Things were supposed to be easier after Voldemort's death, Harry Potter thought glumly as he surveyed the ruins of yet another house. Instead of running away, the remaining Death Eaters were becoming bolder, their desperation making their strikes more lethal. Each night the Dark Mark floated in the night sky, dimmer though no less intimidating.

They were lucky this time. They managed to save this family, though not their home.

"We've got another call, Harry." Sighing heavily, Harry pushed his glasses back on his nose and turned to face Kingsley Shacklebolt. Beyond him, he could see his fellow Aurors staring back at him. Uncertainty was all over their faces and yet there was hope there. It wasn't enough to kill Voldemort; they still expected him to take care of everything. Harry choked down the panic rising in his throat. He couldn't afford it. After one last look at the ruined house, he Disapparated with a quiet pop.


"That will be..."

The goblin waited as the abacus finished its calculations. "One thousand galleons. Do you prefer pounds, euros, or dollars?"

Pansy Parkinson stared blankly back at him. Euros? Dollars? How was she to know which one? Her father only asked for their funds to be exchanged for Muggle money. He had said nothing about the kind of money required, nor, now that she thought about it, their destination. She supposed it was going to be some kind of foreign land, far away from all this…mess.

The delicate sound of a throat being cleared jolted her back into the present.

"I suppose euros will do," she finally decided.

"Very well, Miss Parkinson. If you'll just excuse me, I'll have to go to the vault manager to exchange the funds," the goblin declared as he stepped away.

She didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, she was standing in front of Gringott's, the entire Parkinson fortune tucked away in the bottom of her purse. A glance at the clock in the storefront across from her indicated that she was running very late. With a heavy sigh, Pansy Apparated back to her family home—

And was greeted by the loud bawling of the house elf. Pansy pressed both hands to her ears. Silly creature must've dropped the teapot again, she thought to herself as she marched off in search of the servant.

The sound of activity in the foyer made her pause. As Pansy turned the corner, she found a group of Aurors talking quietly with each other.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "You have no right—" Pansy caught sight of the damaged door, and on the floor, a shattered picture frame containing a photograph of her father and mother smiling and waving back at her.

"No!" she screamed as she rushed toward the sitting room. An Auror stepped in front of her. "Just a moment, Pansy—"

"You! This is all your fault!" she shrieked at Harry. "Why didn't you save them?

He had no answer for her.