Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the novels by J K Rowling etc.

Warning: This chapter contains mild gore. Also Hamlet spoilers I guess.

Chapter 14 - In Beds of Roses and Bones

Despite his best intentions Harry ended up not paying as much attention to the Durmstrang quidditch practice like he had planned. To say he was paying any attention after the twenty minute mark would also have been a lie.

Instead he had been laid fast asleep on a bench for the past hour, high up in single a box of the quidditch stands alone. The book he had been reading rested on chest, rising and falling with each expired breath.

"Hey sleepy-head, wake up." A voice awoke Harry with a finger pushed into his cheek.

Harry opened one eye. Readjusting his glasses he looked up at the woman stood over him. "Miss Vanity?"

It was hard to see her with the dark pitch being lit up by the conjured lights floating above the stands. For a brief moment she was nothing but a silhouette. On the ground he could see the Durmstrang team were heading into the changing rooms.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Emma Vanity gave him a warm smile. "And I've told you, call me Emma." She was dressed in a deep red dress and a heavy cloak, it was slightly disorientating to see her not in quidditch robes.

"What are you doing here?" He asked dumbly. If practice was over for Durmstrang it must have been nearing nine. It was the first day of the winter holidays and a Saturday. So there was no reason for her to be in the castle.

"Aurora invited me round for a drink, since we're old school friends we felt a good catch up was needed. Hagrid met me at the main gate and mentioned he saw you coming up here so I thought I would drop by and check in on you. Low and behold I catch you slacking." She sat down next him, revealing a long leg through the slit of her dress.

"Not really slacking, I just didn't have much to observe that's all." Harry grumbled.

The quidditch star briefly gave him an unconvinced look. "Krum didn't showcase anything at all?"

He shook his head. "Not a thing. He was mostly managing the team with their instructor, such a waste of time."

I suppose I don't mind if it means he's taking me seriously as competition. Harry thought while rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Emma nodded sympathetically. "So you decided to take nap? Well, I can't fault your logic."

As she spoke pulled out a silver case from her cloak and from the case she took a single cigarette, placing it in her mouth and lighting it with a click of her fingers.

"Don't you wizard and witches know they're bad for you?" Harry raised his chin and cast her an odd look.

The older witch just threw her head back and laughed. "Not magical cigarettes Harry." She inhaled and then blew out green smoke in the shape of a unicorn into his face.

It smelled like peppermint.

"You still have much to learn. I picked these up when I was in New York not long ago, I'm being paid quite handsomely to endorse them. Want to try one?"

"I'm good thanks, must being nice being so well connected." Harry waved the now turquoise haze out of his face.

"I suppose so." The young woman shrugged before bending down to up the book that had fallen to the floor. "Hamlet? Interesting choice, you're muggle raised?" She commented holding her cigarette loosely between two of her slender fingers.

He noticed how her nails were painted a wintergreen, it was the colour of grass caught in a morning frost.

"Yeah. But it was Daphne who recommended it to me. Have you read it?" Harry yawned loudly and stretched out his arms, berating himself for falling asleep in the cold. Even with warming charms his muscles felt stiff and frozen, he was sure Fleur would reprimand him later for it if it affected him too much.

"A long time ago, too long probably" The professional seeker answered with a hint of amusement. "What did you think?"

"Hamlet pisses me off if I'm honest." Harry admitted with crooked smile.

Emma gave a good natured laugh. "How so?"

"His indecision and failure to act. It causes him more problems than he needs. Most of the time all he does is talk and think while others around him die." He shrugged.

"Well, as I understand premeditated murder isn't something that should be taken lightly." Emma chastised him.

"True, which is why I understand he needed to prove his uncle's guilt." Harry agreed, "But after that, if he was going to kill Claudius he should have done it while he had the chance but that just became a missed opportunity. He was never any closer to his goal until the very end and that was a reaction in the moment more than anything planned." Harry explained his way of thinking.

"They do say murder is a crime of passion. So, you think he should have acted sooner?"

"Not necessarily." Harry ran a hand through his hair despite the futility of it. "I think he should have chosen one path and stuck to it, rather than wavering in the middle considering the rights and wrongs of it all. He is held back by his own morality. If he had gone either way, committing regicide or not, the outcome would still have been much happier and less tragic. If Hamlet went through with the act it'd have shown that he could have made a decent king as it proved he could make the hard decisions. So it fits rather well that he managed kill Claudius for his own personal reasons but died in the process, one of his biggest concerns was living with the guilt of it anyway."

"Clever little boy aren't you, but the throne wasn't even his desire."

Harry ignored the irritation of being called little. "No it wasn't, but seeing as the throne was rightfully his the ends would have been the same. Either he could step up and take the crown for the good of Denmark or fall. Claudius would have tried to have him assassinated at some other point anyway, on a subconscious level I think he knew those were his only two options."

"It is a good job you weren't the writer or the tale would have been much less interesting." Emma gave a long sigh and leant back.

Harry grinned but said nothing he couldn't really argue, instead he clasped his hands and breathed into them.

"And what of his mental state? Do you think he was really mad in the end or was it just an act? Many have interpreted it differently." The witch cast him another curious glance as she exhaled a bird taking flight into the darkness.

"Hard to say. From his perspective it's pretend, something he uses to hide behind and excuse the guilt he feels. At some point I think the act of madness became a reality to him. He clearly becomes more unstable as the play goes on."

"Oh? I felt he was quite unstable from the beginning." Emma grinned with mirth.

Harry nodded. "Seeing the ghost at the start could well have just been a hallucination, his unspoken desire manifesting itself before Hamlet, urging him forward. If that's the case he really was insane before it all even started. If you look at the way he treated Ophelia though, he says he loved her but he treated her like shit. There is no sense in that I think."

"Language Harry." The quidditch player warned him. "Have you considered that he really did love her but may just have been pushing her away in order to protect her from the terrible deed he was planning?" She silently agreed with him but enjoyed playing devil's advocate.

"If he truly loved her he would have confided in her. Not once did he really treat her as an equal." Harry replied with a shake of his head and a bitter smile.

"At that time men did not treat women as equals, nor do they rarely now. Illuminating thoughts my dear." Emma pursed her smiling lips and tilted her head. "We should probably head up to the castle before you catch a cold you've been up here far too long already. Aren't you freezing?"

Harry chuckled and checked his second-hand watch. "Yeah I am."

She was right, time always seemed to be slipping right past him. He stood and followed her down the steps of the stands making their way towards the castle. Emma seemed to wobble slightly on her heels and used Harry to support herself.

"Speaking of the fairer sex though." Emma announced suddenly. "I was speaking with Hooch yesterday after practice, she received a letter concerning our little Daphne. It appears she won't be joining us on the team anymore. Shame... I really liked that girl as well."

Harry turned to see the witch frowning. "Do you know why? I was told there wasn't anything seriously wrong with her." He asked, a little annoyed that he was still getting so concerned about her. It was still grating on him.

"It's not her health," Emma answered, interrupting his train of thought. "the letter was from her father. Physically speaking she's perfect, high endurance and stamina, strong bones and muscles too. Much fitter than most witches and wizards I've seen, unlike you boy. Naturally I would assume her family is quite demanding of her. They probably feel quidditch is a waste of her time."

"That's a little harsh…" Harry said sadly.

With all the studying she had apparently done before Hogwarts Harry wasn't surprised. He wondered what kind of people they were, Daphne never talked about them much other than that fateful night on the astronomy tower. Though Harry realised he had never really asked. He didn't like to pry, nor did he did he want to appear like he was pining for something he didn't have. When Daphne did mention family it was usually of her sister or mother.

"That's just how some pureblood families are. Still a lady can't complain, I'll have you all to myself now." She teased lightly.

Harry clicked his tongue. "It's no wonder you're friends with Sinestra, you're as bad as eachother."

"You should come join us! There'll be elfish wine we may persuaded to let you have a glass." Emma said in a musical tone. "And Aurora has told me how fond she is of you."

"That's not even funny. Do I need to remind you underage drinking is illegal." Though that did nothing from stopping some of the older students when the occasion called for it as Harry had recently witnessed. Harry had already seen the many wondrous effects of alcohol and couldn't say he was enticed by its taste or influence.

The witch gave a him a wink and in hushed voice whispered. "We won't tell."

"Well, I'm booked up until curfew tonight. It's also against school rules and I'm on thin ice as it is, so maybe another time." Harry rubbed his eyes. Whether Emma was joking or not the thought of being pinned between those two was almost too much for him.

Emma pouted. "You don't let a lady down easy do you?"

"Maybe if you acted more like an adult I'd be less happy to disappoint." He sent her a half hearted smirk.

"That's very cold of you Harry, you'll never get a girlfriend acting like that you know." She breathed into his ear.

Harry knew the smell of whiskey when it hit him. "You're impossible. You stopped off at the Three Broomsticks on the way up didn't you?" He asked.

Emma could tell he wasn't feigning annoyance as they passed the northern towers.

"Well I do live in Hogsmeade Harry, and it's nearly Christmas - I just got swept up by the mood in there. But you're right, how very irresponsible of me." She laughed again. "I can't believe I'm scolded by a school boy, this is a low point even for me. Oh and before I forget, we finally have the dates set for the quidditch matches." Emma elbowed him happily. "That's good news right?"

The two of them turned a corner under an archway and saw there were still lots of people hanging around the transfiguration courtyard. Some were socialising with the foreign students, sticking closely together under the shelter of the cloister.

Fred and George though, along with many others, were still in the middle of the snowball fight Harry witnessed them initiate when he journeyed down to the quidditch pitch.

The battle being waged showed no signs of stopping soon either. It looked as if every house and every school was involved somehow.

"Shouldn't that have been the first thing you told me? You're priorities as my coach are all over the place. I'm beginning to wonder how you even got this job." Harry smiled and turned to face the woman beside him.

"Enough of your pertness Harry, I'm being serious now." Her wide spread grin told Harry otherwise. "Lucky for us Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will be facing each other first on the tenth of January. On the second of March it will be us against the loser of that match and the final will be early May. Are you excited?" Emma wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close.

"I'm shaking in my shoes." Harry said wryly. "If Beauxbatons are going against Durmstrang first that's good for us though."

"Mhm." Emma nodded. "I'm not a betting woman but it's more than likely Durmstrang will make quick work of them from what I just saw they are looking very strong, if that happens we'll then face Beauxbatons. Ah it's good to have the home advantage in a three team bracket."

"Good, if we beat Beauxbatons in that game we don't have to play catch up." Harry nodded with a smile.

"We'll still need to keep an eye on the point differences. Assuming we do win against Beauxbatons worst case scenario Krum gets the snitch before you in the final. Our chasers just need to rack enough goals to make that redundant."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. It isn't it your job to make sure that doesn't happen?"

"No no, it's your job to make sure that doesn't happen. It is my job to make sure you can do your job to the best of your ability! I said worst case scenario though didn't I? You're excellent Harry, good enough to go professional if you want -"

"But we can't ignore the fact Krum is a world class player, got it. So as a backup plan what we want is a repeat of the world cup?" Harry laughed. "That'll really be rubbing salt in the wound for Krum if we do that."

"Minus the mark and Death Eaters hopefully, my what a disaster that was." Emma agreed.

"Impossible with Karkaroff and Snape lurking around." Harry said quietly.

"My dear Harry, you're too young be thinking so cynically. You'll be getting wrinkles before I do." Emma kept her arm around him as they climbed a staircase.

"You have loads of time before that'll happen anyway. You and Sinistra still look like you're in your twenties at least."

And you act like you're still teenager most of the time as it is.

"Well, just one of the many perks of being well bred." She grinned.

Harry smiled back quite amused. He wondered if being a celebrated quidditch star was the reason for such a carefree attitude. Being in her thirties would be pushing it for most sportspersons in the muggle world, those rules didn't seem to apply to magicals.

"Miss Vanity. Is this really appropriate behavior to be displaying in a school?" The long unimpressed drawl announced the presence of the Hogwarts potions master.

"Sev how lovely to see you!" Emma replied, her tone so obviously false she nearly made Harry choke.

Damn, it's like I called him myself. Harry made a mental note never to say his name out loud again lest the potion master appear out of his own shadow.

"Perhaps you find impressionable students and troublemakers more relatable than your own peers, nevertheless the message you are sending is quite simply unacceptable." Severus Snape tooks the steps down towards them slowly, one by one, his long black robes sweeping behind him. His tone was sour, loathe to even acknowledge Harry's existence.

Snape's dark beady gaze narrowed down his hooked nose at Harry and the hold Emma had around his arm.

"Hardly Severus, it's not like I'm faculty, your rules don't apply to me. Besides Harry is my protege after all, there's nothing wrong with him being a good young gentleman and helping me up these stairs. The grand staircase in these heels is an absolute nightmare, I don't even know how to begin to describe the sheer pain my toes have gone through just getting up to the castle already." Emma pulled Harry closer as if to antagonise the Slytherin head of house further.

For a moment Harry thought she was about to stick her tongue out at him. He was thankful she didn't, it would have only made things worse on him.

"Is that so?" Snape said through gritted teeth.

"Perchance do you have a potion for blisters-"

"No I do not. Best you both be on your way to where you are heading and quickly. Potter, I'd advise you against letting an amoral woman such as this influence your already ill-mannered behaviour."

Harry fought off an angry scowl. "I'll do my best, professor. But I think we both know I'm a lost cause."

Snape looked like he was about to argue. The result was a twitch in his eye and the flaring of nostrils. "Move along now. Or your cheek will land you detentions cleaning every trace of rat's blood out of my storeroom until the new year." Snape warned with a trademark hiss.

"We would be on our way Severus, but you seem to be taking up the staircase." Emma coughed and moved her head side to side like she was trying to peer past him to no avail.

Harry could almost hear Snape grinding his teeth as he swept past them like a passing shadow.

"That... was brilliant." Harry finally said as they climbed another floor.

"I don't like to brag Harry, but that man really doesn't like you does he?" Emma tapped her jaw briefly looking back.

Harry shook his head. "Never has, not since my first day. I look to much like my dad."

"I can't believe a grown man would hold a grudge for such a long time. I suppose your eyes only makes things worse."

"My eyes?" Harry frowned, a little confused by the comment.

"Oh," Emma sighed. "Everyone must love telling you how much you look like James, but-"

"But I have my mother's eyes..." Harry finished. She was right about that, everyone loved to remind him about how much they saw his parents in him. "Why would Snape be bothered by my eyes? Did you know them? My parents..."

"Not personally sorry Harry. I was a year lower and I was a Slytherin so we didn't have much to with each other. Though James was something like a quidditch rival when we were both captains during my sixth year. I didn't want to say anything of it, it'd only feel like I was using their memory as a means of getting close to you. I have too much respect for those that gave their lives in that war to do something so callous." Emma explained, growing rather sad.

Harry wondered if there was someone she had lost, he could see she was pained in someway.

"But I knew Severus though…" She added thoughtfully with an unreadable expression.

Harry was about to ask her more but realised they were already approaching the sixth floor. "This is me." He mumbled, breaking away from her. "Enjoy your evening and say hello to Professor Sinestra for me."

"That I shall, and merry christmas to you Harry." She smiled back at him.

"Oh yeah, Merry christmas." Harry answered.

After a short walk and clearing his head a little Harry sheepishly entered the classroom he and Fleur had been using for their time together.

The first thing he saw was her sat cross legged on the floor, eyes closed. There was slight sheen of sweat on her brow from concentration and swirling around the french witch was a silver mist looking like it was about to take shape.

When the door shut behind him she opened her eyes "Arry?"

The silver mist evaporated.

"Sorry I'm a bit late." Harry scratched the back of his head. "I got a little held up."

Fleur waved him off nonchalantly. "It's okay, I was just practicing my patronus."

"Any progress?" He lifted his gaze at her.

They had several dancing lessons and session practicing the charm. Unfortunately only one had been going better than the other.

"At most just a shield for ze time being." She answered with a small pout. Not that she would admit it but it was a much stronger shield than what she had been producing before they started.

Harry couldn't help a small chuckle at her knotted expression. "Still thinking those happy thoughts?"

Fleur nodded.

"I see. Next chance we get I want to you to stop using the memory and concentrate more on the feeling and emotions behind it." Harry thought carefully before continuing. He was reminded of the night he had first managed to perform the spell to its fullest.

"That feeling can't just be generic happiness it has to be more powerful - it should fill you up completely. I suppose first you need to understand why that memory makes you happy... I'm probably not explaining this very well am I?" Harry chewed his tongue and rubbed his neck in discomfort.

His own experience had led him to hold onto something that was not held in the past but the future. A future with Sirius away from Privet Drive, with a man he could choose to call family.

Fleur shook her head and smiled reassuringly. "I zink I understand you, magic is after all driven by will."

He knew exactly what the emotion he was trying to tell Fleur to look for was, but he could not yet bring himself to say it. He was still just a teenager, there was absolutely no way he could bring up that subject with a girl like Fleur and not die of embarrassment. At that moment just thinking it was turning his ears pink.

Harry looked down to the floor and tried to focus on something else. "You know, when I first did it I was under a lot of pressure so it was do or die for. It might help to try and recreate those conditions as much as possible… I'll get onto finding a boggart for you to practice on, that should help I think."

"A boggart?"

"Uh yeah... my boggart takes the form of a dementor. That's how my professor taught me last year, I'd practice most weekends with him."

To fear fear itself. Fleur thought and remembered something Hermione had first said to her.

She shook her head causing her long silver hair to shimmer faintly, her curiosity would have to wait. She turned to the table she had been sitting on and with a wave of her wand she transfigured it into a grand piano.

"Shall we get started zen? We do not 'ave as much time as we normally do."

"I'm almost sad." Harry grinned and strode into the middle of the room.

Taking up promenade position, Fleur came up to him with graceful steps and allowed him to wrap one hand around her waist and with the other take her hand in his.

He still wasn't quite used to being so close to her. As the scent of treacle fudge and something fragrant like a garden in spring encompassed him. He resisted the urge to boast about killing a basilisk two years prior. He imagined most of the boys in the school would be willing to chop off their right hand to stand in her proximity let alone touch her.

"Un, deux, troi." Fleur counted them in, the music began to play and they started to move.

Harry remained mindful of his feet, but no longer needed to look down to make sure he didn't tread on her toes.

"You've gotten so much better since last week." Fleur commented as they turned in time to the music.

"You make it easy for me, Rachelle wasn't lying when she said you're a natural. I don't even get dizzy anymore."

Fleur grinned proudly as they came out of a reverse turn, she had turned a disaster into a semi-competent dancer in all but a few sessions. He could do the basic box-step, a three step waltz with ease and now Harry could even pivot, lock and corte with her without much difficulty.

"'Arry are you feeling alright?" Fleur asked him. "You seem more distracted zan usual."

"Do I?" Harry's voice craaked a little.

The french witch nodded with half a smile.

"I'm just a bit tired that's all."

Fleur nodded slowly, she could tell it was a white lie. "Would you rather we did zis tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not. Or are you trying to get me alone to yourself again?" He joked easily.

"Could be zat, you shall never know mon amie." She returned a smirk back at him.

"So is there anything you can't do besides a patronus?"

"'Arry are you asking me zat as a champion and competitor or out of natural curiosity?" Fleur tutted.

"Hm a bit of both maybe?"

Fleur's laughter rang in his ear. "Zen I shall 'ave to decline answering zat, tonight 'Arry focus on your footwork. We 'ave plenty of time to get to know one another zis coming year no?"

If someone had told him a week ago he'd be dancing with the quarter veela like this he would have laughed at them told them they were mad and walked away.

As much as Harry didn't feel like dancing during their evenings Fleur still made it enjoyable. It was easy being around her, he didn't even mind if that was some natural side effect of being part veela.

He quickly began to look forward to their nights together and even more so the calmness she left him with after.

The Greengrass estate or Windmarsh Court as it was named in the nineteenth century was a large section of land hidden by thirty acres of forest and surrounding fields. The magical old country home had many protections to prevent any unwanted visitors without the need of a fidelius charm.

Even if a wizard had been before the path to the house would not exist without a member of the Greengrass family or one of their vassals. It was whispered among the elite pureblood social circles to be one of the most well guarded and secluded homes in Britain and no one outside the family had even laid eyes on the ancestral home.

This was of course not entirely true, Daphne thought.

The witch was completely still. Lost in thought by the piano, bathing in the swath of moonlight that poured in through the window. She almost preferred it as it was now, undisturbed by anyone, empty of sound and warmth and light, imprisoned on all sides by untouched snow.

She took in a deep breath and touched the ivory keys of the piano before delicately pressing down.

The singular tone she created began sad and gentle, a crisp resonance escaping into the drawing room. The soft sound was a lie. It served as nothing more than a false foundation to build from.

With swift fingers she immediately turned the music into something aggressive. In a flurry of cold notes the piano rang and rang and rang. The young witch permitted herself a cruel smile. Matching her bitterness, those few gentle reverberations continued to be eclipsed by her warring nature. The ringing did not subside.

It was true, she was becoming rather capricious, but she could not help herself. In the same breath she was also conflicted by her own actions. She had thought she had been so certain of her goals and her reasoning behind them. Make alliances, strengthen bonds, keep Draco alive and wait for the storm. Then the real work could begin.

Harry Potter hadn't changed that, of course she should have foreseen that much. But since she had come to her decision to take action he had become all she could really think about.

The sound deviated again, the tempo quickening and lulling like an irregular tide. The opposing tones the keys made were consoling the other, it was as if the music too was conflicted by its own intentions. But in the end, like herself, it could only impede the dominating half by so much.

There was no reasonable explanation she could think of for what she feeling other that she had underestimated his character twice now.

Old Ones damn him, All Mother damn him. Morgana damn him.

He could be as quick witted as obstinate, both awkward and charismatic when he tried. But undeniably he was rash and deep down he was volatile. An undesirable combination and yet she found herself becoming attached to the boy.

Walking contradictions, what a pair we are.

As she continued to play every time the keys grew too joyful and sweet she rebuked herself back to the dark cascade of ringing notes.

She realised Harry was in need of balance, she hadn't counted on how much Ron Weasley grounded him, instilling values of working class wizarding society and acting in the interests of Gryffindor as a house. Even if they were false ideals he had provided Harry a rationality and standard point of view that Granger simply couldn't hope to match.

Without Weasley, Harry was now a true outcast untethered to anyone's outlook but his own. She imagined that must be quite freeing for him. But like a feral animal when threatened he either seeks an escape or lashes out.

Daphne shook her head. He truly did have an awful personality. Unrefined would be the optimal word, the worst part was it reminded the witch much of herself, especially her younger self. Control was such an essential yet inconvenient practice.

When did I become such a hypocrite? She thought with another bitter smile.

At least she had occlumency exercises to help her in that respect, she doubted the mind arts could assist him like it did her, though without knowing what he kept locked up in his mind she again couldn't be certain. It was the sheer amount of unknowns he presented that was the cause of her frustation.

As she lost herself in thought of how she could best help the boy with black hair, she missed the sound of the drawing room door opening. When she became aware of the presence behind her Daphne's playing ceased. She turned to the figure who had crept up on her so expertly.

"Don't stop because of me, it's been a far too long time since I've heard you play."

The fire place breathed with life, flames suddenly igniting from the black coals. Daphne's mother was sat in her armchair watching her daughter with large blue eyes.

Lady Johanna Greengrass, golden blonde hair and tall was almost everything a pureblooded witch, wife and mother should aspire to be, almost. She was a true enchantress in every sense of the word.

"I don't play for audiences." Daphne said abruptly standing up from the piano. Revealing the short tattered nightdress she was wearing.

Johanna remained unperturbed by her daughter's barefooted and unkempt appearance. "Nor do you ever play without accompanying Tracey," Her mother smiled with fondness.

"Well, she isn't here right now."

"No she is not." Lady Johanna said sadly and rose from her seat. "How are you adjusting?"

"Well enough, thank you mother." Daphne answered kindly.

"Come closer and let me see you." The older witch instructed.

Daphne obeyed, stepping forward directly in front of her mother. Johanna lifted Daphne's chin seeing her colourless eyes staring back at her like chips of ice. "Beautiful." She murmured, caressing Daphne's cheek with a curled finger. "How I have missed you Daphne and you've grown again."

"If you are quite done…" Daphne pulled away from her. She thought back to the last time her mother had seen her, it would have to have been the week before the World Cup, it felt like it had been a lifetime ago.

"Yes, now why is it you are not in your tower? Did you manage to break out again?" The older woman asked curiously.

Daphne shrugged indifferently, moving to take a seat in the same armchair Johanna had just been sitting in. You are no longer the lady of this household mother.

Johanna's lips pulled into a thin smile. "Breaking the rules daughter of mine? Caelum always did favour you, but I never knew he could be this bias."

"Overlining duties and conflicting interests will do that. Are you going to tell on me mother?" Daphne's smile didn't falter. Inside though, her heart raced a little on its own accord.

"No, I am not so cruel. You know I never approved of his methods." Johanna shook her head.

"He isn't the same man you left two years ago. Not that you would care to notice."

The Greengrass matriarch didn't seem to mind her words, she had raised Daphne and knew her cutting remarks better than anyone. "My only regret is not being able to taking you with me when I did."

Daphne knew it to be true. Since their separation the only times Antares and Johanna were now seen together was at public events and family affairs. On the surface everyone still thought of them as a very happily married couple, only their daughters, Tracey and her father were brought to light on the matter.

Circumstances had been hard on the family. Daphne was the heiress to his business empire whereas Astoria was to follow their mother's footsteps. Had Johanna taken Daphne with her along with Astoria that summer before her third year, the situation would have been much different. Leaving Daphne with Antares to eventually take care of the family business while removing Astoria from the dangers of that environment had been necessary. Daphne, despite harbouring resentment for being all but abandoned, understood that her mother had made the best of the situation. Had Johanna taken her eldest too things would have ended very differently.

The young witch chewed her lip uncomfortably, a feeling of guilt weighing heavily on her chest. "Will you be staying for some tea? Or Longer?" She asked taking Johanna by surprise.

"I think I will stay seeing as your father isn't home."

"It's fortunate he won't be back until boxing day then. Hughes." Daphne called and the family's house elf dressed as a butler appeared into existence by her side. "Prepare supper for us and ready the master bedroom for mother, she'll be staying for a few days."

"As you wish Miss Daphne." The elf gave a low bow and disapparated with a pop.

"A few days?" Johanna gave her a questioning stare expecting only to be permitted the one night with her firstborn.

"You aren't busy are you?"

Almost immediately Hughes reappeared serving them a tray of tea and scones with an assortment of condiments.

"Not at all, I am just surprised you would want me here longer than necessary."

"Even now I have a right to still be angry with you, but that aside there are things we need to discuss." The young witch replied thoughtfully and rested her chin on her hand, tilting her head ever so slightly.

The Lady Johanna smiled upon hearing her request, crossing her legs and clasping her hands together. "You really have matured nicely Daphne. I expect you will be returning to Hogwarts soon now that term time is over? I know you have a distaste for formal gatherings but it would be a shame to miss an event like the Yule Ball. If I was your age and at Hogwarts I would be beside myself with excitement."

"It has already been decided that I will be returning come Christmas eve, Professor Snape and the Headmaster are aware." Daphne stared into her china cup, lazily stirring the swirling milk into the black tea. "So, I may make an appearance yet."

Amongst the thick twisted roots there was a heavy silence. The full moon high above was barely visible through the web like thicket of branches. Even in winter a forest with no life was no true forest, Sirius thought darkly.

As he padded along in the form of the grim, Sirius could hear no insect chattering into the night, no mouse or rabbit scurried along the snow covered undergrowth. Only Remus fully transformed ran ahead in search of something to prey on. His long howl shattering the preternatural silence calling solely to Sirius.

His first hope was that his friend had finally made a kill and was telling him to hurry before what meat had been found disappeared into the wolf's belly.

Remus' nightly transformations meant their searches could not be continued during the day. But without muggle or wizard anywhere near the werewolf's bloodlust was nonexistent for as long as Sirius also remained transformed. Like this he was capable of simple communication with his grim companion. While in his transformed state was still that of a beast, Remus was of no hindrance to them. Instead subconsciously his superior senses had led them exactly where they needed to be.

Sirius picked up his pace when the scent of Remus grew stronger along with something rank on the air, the same scent that had lingered within the overgrown forest since their arrival. Swiftly he jumped over fallen trees, leaving only his pawprints behind in the dirt spoiled snow. The last of the Marauders was still unaware that the end of their search was drawing closer with each bounding leap.

Finally he spotted his friend ahead in the dark. Fur covered and tall, Remus stood on his hindquarters with claws and fangs bared. Sirius slowed in his approach, panting with a lolling tongue he emerged from the shadows of the forest. The werewolf made a low rumbling growl as Sirius stepped forward next to him.

Remus had summoned him to a small clearing within the forest. Under the open sky the hewn rocks embedded in the earth marked the edge of treeline forming a stone circle and at its centre, directly beneath the light of the moon, a blackened and broken tree. Its trunk was wide and large, its branches hanging overhead and rattling in the wind.

The large black grim looked up with a worrying glance but Remus' gaze remained fixed on the hollow of the snag.

The wind changed direction and Sirius felt the attack on his nose, there was no doubting the source of its sickly presence. It was the pervasive stench of a rotted corpse.

Sirius approached slowly across the blue like snow, wary of what lied ahead. He passed the moonlit stones of the circle without thought and stepped over the protruding roots that seemed designed to ensnare.

Finally he faced the thick hollowed trunk. Inside he saw her, what was left of Bertha stuffed into that old blackened dead tree. Only empty black sockets stared back at him.

Sirius had known that if by chance they did find her it was likely she would be beyond recognising. Still he was not prepared to see her face void of any distinguishable features, that of her once lovely brown hair so few strands were left hanging from her scalp. Her flesh had all but shriveled and decayed, leaving only dried stretches of skin that would turn to dust under the lightest touch.

She sat mangled and cramped at its base where she screamed upward hopelessly and eternally in silence. And like a cradle beneath her laid the remains and skeletons of the countless creatures fallen prey to the wretched host of that hollow.

An - Again I am working without a beta so this is just the alpha at the moment.

Originally I planned for this chapter to be a bit longer, however some parts just didn't fit quiet and other scenes i just couldn't figure out. So I decided if I want to I'll add more later.

Thank you for being patient and please leave a review!