounted the stairs.

“Not now, Luna. I’m busy. We’ll talk later, ok?”

“Harry Potter! You listen to me right now,” Luna shouted. That, actually made Harry freeze
on the stairs and turn slowly towards Luna. She gestured for her to continue. “Don’t you
remember? Nobody alive knows where Ravenclaw’s diadem is. It’s obvious, isn’t it? We
need to talk to someone who’s dead.”

The realisation dawned on Harry and she grabbed the other girl by the shoulders. “You, Luna
Lovegood, are absolutely brilliant. I swear, all my girls are just bringing it today,” she cried
before hurrying back down the stairs.

Luna chuckled and followed her, leading towards where the ghosts had assembled and
gestured to the Grey Lady. “That’s her. If anyone knows, it’ll be her.”

Harry had naturally seen the Grey Lady, ghost of Ravenclaw Tower, over the years, but had
never talked to her. An ethereal woman with waist-length hair in medieval dress, an almost
proud look repelling against her natural beauty.

“Excuse me? You’re Helena Ravenclaw, right? The Grey Lady?”

The ghost considered her with shrewd eyes. “Are you a friend of Luna’s by any chance?”

“Yes, and she told me you could help me.”

“You seek the diadem?” she scoffed as she began to float away from the other ghosts.
“Generations of students have badgered me-”

“For fucks’ sake, do I look like I care about grades right now? Look, in order to destroy
Voldemort, I need to destroy it. So, what happened to it?”

Harry then listened, listened to an over-shadowed daughter of a powerful witch and her desire
to surpass her mother. She listened to her tale of how she stole the diadem out of pettiness,
and had been killed by the Bloody Baron in his attempt to retrieve her for her ailing mother.
Another tragic tale to add to Hogwarts’ history.

“You told Tom Riddle about it, didn’t you? Years ago, when he was a student here. Because
he was charming, and patient, and he probably promised to destroy it for you. Where did you
tell him it was?”

“Concealed inside a hollow tree in a forest in Albania. A lonely place I thought beyond my
mother’s reach,” she replied softly.

Albania. Harry wouldn’t it past Voldemort to travel to such a place to secure the treasure,
probably even before he started work at Borgin and Burke’s. From there, he turned it into a
Horcrux and then returned it to its true home.

“The night Tom Riddle came here to ask for a job, after he graduated. He came back here,
didn’t he? That’s when he stashed it.” She paused. “You do know where he hid it, don’t
you?”

Helena nodded solemnly before she circled Harry, assessing her again with shrewd eyes. “It’s
strange. You remind me of him…”

Harry winced but gestured for her to continue. “It’s in the place where everything is hidden,”
the ghost replied before disappearing again.

With a groan of realisation, Harry darted off again, Luna hurrying alongside her. “Luna, go
help the others,” she panted. “I’m alright now.”

“Harry, are you sure?”

“Positive. I know exactly where it is now,” she grinned manically.

----

There were times when he could quite happily strangle that girl. This was one of them. He
stood on the other side of the bridge connecting Hogwarts with the outside world, watching
as the barricade came down over the castle. He had been furious to find that his locket was
indeed missing, as was the ring. Harry had found them, and if not destroyed them, then
hoarded them away until she could. He found it hard to be proud at her tenacity. She had
spent the better part of a year trying to destroy him, and yet he still wanted her. There would
be something quite satisfying when he finally had her pinned beneath him, begging him to
spare the lives of her loved ones. And he would indulge her, but not before keeping a few
hostages to keep his bride in line.

“Whatever you do not kill Harry Potter or her friends the Mudblood and the Weasley boy.
The rest, do as you please, I have no use for traitors,” he said coldly.

With a jeer, the Death Eaters raised their wands to the sky and launched spells to attack the
barricade. It would be a long night, for sure, but Voldemort had always been a patient man.
 The Place Where Lost Things Go
Chapter Notes

The Battle of Hogwarts has begun!

The battle had begun. Distantly, Death Eaters attempted to attack the barrier the Order had
erected whilst Harry ran like a madwoman through the abandoned corridors of Hogwarts. It
was annoyingly presumptuous of Tom Riddle to believe he was the only person to find the
Room of Requirement in a school that had been operational for at least a thousand years.
Granted, the Marauders had never found it but they had uncovered all the others, and
documented them down in the Map. Even good students like Dumbledore and McGonagall,
and a majority of Ravenclaw house had never needed the room, and so it had never appeared
to them. It was a secret that perhaps only Voldemort and herself had been able to uncover -
even if she’d had help from Dobby.

Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat suddenly and she felt as though she’d been stabbed,
crumbling to the stone floor from the force of it. She saw Voldemort overlooking the castle
and the way he gasped as yet another Horcrux was destroyed. She saw the flicker of fear in
his eyes and the way he aimed the Elder Wand at the barrier, the magic sparking from it
uncontrollably as it broke through it.

“Alright, Potter, time to get your arse in gear,” she muttered to herself as she forced herself
back onto her feet.

Spells began to hit the castle, making the very foundations tremble and stone and wood began
to crumble from the weight of the spells. She heard a massive explosion in the distance,
followed by screams and Harry wondered if that was Neville and Seamus’ plan finally
enacted. Harry narrowly avoided being crushed under a statue as she came into view of
several others holding their positions as the dark forces began to storm the castle.

“Potter,” Aberforth cried as he appeared in front of her. “I’ve a hundred kids thundering
through my pub.”

“We’re evacuating, and frankly you should be grateful for the footfall,” she panted.

“Yeah, yeah, the whole of Hogsmeade heard the prat. And it never occurred to you to keep a
couple of Slytherin’s hostage?

Harry’s face hardened and she rounded on the older man. “You listen here, billy goats gruff,
in case it’s slipped your notice but I happen to be a Slytherin. The rest of Slytherin House are
either helping to evacuate the others or are helping us to fight, in spite of their parentage. So,
I suggest you put aside your prejudices, get your grizzly backside back out there and fight!”
Aberforth grunted as Harry took off again, trying her best to remember which floor the Room
of Requirement was on. She turned a corner and found Ron and Hermione, both carrying
what looked like mini-tusks that were yellowed and curved in their arms. “Where the bloody
hell have you two been?” she cried.

“Chamber of Secrets!” Hermione grinned as Ron held up a dented Hufflepuff Cup.

“What the- How did you get in?” she frowned.

Ron shrugged. “You talk Parseltongue in your sleep, mate.”

Harry decided to dwell on that another day, and instead focussed on the fact that another
Horcrux was gone. “Genius. Right, well, I’ve found the diadem so, shall we?”

The pair nodded in agreement and the three of them sped off in the direction of the Room of
Requirement. Around them, the battle waged on and Harry tried to tune out the sounds of
screams and explosions. She didn’t want to think about the innocent lives being killed, of the
loved ones she’d have to mourn come morning. She was brought from her thoughts by the
chest she accidentally bumped into, looking up to see the beaming face of Neville looking
down at her. He was now covered in dirt, blood and what smelt like gunpowder, but he didn’t
seem perturbed by it at all.

“You haven’t seen Luna, have you?”

Harry blinked. “Luna?”

“I’m mad for her! I think it’s about time I told her since we’ll both probably be dead by
dawn!” he cried as he then went sprinting off in the opposite direction.

Harry was starting to think her friends were all going mad, declaring their undying love for
each other in the middle of a battle. However, a Death Eater crashed through above them and
she soon distracted by sending the Death Eater into the nearest wall with a flick of her wand.

Rounding the corner, she found Tonks and Ginny hurtling towards her. “Tonks! You’re
supposed to be at your mother’s,” Harry cried. “You have Teddy-!”

“I couldn’t stand leaving Remus alone,” she replied, her eyes filled with fear. “Have you seen
him?”

Running a hand along her face, she huffed: “Upstairs. Astronomy Tower. He’s with
Kingsley.”

Tonks then darted off in the direction of the Tower, her hair changing colour as she went and
Ginny following after her. Harry tried not to think about the repercussions of both Remus and
Tonks being at the battle, of her baby godson she had never met being left alone in the world
if something went wrong. The thought almost broke her heart. Yet she didn’t have time to
wallow in what-ifs, and so she began sprinting back towards where the door to the Room of
Requirement was slowly forming in front of her.
“Wait!” Ron cried as they came to a sudden halt in front of the doors. “What about the house-
elves? We can’t order them to die for us-”

Harry watched in equal parts bewilderment and frustration as Basilisk fangs clattered to the
floor and Hermione flung herself at Ron. Her arms came around his neck and kissed him.
Within seconds, Ron kissed her back, his own collection of fangs dropped and held her
tightly to him.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin. Now is not the time!” Harry cried.

They parted, both flushing in embarrassment as if they had forgotten she was standing there.
“Sorry mate, but it’s now or never, eh?”

Harry glowered at them both before turning back to the Room of Requirement and opened
the doors. “Teenagers,” she growled lowly.

----

The Room of Requirement was jam-packed with piles of spare furniture, a stuffed troll and
the Vanishing Cabinet Draco had repaired last year, as well as various other piles of junk the
made the room into a bizarre labyrinth. The trio split up and began searching for anything
that could be classed as a tiara. Harry’s ears though eventually heard the familiar hissing
sound of Voldemort’s soul and followed it till she found a box under a pile of curtain ties.
Inside, to her relief, sat amongst blue satin was the silver and sapphire encrusted diadem of
Rowena Ravenclaw.

“What brings you here, Potter?”

Harry’s face fell as she slowly turned around to find Draco behind her, flanked by Crabbe and
Goyle. “He sent you to guard it, didn’t he?” she asked sadly.

Draco looked at her forlornly and sighed, “Harry… Just give me back my wand, alright?”

“Whose is that?” she asked, gesturing to the wand he currently had aimed at her.

“My mother’s. It’s powerful, but it doesn’t quite understand me. Know what I mean?”

They simply stared at each other then. It was as if Crabbe and Goyle weren’t present, and
how Harry wished they weren’t. If they weren’t standing in the middle of a war, and instead
they were back in the Slytherin Common Room or Malfoy Manor. Somewhere were they
could just be two seventeen-year-olds in love again, not on opposing sides of a war. The
Chosen One and a young Death Eater.

“Draco, please. This isn’t you,” she said softly. “You’re not like the others. Like Bellatrix.
You’re not evil. I know this. So, please, don’t let him use you like this. Don’t let him pull us
apart more than he already has.”
Draco looked hesitant, but Crabbe stepped in front of him with his wand aimed at her. “We
ain’t got time for this. You’re comin’ with us, Potter,” he sneered. “The Dark Lord will
reward us greatly for handing you over.”

“Voldemort’s idea of a reward is not killing you, Crabbe,” she muttered dryly. “And you’re
more of an idiot than I thought if you actually think I’d ever come quietly.”

Ron and Hermione rounded the corner, and Hermione was quick to start sending spells at the
trio to disarm them. Now wandless, Draco quickly ran out of the line of fire, sending Harry
one last look before disappearing. Crabbe and Goyle though had no issues casting curses
back at them, which resulted in the diadem jumping from Harry’s grasp and into the air. It
then landed on the nearest stack of jumble.

“Make it easy for me, why don’t you?” Harry muttered bitterly.

Ignoring the ongoing duel between her friends and her ex-boyfriends’ lackeys, Harry jumped
onto the nearest pile of junk and began scrabbling up it to find where the diadem had landed.

“You idiots! If you wreck this room, you’ll kill us and bury the diadem!” Draco screeched.

“What’s the matter?” Crabbed huffed. “It’s Potter the Dark Lord wants. Who cares about the
die-dum?”

Spells flew at each other as Harry continued to climb, unhindered by the lights passing by
her. Red, white and green lights narrowly missed her lithe frame as she growled under her
breath and mourned the state of her nails.

“Don’t kill her!” Draco cried desperately. “Don’t you dare kill her!”

“Who cares what you think? I don’t take your orders no more, Malfoy. You an’ your dad are
finished.”

A flash of green light narrowly missed Hermione and with a roar, Ron rushed at the
Slytherins. “That’s my girlfriend, you numpties!” he cried.

“Hermione, don’t just stand there! Help me find it!” Harry snapped down at her friend who
was now smiling dazedly at the corner the boys had ran around.

Hermione quickly followed her up the stack, and Harry made a mental note that if they ever
went to war again, her friends were not allowed to have any romantic moments that could
possibly distract them. She’d have to make a pamphlet or something. Then a familiar figure
appeared perched on the stack as she searched, red eyes looking down at her curiously.

“Fancy bumping into you here,” he chuckled darkly.

“Not helping, Tom,” she growled.

“Why would I help in my own demise?” he scoffed. “I’m certainly in no rush to die, although
you might be.”
With a crow of triumph, she plucked the diadem from where it had fallen in-between the legs
of two conjoined chairs. She pressed a kiss to the sapphire, ignoring the interested look
Voldemort’s visage sent her as she and Hermione jumped down onto the floor. A loud shout
came from the round the corner and Hermione and Harry exchanged a curious look.

“Run!” Ron screamed as he rounded the corner. He grabbed Hermione by the arm and began
running for the exit. “Crabbe’s set the bloody place on fire!”

Harry back and saw flames of abnormal size began to lick around the piles of flammable junk
and spreading throughout the room. She began to sprint after Ron and Hermione, hoping that
Crabbe wasn’t the complete idiot she thought he was and was able to control it. The fire then
transformed into the form of a dragon, flying over the stacks and breathing fire down onto
them.

They turned a corner and found themselves surrounded by fire beasts. Ron quickly seized a
pair of heavy-duty broomsticks from the nearest pile of junk and threw one to Harry.
Mounting the broom, Harry took off and began circling the Room in search of the others, but
Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had vanished from view. The heat of the Room was starting to
become unbearable and she felt her lungs tighten as she inhaled more smoke. Below them,
the cursed fire consumed the contraband of generations, a thousand marks made by students
now long gone from this castle burning away in an instant.

She froze when she heard an blood-curdling scream. “Draco!” she cried. “Draco, where are
you?”

A blonde head caught her attention amongst the stacks. Squinting, she saw Draco at the top
of a stack not yet encased by fire with Goyle next to him, holding each other tightly. Crabbe
was nowhere to be seen.

“Harry, don’t even think about it,” Ron snapped.

Harry glanced over her shoulder at him and roared: “He’s the love of my fucking life!”

“If we die for them, Harry, I’ll kill you,” Ron bellowed as they circled back to the Slytherins.

Harry laughed heartily before she dove down to reach her hand down to clasp Draco’s in
hers. With a strength she didn’t know she had, she managed to pull Draco behind her onto the
broom whilst Hermione pulled Goyle onto hers. Draco wrapped his arms around her tightly,
burying his face into her hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she heard him cry into her shoulder.

In her haste, the diadem slipped out of her grasp suddenly and Harry dove down towards the
flames to grab it. Her gaze flickered and as she grabbed a hold of the lightly scorched metal,
she saw Voldemort’s younger self appear out of nowhere, falling down into the inferno. He
didn’t look scared though as he looked back at her, he seemed almost resigned to his fate.

His red eyes bored into hers and he murmured: “Don’t you forget me, Harry Potter. Don’t
you dare forget me.”
Speechless, she watched as he disappeared beneath the flames and with a shudder, she
swerved the broom and headed back to where the entrance was. Tears pricked her eyes, but
she blamed the smoke for their presence. Through the smoke, the door appeared and burst
open, allowing them through in a cloud of smoke before sealing shut again. The force of it
made the broomsticks tumble to the ground along with their passengers. Draco coughed and
gasped for air beside her, before Harry managed to gain enough air to pull him into a tight
embrace.

“Stay alive, baby. I don’t care what you have to do, but I need you to live,” she whispered
harshly. She pulled back to stare him straight in the eye. “Do you understand?”

Draco nodded. “Same goes for you.”

“Easier said than done in my case. Now get going, I have a world to save,” she sighed
wearily.

Draco didn’t need to be told twice and grabbed Goyle, the pair running down the corridor in a
panic. Harry sighed in relief then looked down at her hand that was still clutching the diadem,
the sapphire was now cracked and oozing a black goo. The fire Crabbe had conjured must
have destroyed it. She barely listened to Hermione call it Fiendfyre, as she felt something
pierce her chest and she knew that Voldemort felt it too.

----

Voldemort stilled. His hand on his chest as he felt the fire burn his soul away from the
diadem. ‘No’, he thought. ‘I only have one Horcrux left’. His gaze travelled from the
destroyed castle to the snake hissing nervously at his feet. Only his loyal Nagini was left now,
and the thought made a tremor of fear run down his spine. He hadn’t felt like this in a very
long time. Vulnerable. Weak. Suddenly he was that little boy in the orphanage watching his
wardrobe set alight under the twinkling blue gaze of Dumbledore.

With laboured breath, he murmured, “Come, Nagini. I need to keep you safe.”

----

Harry clutched at her heart as visions of Nagini and Voldemort swam through her head. “It’s
the snake. She’s the last Horcrux.”

Ron nodded grimly from where Ron and Hermione hovered over her, and placed a hand on
Harry’s shoulder. “Look inside of him, mate. Find where he is and we can find the snake. We
can end this.”

With a shudder, Harry looked. She saw the single lantern swaying above his head, the water
lapping in the darkness and the familiar smell of fresh water. Boats were carefully stored
away along the walls, an eerie chill sweeping around his legs as he gazed up at the castle. The
sounds of the battle were distant, almost muffled, but he wasn’t concerned about that. He had
thought the Room was somewhere only the truly gifted could find, somewhere only he had
found. Like the Chamber of Secrets, he alone had discovered the castle’s true secrets and
exploited them for his own gain. Yet it seemed, he was mistaken.
“My Lord,” a familiar voice croaked. Harry’s heart sank as Voldemort turned and focussed
his attention on Lucius who bore the marks of his punishment for allowing her to escape. He
looked just as broken as he had done at Malfoy Manor. “My Lord… please… my son…”

“If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault,” Voldemort sniffed.

Voldemort truly didn’t care if the Malfoy boy lived or died. The Malfoys had disappointed
him greatly since his return. A shame really, as Lucius and he had been close once. He didn’t
want to hurt them, of course. He would prefer not to spill any magical blood, if possible, but
they needed to prove themselves to him again. If anything, he planned to have them as
Harry’s retainers once he had her in his grasp. She would need familiar faces looking after
her, and he had heard how she would defer to Lucius in certain situations. A rare thing indeed
for Harry. No, he needed the Malfoys or at least he needed their money. Draco Malfoy, on the
other hand, would only serve as a reminder to Harry of her past life. He would have to marry
the boy off quickly once he and Harry were wed, tuck him away in a nice little marriage to a
Pureblood girl for Harry to only see on special occasions. That would make the transition
easier for her.

“Wouldn’t it be more prudent to end the battle and seek her out yourself? Too many have
fallen already.” Lucius asked hesitantly.

Voldemort scoffed, “Don’t pretend to be asking for my benefit, Lucius. You only wish it to
end to discover what has happened to your son. But I assure you, before the night is out,
Harry will come to me.” His fingers stroked over the bumps and nodules of the Elder Wand.
“Bring me Severus.”

“My Lord?”

“I need Severus, go and fetch him,” he snapped.

Frightened, Lucius bowed slightly and left the boathouse. Voldemort sighed as he looked
back up at the castle. The snake curled around his feet, hissing as if to comfort her master
whose thoughts shifted to a certain green-eyed girl.

“He’s in the boathouse,” Harry gasped as the vision ended.

“He’s not even fighting?” Hermione asked, outraged.

Harry rubbed at her temples. “He doesn’t think he needs to. He knows I’m going to come to
him. He knows I’m after the snake.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go,” Ron said and pulled Harry to her feet.
 A Servant To Two Masters
Chapter Notes

Who doesn't want to see a conflicted Harry deal with the Snape revelation? Enjoy!

The castle was in ruins. The main courtyard was filled with piles of stone and rumble as well
as the corpses of the fallen. Giants swung hammers around wildly and Death Eaters flung
spells at the students fighting back. Overhead, she heard the shouts of Oliver Wood who had
apparently been spurred on by the burning of the Quidditch pitch as he led students on
brooms cast spells down on unsuspecting Death Eaters. To her relief, she saw several
Slytherin students fighting back alongside Gryffindors. Daphne managed to block a green
light from hitting McGonagall as Millicent sent a Stunning Spell towards one of the giant
spiders that had emerged from the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid came hurtling towards the spiders, brandishing his pink umbrella. Harry wanted to
shout at him, remind him that Aragog’s children didn’t share his love for Hagrid. They would
kill the students, and he would have to deal with their deaths some other time. Then the
spiders seemed to swarm around the half-giant and carried him away, burying him beneath
their huge bodies. The trio carried on, and a bright light from Hermione’s wand forced
Greyback away from where he had been hovering over Lavender Brown’s body. The
werewolf was sent through a stone wall, and Harry hoped that would be the end of him as
they continued to run towards the castle grounds.

A swarm of Dementors came hurtling down the stone bridge connecting the castle to the rest
of the grounds. Harry almost welcomed the cold feeling of death they brought with them, her
breath turning to wisps of smoke in front of her as they approached. She raised her wand but
couldn’t bring herself to utter the spell. In that moment, she couldn’t think of anything happy
to bring her out of the despair she felt at what was going on around her. Too many lay dead
around her, too many fates were unknown and she couldn’t find it in herself to hold onto the
few pure memories she had left.

Suddenly, a bright light came from behind them and pushed the Dementors away as the light
covered the entire chasm. Harry looked behind her to find Aberforth standing proudly, his
face hardened at the sight of them.

“I told you we don’t deal well with Dementors,” he muttered gruffly.

“Thank you,” she managed to say to him before they were running down the path to the
boathouse below the castle.

----
The water lapped against the foundations of the boathouse as the trio knelt outside the nearest
window, able to get a clear view of Voldemort and Severus Snape. Voldemort raised the Elder
Wand as if to inspect it but his gaze was full of his resentment.

“-you have performed extraordinary magic with this wand, my Lord, in the last few hours
alone,” she heard Snape say.

“No,” Voldemort replied calmly. “No, I am extraordinary but the wand resists me. It hasn’t
revealed the power I was promised.”

Harry wasn’t sure if Snape was able to read him as well as she could, but she could feel the
unbridled fury burning away underneath the façade of calm he presented. Maybe he could
read his lord’s moods and was being silent to try to find the best words to keep him from
exploding into rage. She remembered the vision of slaughtered Gringotts guards and goblins
on the floor of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort was scared, and a scared man with nothing to lose
was more dangerous than ever.

“Do you know why I summoned you, Severus?” Voldemort asked as he started to move
around the room. It reminded Harry of the way a big cat would stalk its prey, waiting to
pounce.

“No, my Lord, and I beg you to let me return. Let me find the girl and bring her to you.”

Voldemort scoffed, “You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understand Harry like I do.
Beautiful and headstrong, my girl will come to me by the end of the night. I know her
weakness, you see. She cannot bare to see her friends hurt, knowing that it is because of her.
Because they would not give her up. No, no. She will come to me. One way or another, she
will come.”

“But, my Lord, she might be killed accidentally before she finds you-”

With a roll of his red eyes, Voldemort huffed: “That girl has survived six years of threats, and
the worst she has suffered is a couple of scrapes. One might almost think her invincible. No,
no, my orders were clear to our people. No one is to harm Harry. They can kill as many of her
friends as they like, but any survivors I will happily use as leverage.”

“Then, what is wrong, my Lord?”

He gestured to the wand in his hand. “I need the Elder Wand, Severus, and I need it to work
against Harry. I need to have a wand that she knows won’t simply reject any Killing Curse I
send her way. I need to have that reassurance.”

Snape stilled, confusion furrowing his brows. “I-I thought it was your wish to make Potter
your queen, my Lord,” Snape said softly. “Not to kill her.”

“It is, but there may come a time when my affection for her is not as great as my desire to be
rid of the Chosen One. I would hate for it to happen, of course, but one can never be too
careful. Not even my wife should be able to defy me when this is over.”
Harry’s blood curdled at the thought. It wasn’t enough to force her to marry him, to bed him,
to watch her friends die. No, he wanted a little insurance to ensure that she could never truly
go against him. He could still kill her, and would kill her if she angered him. If one day he
decided that having her as his wife was too much hassle, he could simply kill her and this
time it wouldn’t rebound. This time it would work. ‘Has this guy never heard of a prenup?’
she thought with a low growl.

“Regardless of Harry’s fate though,” he continued. “I was told that the Elder Wand was the
most powerful of wands. The Wand of Destiny. The Deathstick. Wielded by both
Grindelwald and Dumbledore, and now me.”

He turned to face Snape again. “Yet for me, it chooses to act weak. It chooses to deny me the
rightful power of its owner. Why, Severus, is that?”

Snape’s face was pale, paler than it had ever been in the past six years, as he stared back at
his lord. “It answers to you, and you alone,” he replied slowly.

“Does it?”

“My lord?” Snape asked weakly.

“It has occurred to me that the reason it will not give into me is because I am not its rightful
owner. It will only work for the one who defeated its previous owner.”

Snape didn’t say anything, simply stared at the other man in silent fear.

“You are a clever man, Severus, and you have been a good and faithful servant all these
years. I truly regret what I must do-”

“My Lord-”

“The Elder Wand belongs to whomever killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore.
While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand will never truly be mine. If I am to truly master
Harry Potter, I must master the Elder Wand too.”

With a swipe of his wand, Snape crumbled to the ground but tried to regain his footing by
grasping onto the low windowsill behind him.

“Kill,” Voldemort ordered in Parseltongue.

The snake lunged at Snape, piercing its fangs into his neck again and again until blood began
to spill from his neck. Voldemort looked down at Snape and muttered, “I do regret it.”

Without a second thought, Voldemort left the boathouse, holding onto the Elder Wand tightly.
There was almost a spring in his step as he walked out, Nagini following closely behind him.
Harry almost couldn’t believe what she had witnessed. Voldemort had attacked Snape all for
a wand.

Once Voldemort was out of sight, Harry found herself walking into the boathouse and sinking
to her knees before the dying man. Snape’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of her as he
weakly tried to stop the bleeding from his neck.

“Take it… take it…” he pleaded in nothing more than a rasp.

He gestured to his head, and Harry instantly knew what he meant. The familiar silvery
substance that Harry had seen so much of during those meetings with Dumbledore last year
was pulled out of Snape’s cranium by Harry’s wand. Hermione thrust a flask into her hand,
which Harry then lifted to catch the memories, and Harry sealed it with her thumb.

“Look at me…” Snape wheezed. Harry looked down at him, confused at the unusual request.
“You have her eyes…”

For a rare moment, there was an element of kindness in his eyes as he looked back at her.
Then in the next, the light behind his eyes vanished and Severus Snape breathed his last.
Harry wasn’t sure why she was crying. She had hated Snape with a passion for the past six
years. Snape had killed Dumbledore. Snape had sneered down at her every chance. Snape had
hurled insults at Hermione and Neville. Snape had almost got Sirius killed, when he must
have known Sirius wasn’t a Death Eater and hadn’t betrayed her parents. Snape had tried to
get her into trouble time and time again. Snape had goaded her as he watched visions of
Voldemort invade her mind, of his master touching her against her will. Snape was… She
took in a deep breath and wiped away her tears. Snape was dead.

Then she gasped loudly as she felt a familiar presence invade her mind, set her scar aflame
and steal her breath away. She looked behind her to find Hermione and Ron both covering
their ears, as if that could keep him from entering their heads.

“You have fought valiantly,” he hissed. “Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue
to resist me, you will die one by one. I do not wish to waste anymore magical blood tonight.
Lord Voldemort is merciful, and so I order my forced to retreat at once. Dispose of your dead
with dignity. Treat your injured.”

A silence fell over the castle as both sides stopped fighting to listen to the Dark Lord. Harry
clambered to her feet trying to ignore the pain in her scar that threatened to send her back to
the ground again.

“Harry Potter, my love, I now speak directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die
for you rather than face me yourself. A needless waste of life you could have avoided if you
had come to me, my darling, and agreed to be mine.”

Harry clutched onto the wall as he then showed her the future he was proposing. She saw
herself in a wedding gown the colour of crimson, walking down the aisle with her head held
high and tears in her eyes. She saw Hermione and Ron with wands pressed against their
backs at the altar by Death Eaters. She saw the way Voldemort would grin wickedly as she
forced herself to say the vows, and the gleam in his red eyes as he sealed their union with a
kiss. She heard the scattered applause of their guests, and the official announcing them as the
Dark Lord and Lady of the Wizarding World.

“I shall wait for you for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If you do not appear during this
time, I shall enter the fray myself and I shall find you. And I shall punish every man, woman
and child who has tried to conceal you from me. You have one hour.”

Letting out a shudder, Harry’s gaze hardened as she looked back up to the castle. “Fuck you,
Tom,” she hissed in Parseltongue. Ron and Hermione exchanged wary glances behind her.

----

The Death Eaters and the rest of Voldemort’s followers had obeyed their lord, and now only
the students and Order of the Phoenix remained in the castle. The trio found the lingering
forces gathered in the Great Hall. The injured were being treated by Madame Pomfrey and a
small army of helpers. The dead lay in the middle of the hall, some covered in white sheets
and others were not. She saw Slughorn tending to Filch’s arm, nodding sadly at her as she
passed him. Lavender Brown’s body was being covered by a sheet by Parvati and Trelawney.
She looked down the Great Hall and counted the number of redheads, slightly relieved to
count as many breathing Weasleys as there had been at the beginning of the night. George
had his arm held tightly around Fred’s shoulders, something she could only tell by the
shortage of ears. Fred was badly wounded, but he still managed to smile just as his brother
had a few months prior. For a moment, Harry’s guilt was smoothened.

Then, as Ron and Hermione walked closer to the Weasley family, Harry found she had a clear
view of Tonks and Remus. Her heart stuttered at the sight of them lying side-by-side, their
hands almost touching, and their eyes closed. Her thoughts went to Teddy, orphaned at barely
a month old. Tears pricked her eyes painfully as she considered just how many orphans had
been made tonight, how many parents were childless. All because of her.

Harry couldn’t breathe. There were too many dead. There were too many injured. The Great
Hall suddenly seemed to be much smaller as Harry left it without a word to the others. The
castle was an empty shell now. Not even the ghosts haunted the stairwells, having gathered in
mourning in the Great Hall with the others. She climbed the stairs in silence to the
Headmaster’s office, and muttered Dumbledore’s name in lieu of a password. The griffin
guarding the office miraculously moved to reveal the stairwell to the office that she climbed
in a daze. The room hadn’t changed much in Snape’s tenure, though the various portraits of
past headmasters and headmistresses were now empty of their subjects, having moved
through the paintings to get a closer look at what was going on. Not even Dumbledore
remained.

Automatically, the Pensieve emerged from its hidden cabinet and Harry lugged the basin onto
the desk, pouring Snape’s memories in. The memories swirled and for no other reason than to
possibly assuage her grief, Harry dunked her head into the water. The water swirled around
her until she was witnessing a scene of three children: a young boy with dark hair and dark
eyes, a blonde girl and a redhead girl. She watched as a flower grew out of the palm of the
redhead, much to the blonde’s disapproval. Harry recognised the girls instantly from old
photos Petunia had rarely brought out when she was drunk and Vernon was either asleep or
away on business. She walked closer to take in the redhead’s appearance, the way her hair
fell down to her lower back, and looked back at her sister with the most beautiful green eyes.

“Mum…?”
In just ten minutes, Harry learned everything there was to know about the life of Severus
Snape. She saw his friendship with Lily, and the way that it became strained over the course
of their time at Hogwarts. The way that he became drawn to the Dark Arts and the rising
movement of Voldemort along with the likes of Bellatrix and Lucius. His obsession with
proving the Marauders were up to no good. She could see the pure hatred and single-minded
jealously of James Potter that burned through a teenaged Snape, convinced that he would lose
his friend to his rival one day. Harry watched as her mother couldn’t bear to look at her best
friend after he called her ‘mudblood’, how he couldn’t deny how he perceived other
Muggleborns when confronted.

The vision swirled till they were standing on a hilltop, on the outskirts of Hogwarts, the castle
lights glistened in the distance. Panting, Snape stood beside Harry, looking around like he
was waiting for someone, terrified of what would become of him. Dumbledore then appeared
before them in a jet of white light, his face hardened and impassive.

“What request could a Death Eater make of me?”

“The-the prophecy. He thinks it means Lily Evans!”

“The prophecy did not refer to a woman,” said Dumbledore coldly. “It spoke a child born at
the end of July-”

“Yes, but he thinks it means her daughter. He is going to kill them all.”

Dumbledore barely flinched. “If she means so much to you then, why not ask Lord
Voldemort to spare her for you?”

“I have- I have asked him.”

“You disgust me,” Dumbledore hissed. Harry had never heard such contempt in the
Headmaster’s voice before, not even when dealing with Voldemort. “You do not care about
her husband and child. You don’t care that she would be living with the knowledge that she
alone survived? That you wouldn’t help spare them. You have no qualms over their deaths, as
long as you get what you want.”

“Then hide them all. Keep her -them- safe,” the younger man pleaded.

“And what will you give me in return, Severus?”

The wind whipped his black robes around him fiercely as he seemed to hesitate before staring
back at the Headmaster. “Anything.”

Hurtling forwards in time, she saw a grief-stricken Snape in Dumbledore’s office with tears
in his eyes as Dumbledore stood over him. She listened to Dumbledore ask Snape to help
protect her, to watch over her. A task Snape seemed reluctant to undertake, for the simple
reason that she was James Potter’s child. Yet only with a promise of keeping his actions a
secret from Harry, did he vow to protect Lily Evans’ child.
“-mediocre, arrogant like her father, a determine rule-breaker, delighted to find himself
famous, attention-seeking and impertinent-”

Dumbledore sighed wearily from behind his copy of Transfiguration Today, “You alone see
those traits, Severus. Her other teachers report how modest she is, likeable and a promising
student. Besides, isn’t your godson now dating her? Surely that would warm her to you.”

Snape merely sniffed, “That is Lucius’ way of ingratiating himself with Potter in case the
Dark Lord never returns. He will use the girls’ fame to his advantage.”

“Perhaps. However, I don’t think his son sees it that way. Or have you not noticed the way
young Draco looks at Harry? Or how she looks at him,” he added with a small smile. “You
cannot deny that there is something budding between the pair.”

Snape glowered back at him. “It will not last. They are both far too privileged and arrogant
for anything to come of it.”

“Yes, I was forgetting you were such an expert on romance, Severus,” Dumbledore muttered
dryly. He turned the page of his paper. “Keep an eye on Quirrell, will you?”

The vision swirled again and this time the office was darker, Dumbledore slumped in his
chair whilst Snape examined his right hand that was blackened and burned. The Gaunt ring
lay on the desk and Dumbledore looked at it bitterly whilst Snape muttered incantations.

“You should have come to me immediately. I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time
being, but I am afraid you will die.

“How long do I have?”

“Perhaps a year at best.”

Dumbledore gazed at his hand thoughtfully. “We both know that Voldemort has ordered the
poor Malfoy boy to murder me. You know he is doing it to punish his parents, making them
suffer whilst they watch him fail or succeed. If he does not succeed, Voldemort will kill him.
The boy has a death sentence on his head as surely as I have.”

“Yet if he does succeed, he will break Harry’s heart and their bond will be destroyed.
Voldemort knows this. He knows he will never fully have her whilst she still loves the boy.”

“The Dark Lord has specific designs for Potter,” Snape said warily.

“Designs that include binding her to him, using her to force the rest of the Wizarding World
to join him. You’ve seen those visions, Severus. You know what he wants from her. His plans
for her changed after he resurrected himself, and now he sees in Harry an equal. A soulmate.
A wife.”

Dumbledore adjusted in his seat, and continued: “I am doing everything in my power to

ensure that doesn’t happen. But if the time comes, Severus, I want you to take Draco’s place.
You must be the one to kill me, Severus.”
“Why not let Draco do it? Protect the boy that way.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “I just told you that Harry will never forgive him for killing me.
Nor would I wish his soul to be ripped apart on my account.”

“But you would allow mine to be ripped?” Snape hissed.

“That is for you alone to decide if it does or not. Consider it sparing an old man one last
humiliation, and the mercy of a quick death. I have no desire to be killed by the likes of
Bellatrix or Greyback. No, no, it must be you. Only then will the Dark Lord trust you
completely.”

“Why?” Snape demanded.

“There will come a time for Harry Potter to be told something. But you must wait until
Voldemort is at his most vulnerable. When he becomes concerned for the safety of the snake
Nagini, and refuses to let it out of his sight. Then, and only then you must tell her the truth,
Severus.”

Snape glowered at Dumbledore. “What truth?”

 What Was I Made For?
Chapter Notes

We're nearing the end here, so here's the Forest scene before the final duel. And yes, the
title is a Barbie reference as I think the song fits perfectly with her final walk into the
Forbidden Forest. Enjoy!

Harry slumped into the chair behind the headmaster’s desk, stunned by what she had learned.
Her hands shook from the weight of the knowledge she had just been given. Snape had been
protecting her all this time. Snape had been the one to give her the Sword of Gryffindor,
sending his Patronus to lure her away from the camp. He had taken the other part of Lily’s
letter to Sirius that Harry had been unable to find at Grimmauld Place. He had followed
Dumbledore’s orders, even after the Headmaster’s death, from the portrait that was currently
empty of its subject. He had done all of it, and died for it, all because he had loved Lily
Evans.

That was nothing though compared to the knowledge that she never supposed to survive this
war. Her death would kill the part of Voldemort’s soul that was bound to her, that she felt
probing away at her very core. Once she had destroyed the Horcruxes Dumbledore had sent
her to recover, she was to walk calmly into Death’s arms.

Slowly, she stood from her seat and she felt a strange feeling overcome her. A numbness. A
sense of fearlessness. It didn’t matter what it was, because it allowed her to walk away from
the desk and towards the door to the office. She wondered if she should have been angry at
Dumbledore for planning this the whole time. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to feel that way.
Dumbledore had tried, for better or for worse, he had tried to do as much as he could before
he died. He had lied, and kept secrets from those closest to him. He had been almost very
Slytherin in nature, but perhaps that was what living through two dark wizards had done to
him.

She walked down from the office and through the empty corridors of the castle. A part of her
wished that she would find Draco to say goodbye, but knew that if she did then he would
never let her leave. He would scream for Hermione and Ron and demand they make her come
to her sense. He would blockade the doors with whatever survivors were left, promising they
would find another way. ‘No’, she thought. ‘It’s better this way. No goodbyes. No tears. Just
me and Tom’. With that thought in mind, she slipped out of the castle and made her way
across the rubble of the courtyard to the Forbidden Forest.

----

On the edge of the Forbidden Forest, harry found it suddenly difficult to breath. She was
scared that it would hurt, that it wouldn’t work. If it didn’t work, then she would wake up the
next morning as the future bride of Lord Voldemort. The thought made her shudder. No, it
had to work. Dumbledore wouldn’t risk that being her fate. Voldemort had to kill her, and
then once the snake was killed, he too would die. It would be over.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the Snitch and rubbed her thumb over the grooves of
the metal. “I’m ready to die,” she murmured and pressed her lips to the gold metal.

The shell broke open and inside a black stone with a jagged mark running down its middle
lay in its centre. Harry knew what it was instantly, and began to laugh at how obvious it was.
Of course, Dumbledore had found the Resurrection Stone. He had been given the Elder
Wand, held onto the Invisibility Cloak for Harry for ten years and then he had found the
Resurrection Stone.
Without a second thought, he turned the stone over in his hand three times. Something shifted
in the air, a stillness overcame the Forest and it was as if time had stopped. Not even the wind
made a sound as Harry raised her gaze to see them. Neither ghost nor flesh, they moved
towards him with the same loving smile.

James’ hair was just as untidy and ruffled as she had always seen him with, now standing an
inch or two higher than Harry in the clothes he had died in. Sirius was as handsome as
always, somehow seeming younger in death than he did in life. Remus seemed younger too,
happier surrounded by his loved ones again in a place that had meant so much to all of them.
Then there was Lily, just as lovely as she remembered, whose gaze seemed to trying to
capture every inch of Harry.

“We’re so proud of you, sweetheart,” she said.

Harry could barely speak, always so enraptured by the sight of her parents. “It’s nearly over
now,” James murmured. “Just one last step.”

“Does it hurt?” she asked suddenly. She looked to Sirius, knowing he wouldn’t lie to her.

He shook his head softly. “No, Bambi. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

She nodded, taking in the information. “I didn’t want you to die. Any of you. A-and, Remus,
you have a son-” she said with tears in her eyes.

Remus merely smiled, not an ounce of bitterness or regret across his face. “One day, he will
know why I died and hopefully the world will be a better place for him.”

Nodding solemnly, she looked out behind Lily to the Forbidden Forest. With a deep breath,
she knew she was running out of time. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Until the very end,” said James.

“They won’t be able to see you?”

Sirius shook his head. “We are, and always have been a part of you.”

A grateful smile crossed her face and she stepped forward, the forms of the adults flanking
her from behind. “Stay close to me,” she whispered.
As she walked through the Forbidden Forest, not even the Dementors appeared before her.
Her companions acting like Patronuses, keeping the beasts at bay as they walked deeper and
deeper into the forest.

-----

“No sign of her, my lord.”

Voldemort’s head rose from where he had been contemplating his next move. A fire was
burning which the Death Eaters were gathered around next to him, but he sat perched on a
rock with Nagini curled around his feet. Greyback was biting his bloody nails, the Malfoys
were huddled together no doubt fretting over their son, and Bellatrix looked at him with
awestruck eyes. He fiddled with the Elder Wand, and noted the way several of his followers
flinched at the sight of it.

“My Lord-” Bellatrix began but faltered when he raised a hand to silence her.

He glanced back at Nagini, disappointed that she hadn’t shown. He hadn’t lied when he’d
made his forces retreat from the castle, he didn’t want to kill any more people with magical
blood. It would not serve him well in the new world order to be reduced in numbers
compared to Muggles. He sighed, unsure what had become of Harry. Perhaps her friends had
convinced her to stay or to run, but that didn’t sound like Harry. Harry’s heart bled at the
thought of others dying for her. She wouldn’t allow others to die for her, not after witnessing
his wrath first-hand.

“I thought she would come,” he said almost sadly.

“I’m right here,” Harry announced as she stepped forward into the clearing.

Green eyes met red and for a brief moment, not a sound was made in the forest and it was as
if only the pair of them existed. Voldemort stepped forward but didn’t raise his wand. Harry
barely felt any pain in her scar now, not feeling an ounce of anger or hatred coming from the
man in front of her. Instead, she felt the relief and satisfaction at her having come to him, at
being right about her all along.

The illusion was quickly shattered by the sound of Hagrid shouting from where he was
bound. “Harry?! What are ye doin’ here?” he cried.

Hagrid was quickly silenced with a spell and the forest fell silent once more, save for the
words of the Chosen One and the Dark Lord. “Darling, fashionably late as always,”
Voldemort smirked. “I was worried you weren’t coming.”

“You made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” she muttered dryly.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve seen to reason. All this meaningless death is such a waste, and puts
such a damper on a momentous occasion.”

“And what occasion is that, Tom?”

“Our engagement, of course. Tonight, we will retire together and you shall be mine, then
tomorrow, you shall order your forces to stand down. We will then begin preparations for our
wedding.”

Harry blinked. “And then?”

“Then we shall spend the rest of our lives together, of course.”

She saw the marriage he envisioned. She saw the matching thrones they would sit beside, the
beautiful dresses he would gift her and the tiara she would wear on her head. She saw them
both walking onto a balcony to wave at the people, the terrified huddled masses below, and
how he would pull her into a kiss. The state dinners and meetings that would end in her being
bent over whatever desk or table as he whispered filthy promises into her ears of the rewards
she would receive in return for good behaviour. Harry frowned. This wasn’t going how it was
supposed to. Voldemort was supposed to be trying to kill her right now, but Dumbledore had
known about Voldemort’s desire for and trusted that Harry would be able to break through
that. She thought back to all the many conversations her and Voldemort had had over the
years, both in person and with the hallucinations in her head.

So, Harry did what Harry did best.

“Do you really think that is all it would take?” she asked coldly. Her face hardened and her
eyes burned green with rage. “Did you think that after all you have done, especially tonight,
that I would simply fall into your arms? Hogwarts is our home! Mine and yours, and any
other kid who is scared and alone. And tonight, you’ve tried to destroy it.”

“It was never my intention to-”

“Not your intention? Look at it! It didn’t do that to itself,” she cried, gesturing in the direction
of the castle. “You have allowed evil to come to the one place in the world that children
should feel safe. For that I can never forgive you.”

Voldemort scoffed, “Castles can be rebuilt, Harry. Administrations reorganised. You and I can
do that, we can build this world in any way you choose. All you have to do is join me. Come
with me now, my darling, and I promise you that no more harm will come to your friends.
Come with me now, and we do extraordinary things together.”

“You would make me a tyrant!” she hissed.

“I would make you a queen,” he declared with a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Fair as the sea
and the sun. Stronger than the foundations of the earth.”

“And you my king and Dark Lord?” she muttered bitterly.

“Yes. Together we will rule this world, and you will never be alone again. I promise you, I
will never let you feel weak and at the mercy of Muggles ever again. They will never hurt
you again.”
Harry growled in frustration and took several steps forward until she was in the middle of the
clearing, centre stage for her final act. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I am an
orphan because of you! I was made to live with the Dursley’s because of you! I was abused
and neglected for years because of you. Because of your own weakness, your own fear, you
tried to kill a mere baby. Even now, after all your lavish gestures, you would still kill me if I
threatened your rule. And you still think I’d marry you?!”

Voldemort took stepped forward, his eyes inflamed with rage. “You dare? I am offering you
the chance to save your precious friends, the people you love. Our marriage would protect
them and you from-”

Before he could finish his sentence, she snarled, “Tom, from the moment I met you, your
arrogance, pure narcissism and disdain for others made me realise that you are the last man
on earth I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!”

The Death Eaters froze in fear, stunned at her words and terrified of what their lord would do.
Voldemort simply stared at her, his face slowly hardening and he finally resembled the
monster Harry had always known him to be.

“Have it your way then,” he said darkly and raised his wand.

Taking a deep breath, Harry planted her feet against the ground and didn’t reach for her own
wand. The green light came hurtling towards her, and Harry just smiled as she crumbled to
the forest floor.

----

She awoke surrounded by bright light on a cold hard floor, unsure where she was except that
she was no longer surrounded by Death Eaters. Her clothes were gone, and in their place was
a floor-length white dress with balcony sleeves. The dirt from her face and body was gone,
her hair had been brushed and was now silky-smooth. Even her glasses were clean, and no
longer on the verge of being broken once again. She pulled herself to her feet, looking around
for any sign of life. There was only one strange noise. She recoiled at the sight of the source
of it hidden beneath one of the white benches that lined what looked like platforms of a train
station. A small, naked child, curled up on the ground, its skin raw and rough, as it lay
shivering under a bench where it had been seemingly abandoned.

“You cannot help.”

Spinning around, Albus Dumbledore stood before her in dazzling white robes. “Harry.” He
spread his arms wide and within seconds, Harry ran into them and held the Headmaster
tightly. His hands came up to caress her black hair as he beamed: “You beautiful, brave girl.
Let us take a walk.”

Harry nodded dumbly and pulled herself away from him, taking the man’s arm instead as
they walked away from the flayed child. “Professor, what is that?” she asked, gesturing back
to the child.

Dumbledore glanced back. “A piece of Voldemort sent here to die.”

Wrinkling her nose, she turned away from it. “Right. Where is here exactly?”

“Oh, I was going to ask you that, Harry. Where do you think we are?”

Harry looked around at the pillars, benches and large domed ceiling above them. “I mean, it
looks like King’s Cross Station. But cleaner.”

Dumbledore looked around amused. “Does it really? Well, as good a place as any.”

Looking again around, Harry considered what she knew about the place. Firstly, that a piece
of Voldemort’s soul was dying slowly behind. Secondly, that she was currently linking arms
with a man she knew was very much dead.

“Professor, am I dead?”

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly. “Not exactly. The part of you that was Voldemort’s soul
is dead. You, on the other hand, remain very much alive.”

Harry frowned, “Well, seeing as I don’t think I’m related to Lazarus, would you explain how
that is?”

Dumbledore nodded. “You were the seventh Horcrux. The Horcrux he never intended to
make. That night in Godric’s Hollow did more damage to him than he thought. He had
rendered his soul so unstable that it broke apart when he killed your parents and then tried to
kill you. What was left of him latched onto the nearest thing: you.”

“His lack of understand and appreciation for different forms of magic backfired against him.
You’ve seen it before with your mother’s protection. Anything he doesn’t value; he doesn’t
take into consideration. House-elves, love, loyalty -things Voldemort has no understanding
of. These things have been his undoing.”

Harry considered his words carefully, thinking back to all her interactions with Voldemort.
Everything had changed the night he came in Fourth Year, when he had tried to kill her and
their wands had clashed. “The night he came back, he fucked something up, didn’t he? He
used my blood to return. Did that do something?”

The Headmaster beamed down at her, proud at her having come to the conclusion on her
own. “He took your blood believing it would strengthen him, but it merely kept your
mother’s enchantment alive. He bound you together even more intimately than you were
before. That was why he couldn’t kill you. It had nothing to do with your wands.”

Harry paused. There was a spring in Dumbledore’s step now, as if a heavy weight had been
lifted from his aging shoulders. Lord Voldemort was very nearly defeated. One more
Horcrux, and it would be over.

“Why did you never tell me about the Hallows, sir?”

Dumbledore’s face changed then. Guilty even, as he moved to sit down at a nearby bench and
sighed, “I don’t blame you for being angry with me for keeping that from you, Harry. I was
scared of you repeating my mistakes. I apologise profusely for this, Harry. I have known for
quite some time now that you are a far better person than I was.”

“What are you on about?” Harry demanded, standing beside him. “I don’t blame you. You
didn’t make Tom Riddle into a psychopath. You didn’t tell him the prophecy was about me.
You tried. You helped destroy two dark wizards, so don’t you dare give me that self-
deprecating crap right now.”

Dumbledore patted the seat beside him with a solemn smile till she took her place at his side
once more. “I know I told you something about my past, Harry, and my brother has no doubt
filled in the rest. I was a very angry and resentful young man when I met Gellert
Grindelwald. I loved my family very much, but I was selfish. When my parents died, I was
left to raise a wayward brother and a damaged sister. I was trapped, due to spend the rest of
my days keeping Ariana calm and Aberforth on the right path. And then…”

“You fell in love with Grindelwald,” she prompted.

A sad smile graced his lips. “Beautiful, dangerous Gellert. I was easily drawn to him and his
charms, the ideas he had. We planned a whole new world order together. Muggles
subservient. Wizards triumphant. Back then, I squashed any morals I had over this revolution
by promising myself that I would making the world safe for Ariana again. I would make sure
no other little girl or boy went through what she did.”

“And there at the heart of it all, were the Hallows. How they fascinated us both. The power
they wielded. Never once did I consider the danger they posed. Love made me blind to
Gellert, blind to what his plans meant if we ever were to embark on this revolution. We were
just going to run away, take Ariana with us, allow Aberforth a chance at normality. We would
be the masters of death. But then, well, you know what happened next.”

Harry placed her hand over his. “It was an accident, sir.”

“An accident that cost me the three people I loved most in this world, Harry. I was left to live
with my guilt, and I was happy enough to hide myself away at Hogwarts. Far away from any
real power such as at the Ministry. And whilst I hid and taught young wizards, Grindelwald
amassed an army. They say he feared me, but I think really, I feared him. I feared that he
knew who killed Ariana that night, and would tell me. That’s why it took me so long to
confront him, why the war lasted as long as it did.”

“I had to defeat the man I loved even though it broke me to do it, and they gave me the Order
of Merlin for doing so,” he muttered bitterly.

Harry considered the tear-stricken Headmaster, the vulnerability he rarely showed anyone
else seemed reserved only for her in his later years. She wanted to offer him comfort, but
there was only one piece of information that she felt could do so. “Grindelwald lied to
Voldemort, sir, about having the wand.”

Dumbledore nodded, looking down at his lap as tears slipped down his crooked nose. “They
say he showed remorse in his later years. I hope that is true. I would like to think that he did
feel the horror and shame of what he had done. Perhaps that lie to Voldemort was his attempt
at making amends…”

“Or maybe to stop him from breaking into your tomb?”

Dumbledore dabbed at his eyes but didn’t say anything. Harry knew though that he wanted to
believe that too. Harry had seen the pride on Grindelwald’s face when he spoke of
Dumbledore, the look in his eyes as he realised what Dumbledore had done. Idly, she
wondered what life would have been like if Dumbledore had managed to convince
Grindelwald that world domination was a fools’ errand. Would they then have both led quiet
lives as teachers at Hogwarts? Grindelwald slowly accepting the Muggleborn students in an
effort to please Dumbledore, the pair of them grading essays in the comfort of each others’
offices. It was a comforting image, that she imagined the Headmaster had envisioned many a
time over the years.

“I was such a fool in life, Harry,” he said suddenly. “Selfish. I was never meant to unite the
Hallows as I had once dreamed of. I was merely their caretaker for the most part. I was fit to
own the Elder Wand, never to boast or kill with it. The Stone cursed me the moment I put it
on, tarnished with dark magic that would have killed me eventually. And the Cloak, I took
out of vain curiosity and merely held onto until you came to Hogwarts.”

Harry sighed wearily, “You couldn’t have written all this down in like a letter for me? Not
sent me off on a magical mystery tour of Britain.”

Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle, “I wish it had been that simple. I only had vague ideas on
what the Horcruxes could be and where they were. As for the Hallows, I was scared that if
tempted by them as I was, your hot head might outweigh you good heart. You would fall
victim to them as I did, and I would not allow that to happen to you. Instead, they have come
into your possession safely and will do your bidding.”

He turned to Harry and smiled earnestly; his tears now dried. “You are the true owner of the
Deathly Hallows, Harry. The true master of death, because the true master does not seek to
run away from Death.”

Harry vaguely recalled a similar speech given to her in First Year about the Philosopher’s
Stone. It would only appear to those wishing to protect it, not to use it for personal gain. That
was how the Stone had come into her possession that fateful night.

“Well, Tom’s gonna be pissed when I get back. Not only did I refuse his proposal, I’m
practically immortal at this rate,” she muttered dryly.

A soft chuckle escaped the Headmaster, “I imagine he will be, yes. Particularly when you tell
him why his wand doesn’t work for him.”

Harry hummed, “Performance issues are very common for someone his age, I’ve heard.”

“Harry,” he scolded lightly and stood up from his seat. “As for the matter of staying or going,
that is entirely up to you.”
“I’ve got a choice?”

“Oh yes,” Dumbledore smiled. “King’s Cross, did you say we were? Well then, I imagine that
you could always board a train.”

“And go where?”

“On.”

Harry considered it for a moment. Leaving on a train and moving on to the afterlife seemed
oddly comforting. Her eyes drifted to the small form gasping for air beneath the bench.

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, pity those who live without love,”
Dumbledore said as he turned to leave.

With a final glance back at the Headmaster, she asked: “Professor, is this real or is it all in my
head?”

Dumbledore flashed her a familiar crooked smile. “Of course, it’s happening inside your
head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?”

She shook her head at the thought and smiled at the thought of what was waiting for her
when awoke. The silver eyes that were filled with love and guilt and the promise of a future
on the other side. That, was certainly something worth living for.
 The Girl Who Lived
Chapter Notes

How badly I've been putting off finishing this chapter, but here it is. I think there's
maybe one more chapter in this before I finish it, but for now: enjoy!

Red eyes shot open and found Bellatrix hovering over him, concern written across her face.
As his senses returned to him, he realised that he was flat on his back on the forest floor but
he was still alive. ‘Harry’. He pushed Bellatrix away from him as she tried to help him to his
feet, eager to see if it had indeed worked this time. Staggering to his feet, he saw her lying
crumbled on the forest floor, her face turned away from them. No one moved, just simply
stared at her in wonder, waiting with baited breath for her to roll over and start hurtling
insults once again.

“Is she-is she dead?” he asked eventually.

Narcissa tentatively moved towards her, her dress brushing against the forest floor as she
went to kneel beside Harry. Soft hands tilted her head back, then reached down to her chest
and felt for her heartbeat. Narcissa stilled. Harry knew she could feel the steady pounding
that beat against her ribs, fear flooding her as she prayed that Narcissa wouldn’t say anything.

“Sweetheart, don’t move. But tell me, is Draco alive?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Harry whispered back.

Narcissa stood to her full height and turned to look Lord Voldemort in the eye. “Dead,” she
declared.

The forest erupted into cheers of triumph and bursts of light shot through the air in
celebration. Still feigning death, Harry considered that the only way Narcissa and Lucius
would be able to find their son would be as part of the conquering army. She didn’t care
whether Voldemort won, if she ever had done.

She half-listened to orders being barked by Voldemort and tried to remain as limp as possible
as she was eventually lfited by Hagrid’s large gentle hands. She felt the trembling of the half-
giant as he sobbed over her limp form. She didn’t care move though, to comfort him. She had
to wait until they were back at the castle, until Nagini was dead. Only then, would she be free
to kill Voldemort once and for all.

----

The cold light of morning washed over the castle as the Death Eaters marched solemnly over
the bridge and into the courtyard. They came to a stop, and Harry tried not to wince at the
screams of her name as people began to emerge from the castle to see her cradled in Hagrid’s
arms.

“Harriet Potter is dead. We bring you proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. From
this day forth, you put your faith in me. Not in some old fool, or the girl he controlled. No, in
me. The heir of Salazar Slytherin himself.”

He looked around the castle, saw the survivors’ looks of grief and devastation. He wished he
felt that. He’d barely spared Harry a second glance since commanding Hagrid to carry her
back to the castle, on full display in his large arms for all to see.

“You see now? Your Chosen One was nothing more than a little girl. A little girl who
couldn’t protect you. She chose death rather than ensure your safety.”

“She rejected you!” Ron bellowed. “Time and time again, she rejected you and she beat you.
You couldn’t have her, so you killed her.”

The spell of silence broke instantly and the survivors began to scream and shout their support
of Harry. Voldemort’s triumphant face faltered for a moment, bewildered at the resistance he
was still met with.

“Silence!” Voldemort cried and the castle fell silent once more. “I will admit that having to
kill one so beautiful devastates me. She would have made me an excellent queen, she refused
to give herself to me to ensure your safety. Such an act of cowardice I could not abide in my
consort.”

Ron growled lowly and had to be held back by his brothers from launching himself at the
Dark Lord. The others simply glared at him, trying to process their rage and grief all at once.

“My Lord,” a small voice piped up behind. Voldemort glanced over his shoulder to find
Lucius looking at him with pleading eyes. “My son. Please, my lord, my son.”

All eyes turned to Draco, stood amongst the others and looking equally as dishevelled. His
eyes looked out at Harry’s body, his grey eyes glistening as his father called for him. His eyes
hadn’t left Harry since Hagrid first appeared and the others realised the groundskeeper was
carrying somebody.

“Draco,” Narcissa called. “Come.”

Draco’s gaze finally moved to his mother. He seemed to hesitate, glancing around the others
before he stepped forward to obey his parents. In his hand, he held a battered brown hat to
everyone’s bewilderment.

Hermione tried to reach for him but Ron held her back, shaking his head. “It’s alright, mate.
We get it,” he murmured.

Draco glanced at him and nodded before carrying on. As he passed him, he thrust the Sorting
Hat into Neville’s chest without giving the other boy a second look. Neville looked down at it
in bewilderment, but said nothing.
“Well done, Draco!” Voldemort cried mockingly and stepped towards him, his arms wide as
if to embrace him.

No one expected what happened next. Draco moved out of Voldemort’s grasp and snarled,
“Don’t you dare touch me!”

The silence was deafening as all eyes focussed on the pale-haired boy and the Dark Lord. “I
beg your pardon?” the Dark Lord asked coldly.

“Don’t you dare touch me. After what you’ve done, don’t you touch me.”

“To what are you referring?” Voldemort huffed.

Tears streamed down his face as he glared at the Dark Lord. “I loved that girl. She was good.
She was kind. And you killed her!” he cried. “And what’s worse is you claimed to love her
too.”

“I loved the girl I thought I knew. Not the coward who wouldn’t save her friends,” Voldemort
snarled.

Draco shook his head solemnly. “Harry was many things, but one thing she wasn’t was a
coward. She was far better a person than either you or I, and in the end neither of us got her.
So, I hope you’re happy, my Lord, with the consolation prize of the world because I sure as
hell am not.”

Voldemort considered him with a glower, and he heard the terrified gasp from behind him
from the Malfoys’. “I will blame your wilful insubordination as the result of your grief,
Draco. I understand that. However, you will learn to curb your tongue in the future.”

Draco said nothing but walked towards his parents who held onto him tightly. Once
Voldemort’s attention was turned back to the school, he shot a wink at Neville. The other boy
nodded in understanding and attempted to rush the Dark Lord, wand in hand. In mere
seconds, he was crying out in pain as he was disarmed and quickly crumbled to the ground.

“And who is this?” Voldemort asked softly. “Who has volunteered to demonstrate the limits
of my mercy?”

Bellatrix released a delighted cackle. “It’s Neville Longbottom, my Lord. The son of those
Aurors, remember?”

“Ah yes, I remember now,” Voldemort drawled as he gazed down at Neville who was
struggling to get to his feet. “You are a Pureblood, are you not?”

“So, what if I am?”

Voldemort smiled fondly, “You show spirit. You come from a noble stock, just like Harry did.
You would make a very valuable Death Eater. We have need of people like you, Neville.”

Neville spat out blood onto the stone floor. “I would not join you for all the gold in
Gringotts.”
“There seems to be a lot of spunk in the young people today,” Voldemort muttered dryly.
“Your Chosen One lies dead, boy.

Neville nodded solemnly. “True, but even when she wasn’t here, we kept fighting. She was
running from you, and we still kept fighting your goons from inside this castle. And we will
keep fighting. For Dumbledore. For Harry!”

Harry had heard enough and rolled out of Hagrid’s arms, causing a collective gasp to erupt
from both sides as her feet landed on the ground. Draco darted out from the Death Eater
ranks and yelled, “Now, Longbottom!”

From the depths of the Sorting Hat, Neville removed something silver with a rubied handle.
The Sword of Gryffindor swung through the air and in a single stroke, Neville managed to
cut off Nagini’s head. Voldemort clutched his heart and his mouth opened in a silent scream
as the black smoke that erupted from Nagini’s neck vanished into thin air with a roar of
protest.
Harry was relieved to find that she wasn’t affected by the snake’s death, as she ran over the
rubble and back into the castle. A staggering Voldemort angrily shot spells at her retreating
form. Draco also ran, back behind the lines of Ron and Hermione who covered him as they
all ran back into the castle. Death Eaters began fleeing in whirls of black smoke behind
Voldemort as he turned his sights back onto Hogwarts.

“Come back and fight!” Bellatrix yelled as the Malfoys ran after their son.

Voldemort stalked towards the castle, glowering at the familiar faces of Harry’s friends that
cast defensive spells back at him. She had defied him for the last time. The next time he cast
the spell, she would die and stay dead.

“Lure the Death Eaters into the castle. I need him alone,” Harry panted as she appeared
besides her friends. She then turned to Draco and kissed him. “And you, don’t die.”

Draco rolled his eyes before he watched her dart away, and headed for the Great Hall.

----

“Cissy!”

Narcissa heard her sister call her name and reluctantly looked behind her to find Bellatrix
snarling at her. Lucius glanced at her and tugged at her hand, but she gestured for him to
continue the search without her. She had thought her sister had been distracted in duelling
Hermione, Luna and Ginny at once, but it seemed that she had followed her sister out of the
Great Hall. They now stood in the corridor the teachers used to slip in and out of the Great
Hall, a deserted and for the most part quiet corridor lit with sconces that burned brightly
above their heads.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” she hissed.

Narcissa stared blankly at her and replied coolly: “I have to find my son, Bella.”
Bellatrix snarled and brandished her wand at the other witch. “You lied to the Dark Lord. You
told him Potter was dead. Why, Cissy? Why did you betray us?”

Narcissa stilled and glowered back at her sister. “Look around you. This war is over. He
doesn’t care about us. About anyone, least of all you. He was going to exchange you for a
seventeen-year-old half an hour ago. For Merlin’s sake, we lost our sister because of this
bullshit. Our cousins. I nearly lost my husband and my son! Are you honestly asking me why
I betrayed him?”

“Have it your way then. I am still loyal though, and if I find that brat of yours before you
do-!”

The knife embedded itself into Bellatrix’s abdomen, blood soaking up the black fabric of her
dress. “Cissy…?” she croaked.

Narcissa caught her as she fell, holding onto her tightly as blood filled her mouth. Tears
pricked her eyes as she listened to her sister wheeze, her fingers clawing at Narcissa’s arms as
she tried to struggle against the hold. She pressed a kiss to her sister’s head and muttered,
“Enough, Bella. Enough.”

Then after the first time in nearly twenty years, the manic left Bellatrix’s eyes as they closed
one last time. Footsteps ran through the corridor and Narcissa looked up to find Hermione
standing over her, a flicker of fear in her eyes.

“It’s alright. She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore,” Narcissa replied calmly. “Have you
seen my son?”

“He went to the kitchens,” Hermione murmured, her eyes not leaving Bellatrix’s corpse.
“Went to find the house-elves.”

“Ah. I’m surprised Dobby hasn’t already come to Harry’s defence,” she said as she pulled
herself to her feet. “You had better get back to the fighting, Miss Granger. The battle isn’t
won yet.”

Hermione nodded dumbly as she watched Narcissa take off down the corridor in the direction
of the kitchens.

----

Harry entered the depths of the castle, wand raised as she waited for him. In the Great Hall,
the battle waged on with what little remained of Voldemort’s forces. Distantly, she could hear
the new sounds of hooves and the twang of bows, and what sounded like the cries of house-
elves. However, Harry was more concerned with a certain reptilian who had yet to appear
again. The silence unnerved her as she waited behind a column on the main staircase for him
to appear, but then she heard the tell-tale hissing that came with his approach. To be
particularly irritating, she began to whistle a familiar tune to gain his attention before
emerging from behind the column and threw a curse at him.
“It’s over, Tom. Your followers have fled or dead. Your Horcruxes have been destroyed.
You’re finished.”

Voldemort’s crimson gaze focussed on her as she walked backwards up the stairs and hissed,
“Is that right? You think it will be you, the Girl Who Lived purely by dumb luck, will be the
one to defeat me?”

“Don’t be bitter, darling, it really ages you,” she smirked. “And no, it won’t be luck that
saves me this time.”

“Is it love again?” he spat. “Dumbledore’s favourite solution: love, which he claimed
conquered death, though love did not stop him from dying, did it? Love, which did not
prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach. And seeing as I don’t see
anyone who loves you enough to take my curse this time, what will stop you dying now?”

“As always, Tom, you are woefully uninformed. How’s the wand by the way? Still having
performance issues?”

Voldemort winced. “You dare?”

He chased her through the castle till they were both outside again, in the now empty
courtyard. They began to circle each other, wands raised and panting fiercely. Harry’s blood
was pumping though, and she couldn’t help but taunt the older man some more.

“You’ve lost, old man,” she sneered. “Not a single one of your plans has worked. Admit it!
You were brought down by a bunch of teenagers and Albus Dumbledore.”

“I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!”

“Nope, you dumb fuck, you got played,” Harry cackled.

“Dumbledore is dead! His body decays in the marble tomb on these very grounds. I have
seen it, Harry, he will never return!” he roared.

“Yeah, he’s dead alright,” Harry replied calmly. “But like myself, he chose to die. Arranged
the whole thing right under your nose with the man you thought was your faithful servant.”

Voldemort paced, his wand never leaving Harry’s form as he hissed, “What nonsense is this?”

“Severus Snape was never yours. Snape was Dumbledore’s man, Dumbledore’s from the
moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realised because you cannot
understand love.”

Harry let out a manic giggle then. “What’s better though, is he wasn’t even the first person to
turn against you. That right belongs to Regulus Black. He stole your Horcrux when you
nearly killed Kreacher. He discovered your secret long before Dumbledore did!”

“So, what if he did? They’re both dead now, and I will bring about a new age for the magical
world with or without you.”
“You won’t do shit with that wand. It’s not working like it should, right? It’s rejecting you
just like I did,” she smirked.

“I killed Severus Snape! The wand belongs to me,” he bellowed.

“The wand chooses the wizard, Tom, and that wand never belonged to Snape. Draco who
disarmed Dumbledore that night.” Voldemort’s eyes widened in realisation. “And before you
try and murder my boyfriend, I already disarmed him weeks ago.”

“No!”

“The Elder Wand is mine, Tom. It cannot and will not kill its master. It’s over.” Harry’s face
softened suddenly as she continued, “It’s your last chance, Tom. Please. Try for some
remorse… You’ve already butchered your soul seven times for this bullshit. For your own
sake, try and save it now. Please!”

His eyes burned crimson as he glared at her, his black robes billowing around him in the pale
sunlight of the dawn. “Never.”

Nodding solemnly, Harry raised her gaze, cold and hardened. “Have it your way.
Expelliarmus!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

Harry watched in a daze as the green jet of light from the Elder Wand met Harry’s own spell
and flung itself out of Voldemort’s hand. Harry caught the wand with ease, and stared down
at Voldemort with a cold stare. He fell backwards, his red eyes rolling into the back of his
head as he eventually crumbled to the floor.

A flicker of movement caught her attention and she looked away from him to find them all
staring back at her. All the Horcrux forms now stood in a circle around them both. Forms that
had haunted her, taunted her for years, suddenly turned to look at her with bitter smiles as
their host died before their eyes. Harry began to slowly walk forward and as she did so, she
saw each Horcrux form disappear into clouds of dark smoke. She knelt down before
Voldemort who was now crumbled on the floor, and placed a hand over his own.

“Goodbye, Tom Riddle,” she said softly.

With that, Tom Riddle lay dead in front of his nemesis and Harry sighed in relief. It was over.
It was finally over.

----

The sun rose over Hogwarts, blue sky poking through the clouds that were beginning to part
as the mood of the castle lifted. Word quickly spread around the country of what had
happened. Death Eaters were fleeing or being captured, destined for Azkaban to replace the
cells of the innocent now being freed. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been made temporary
Minister for Magic, and Harry wondered how long it would take for him to get on her bad
side. Voldemort’s body had been moved to a separate chamber away from all the other
victims of the night. Harry had barely registered it being moved until Hermione and Ron
pulled her away from him, bringing her back into the Great Hall where the others greeted her
with cheers.

Harry knew why they wanted her there. She was the Girl Who Lived. She had defeated Lord
Voldemort. She was their leader, their poster girl, and yet the minute she saw that most of the
adults were distracted, she signalled to Ron and Hermione to cover for her. She slipped out of
the Great Hall and once again, made her way up to the headmaster’s office. bypassing the
Pensieve this time, she sat behind Dumbledore’s desk and rooted through the drawers till she
found the destroyed Horcruxes he had kept and from her pockets, brought out the rest. Along
the desk, she placed the ink-stained diary, the ring, locket, cup and diadem. From Nagini’s
corpse she had pilfered a fang and then there was herself, her own battered body sat in
Dumbledore’s chair.

She considered the Elder Wand again, running her fingers along the grooves of it before
coming to a decision. With a final glance at Dumbledore’s portrait, that was beaming with
pride down at her, she left the office.

----

The tomb still had a crack in it from when Voldemort had broken into it a few weeks prior,
but Harry actually found it easier for what she had planned. She looked down at
Dumbledore’s corpse and sighed, placing the Elder Wand back between his cold fingers. With
the flick of her own wand, recently repaired thanks to the Elder Wand, the tomb resealed
itself. She then sat down and leaned her head against the white marble.

“We did it, sir. We finally fucking did it,” she laughed softly. “I know you have your portrait
upstairs, and you can actually talk to me up there but I wanted to talk to you like this. No
prying eyes or ears. No one else can understand why we did what we did, can they? Why you
kept secrets? Why I let a psychopath into my head? Fuck if I know myself on that last one.”

“Oh, and Snape being one our side this whole time? Didn’t see that one coming. Kinda get
why you didn’t share that one. Greasy-haired git,” she muttered bitterly. “Though I’ll think
you’ll find I was right, he did have it out for me.”

She looked back at the castle, frowning. “And once again, the school doesn’t have a
Headmaster or a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. McGonagall will sort that out
though. Who knows, maybe in a few years’ time I’ll take it on. A quiet life I think will be
best for all of us, don’t you? It worked alright for you at any rate.”

The sun felt nice against cheeks as it peaked out over the treeline, and Harry knew it
wouldn’t be long before someone came looking for her. It was all part of being the Chosen
One, she guessed. “Well, sir,” she groaned as she pulled herself up to her full height. “I’d best
be getting back before the fan club descends. You know how it is.”

She paused and placed a single kiss against the marble lid of the tomb. “Goodbye, sir.”

With tears in her eyes, she left the white marble tomb and embarked on the small rowboat
back to the shore.
----

The grass felt good against her skin as she laid down on the banks of the Black Lake, staring
up at the sky. She was exhausted, but knew that she wouldn’t be able to rest for long before
someone needed something from her. It felt good to just breathe for a moment.

“Knew I’d find you here.”

Harry glanced oved to find Draco standing over her, a fond smile on his lips. “Thought you’d
gone,” she murmured.

“I did,” he grunted as he sat down beside her. “But something brought me back.”

“The ambiance of the battlefield?” she drawled.

“Always so pedantic, darling. How you feeling anyway?”

Harry pursed her lips. “Strange. I mean, what do I do now? Voldemort’s dead. Dumbledore’s
dead. Now what? And I bet you, someone up there will be expecting me to know the answer
to that.”

“Well, that’s up to you. The world is your proverbial oyster. But if you’re open to it, I can
take you back home. There you can wash and eat something. Then you will sleep, and I
promise you that no one will disturb you. Though you may want to tell Granger and Weasley
where you’ve gone in case the powers that be think we’ve kidnapped you.”

Laughing softly, Harry leaned against him and nuzzled her head against his shoulder. “That
sounds nice.”
 Ordinary World
Chapter Notes

And that's a wrap! I'm so glad so many of you have loved this fic and hopefully I have
some more Drarry or Tomarry fics to come in the future <3

The water from the shower washed away the dirt and grime from the last few days, swirling
around the drain before disappearing forever. Harry had never felt so relieved to be clean in
her life, not even after she had swum in the Black Lake or after a nightmare of Voldemort
touching her. She ran her hands along her wet hair, slicking it back against her scalp before
turning the shower off. She stepped out the shower and straight into Draco’s waiting arms as
he held out a warm freshly-laundered towel for her. without a word, Draco cleaned and
returned her glasses to her face before leaving her in the bathroom alone. Harry wiped the
condensation from the steamed-up mirror to examine her reflection. She hadn’t dared look
before she got into the shower, and now she could see exactly the affect the battle had taken
on her. Most notably, was the change to her scar. Tracing her fingertips along the length of it,
she examined the way that it had expanded in length. No longer the simple zig-zag of a
cartoon lightning bolt, now it branched out down to her eyebrow like a storm had raged
across her forehead. Considering how dark and twisted her mind had been for the past few
years, she would have to agree with that analogy. Pursing her lips, she decided it wasn’t the
worse scar she could carry and began to dry her hair.

She emerged from the bathroom to find the bed folded down and a pair of her favourite green
pyjamas laid out for her. Draco smiled at her as he stoked the fire on the far side of the room,
turning away for a moment whilst she changed. He only turned around when the rustling of
clothing had stopped, and he found her rubbing her eyes tiredly at the foot of the bed.

“Feel better?” he murmured and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She nodded and wrapped her arms around his middle. “I feel clean.”

“Well, that’s a start. Now, lets get you into bed. We don’t want you keeling over during the
victory parade.”

“Do wizards even have parades?” Harry huffed as she followed him onto the bed.

Draco shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of, but you always have been a trailblazer, darling.”

Harry hummed, burrowing herself under the duvet and waited patiently for him to slide in
next to her. She threw an arm over his waist and nuzzled her face into his chest. “It’s gonna
be hell tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“If by that you mean the arse-lickers and reporters will be descending on you for the story of
how you won the war, yes. But it is nothing we cannot handle. We survived Fifth Year when
everyone thought you were crazy, remember? Now you’re the golden child again.”

Groaning into his chest, she grumbled, “I can’t decide if it’s worse when they hate me or
not.”

Draco laughed softly and fluffed his pillow, “Well, at least when they love you they send
gifts.”

Harry hummed in agreement. “Well, I could always use some new trainers. Mine have
literally been through hell.”

“I’ll make sure to put some feelers out.”

With a final chuckle, he kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, Harry following his lead.
Then for the first time in a long time, Harry went to sleep with the knowledge that Lord
Voldemort couldn’t invade her dreams anymore.

----

It was a normal day at the Ministry of Magic. It was as if the war had never happened, save
for a few cosmetic changes, the Ministry building was more or less the same. There had been
a massive restructuring post-war as Death Eaters and their sympathisers had been thrown out
of office and imprisoned. The most notable arrest had been that of Dolores Umbridge as that
had brought its own personal set of onlookers from Hogwarts, headed by the Girl Who Lived
herself. Dolores Umbridge had all but been dragged from her office by Aurors, demanding to
speak to the Minister when her eyes fell on Harry Potter. She had met the furious green eyes
of the other witch and her cries had fallen silent. It had taken a while, but now the Ministry
flourished once again with its usual noise and bustle. In-between the wizards and witches
going about their business, a small blonde boy ran between them before coming to a halt at
the base of the fountain. He gazed up at the fountain in awe, his young eyes wide with
wonder.

“Sweetheart, what have I told you about running off like that?”

He behind him to find a young woman with shoulder-length black hair and beautiful green
eyes behind a pair of black-framed glasses. She wore steel-tipped Doc Martins and a battered
old leather jacket with an amber phoenix brooch pinned to the lapel. Harriet Potter hadn’t
changed much since her Hogwarts days, and even then her scar was still as good as a
nametag these days. Stretched down to her eyebrow, it was still visible against her makeup.

“But, Auntie Harry, I found it. Just like you said,” he pouted.

With a reassuring smile, Harry took hold of the boy’s hand and looked up at the new statue
that had replaced the old fountain. A golden phoenix stood proudly above their heads; its
wings spread as it sat atop a large pillar. Around the pillar had the names of those lost during
Voldemort second rise to power. Harry still felt uneasy seeing it, despite having been a part of
its making. Maybe it was the reminder of what it had replaced, or maybe it was the sheer size
of it that proved just how many had been lost because of Voldemort.

“Are Mummy and Daddy on there too?”

“Yeah, they are,” she murmured. “And do you remember why we designed a phoenix?”

“Because we rose from the ashes to start again.”

Harry smiled softly, “That’s right. Just like Dumbledore wanted us to.”

“You’re not giving the lad another history lesson, are you?” a voice drawled from behind
them. “Honestly, there won’t be a point in him taking History of Magic at this rate.”

They turned around to find Draco standing behind them, dressed in an Armani suit beneath
his robes and carrying a large briefcase. Teddy instantly launched himself into the man’s
arms. “Uncle Draco!”

Draco grumbled as he tried to adjust the child in his arms without dropping him. “I missed
you too, kid.” He looked over Teddy’s shoulder to smile at Harry. “Thought they were off to
the Lakes this week.”

“They were, then this one decided that he’d much rather spend all his godmother’s money
than visit Beatrix Potter’s house,” she smiled fondly. “Andy and Ted said they’d be back
Sunday night.”

“Is that so? Well then, I guess its only fair if I pay for pizza. What do you say, buddy?”

Teddy nodded frantically as Draco lowered him back to the floor. The blonde man then
kissed Harry softly, much to the boy’s disgust. “How was your day?” Harry asked, keeping
one eye on the boy.

“I’ll say this for Granger, she’s meticulous,” he muttered dryly. “Two hours going over her
talking points on werewolf rights.”

Harry snickered, adjusting his tie slightly. “We did warn you what she’d be like. This is the
same woman who made me open a secret organisation and hexed the sign-up sheet in case of
anyone blabbed.”

“And as her campaign manager, I can spin that into a resourceful and cautious individual. But
right now, I want to go home, order pizza and enjoy my weekend.” He leaned forward to
whisper, “Maybe let my frustrations out a little.”

“Oh really? What about our charge?”

Draco kissed her again. “I’m sure my mother wouldn’t mind watching him for an hour or
two. You know how much she wants grandkids.”

Harry laughed softly, “I think she’d prefer you make an honest woman out of me first.”
Something flickered in his eyes that Harry knew all too well. It was the look Draco made
when he was already two steps ahead of whatever idea she had. “I’m sure she would. Come
on, let’s go home.”

With one final glance to the memorial, she turned her attention back to Draco and Teddy. She
clasped her hand in his and watched her fellow wizards and witches pass her by. Purebloods,
half-bloods and Muggleborns, all going about their daily mundane lives. The Daily Prophet
stand sold stories that were mildly interesting at the least, but no more tales of disappearances
or deaths made the front pages. Everything was normal, as if there had never been a Dark
Lord that had nearly destroyed the country. Harry found it all slightly unnerving to witness.

As Teddy raced ahead of them, despite Draco’s protests to slow down, Harry couldn’t help
but smile. The world might have changed, but as she looked back at the man that she loved,
the man she had almost lost to the war, she knew it had changed for the better.
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