Summary of the earlier chapter
The Ancient Families are now allies of the goblin nation. The Ancient families agreed to fight for the suffrage of goblins on the condition that they would assist them in their war against Lord Voldemort. The horcrux in Harry was removed using a painful goblin ritual. However, Lord Voldermort was aware that his horcruxes were in danger. He begins to look for them. The Ancient Families bid their final farewell to Alastor Moody. While the teenagers are relaxing in Diagon Alley, they were attacked by hundreds of Dementors. Lord Voldemort sent Harry a gift—a lynched Uncle Vernon with his message pinned on his chest.
Chapter 50: Past the Frontiers
Her heart nearly stopped when she gaze upon the feared mark of Lord Voldemort floating brazenly in the sky. Panic ensured almost immediately. Screams and cries erupted. People began scurrying in all directions: shoving, screaming, and crying.
For a moment, she felt as if she travelled back in time when she first watched a memory of her father of his experience in the previous war—the carnage, the despair and the tangible taste of fear in the air.
Her father had once told her that fear was a powerful weapon and she finally comprehended it. People were running carelessly in all directions, like a herd of frightened sheep. The frenzied crowd injured many healers when they ran over them in their frenzy to get away from the Dark mark, a mere symbol in the sky.
Fear made them blind to the fact that they were precarious instead of being in any real danger at all. The sheer power of collective fear made her shiver in fear.
It felt like an apocalypse.
It made sense. He ought to make his move against Amelia's frail and fragmented government before it grew any stronger.
Then, she saw Harry, her friend, falling on his knees. Her heart ached painfully for him.
"Aunt, you need to hurry to Diagon Alley now!" Susan was one of the first few who recovered from her shock and she called for back-up.
Why weren't the Ministry alerted initially? Their response time was usually faster.
Several 'pop's announced the entrance of the Aurors and Hit-wizards. Amelia and Kingsley had finally arrived on scene. They had impassive faces as they took charge of the situation.
Where was her father? Wasn't he with Aunt Amelia? Why wasn't he with her?
Her instinct told her that something was wrong. Lord Voldemort wouldn't expose his return without dealing a severe blow to trigger the haunting memories of the past. Was this another diversion? Was her father safe?
She quenched her rising fears.
"Clear out a space. We need to bring the injured aside. Inform the healers," yelled Amelia grimly, directing the team. She looked older than her years, with grim lines on her face as she surveyed the place. It was clear that she was experienced with such panic. "Aurors, follow me. We need to set up a perimeter." Susan and Fred joined her, jogging next to her as they updated her about the events that had taken place.
Kingsley amplified his voice with a spell and told the crowd to remain where they were. Those desperate members of the public that did not heed his advice were stunned on the spot to stop the pandemonium. The Aurors cordoned areas off so that they could make space for the healers to do their work and to maintain order at exits.
The stampede created more complications than the cloud of Dementors.
Her feet automatically brought her to Harry. Hermione had her arms around him, despite the chaos. They paid little heed to the disaster that was unfolding around them.
Her heart ached at the sight of their shared anguish.
An Auror levitated the defiled body away from the tree and zipped it in a black body bag. She nearly flinched at the sight of it—just another victim to the war.
She felt Cedric squeezing her hand gently. His gaze was tender but it held a wisp of emotions that haunted her. He leaned in, brushing his lips gently hers. With that, he parted to join the Aurors.
She expelled a breath. Her eyes lingered on her beau for a moment, watching him maintain order together with a few grateful Aurors. Neville and George jogged over to join him. Luna slipped off to lend her assistance in healing.
She was heartened to see that, because of their privileges and connections, they were even more willingly to help.
As she approached them, Hermione lifted her head to look at her. For a moment, she looked so torn—dithering between caring for Harry and attending to duties. Tonks was waiting quietly aside by the body bag, patiently waiting for either Harry or Hermione to acknowledge the body.
Harry was on his knees, unresponsive.
"I think he needs some time alone," spoke Hermione, picking herself from the ground. Her face was impassive but her eyes reflected tenderness and concern when she looked upon her husband.
Her friend was worried that he was pushing her out. She dipped her head in a nod and jerked her thumb towards Tonks. She didn't quite know how to express her concern for her companion, Susan and Luna were better at that.
Hermione picked herself from the ground, clapped her hand on her shoulders almost soothingly. She was glad that Hermione would take the time to reassure her. With a grim face, she departed swiftly to meet Tonks.
Automatically, she took the place of Hermione. She placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Harry remained motionless, as if lost in his own world.
He squeezed his eyes shut. His face was dusted with ashes in the shape of two hands gripping his face. His body tensed.
Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open.
"Harry?"
Wordlessly, Harry picked himself up. Then, he Disapparated.
Daphne shook her head, knowing there was nothing much she could do about him. Besides, Harry wouldn't do anything stupid since he prized Hermione's safety. She turned her attention to more important things like assisting the healers, instead of choosing to dwell in her thoughts.
Her knees instinctively absorbed her weight fully, so she landed on the marbled floor with a light crunch. The white glow that surrounded her and announced her arrival faded away. She righted herself gracefully, searching the area for traces of her husband. It took her a while to get used to the change of weather. A light layer of snow-covered the ground and the mansion that stood in a distance. The light sheen of snow reflected the rays of the wintry sun. Yet, the punishing cold wind made her shiver in her non-magical clothing. Hastily, she cast a warming spell on herself and the quivering stopped.
Her brows furrowed. "Ade?" called Hermione, barely raising her voice. It was unusual that she would seek her upon arrival but she was nearly going insane with worry. Harry had disappeared without a word. He had also broken his mental connection with her, a clear sign that he wanted to be alone.
After assisting Tonks in the investigation, she checked on her parents. She was too preoccupied with her rage at Riddle and need to unravel the mystery behind Vernon's death to think of her parents. They had informed her that Harry had contacted them nearly an hour ago. Her mother said that he looked relieved to see that they were well.
Hastily, she returned to the Potter's Mansion. Finding no trace of Harry, she decided to enter into the House.
"Welcome home, Hermione," returned a sweet voice. "Looking for Harry? He's in the workshop with Hedwig. "The weight in her heart lifted immediately. She breathed a sigh, ignoring the way it fogged. It would also explain the absence of his beautiful owl. "It's five House hours to an hour outside."
Hermione frowned as she mentally calculated how much time he had been hiding—Harry had locked himself in the House for slightly more than five hours. What was he doing?
Both of them had decided not to use the house for the moment since they needed to be on alert—they couldn't afford to seek sanctuary in this artificial paradise. Moreover, Edmund had implied that he was more or less completed with their training in regards to the upcoming war. He appeared to be even more tight-lipped about the upcoming events, as if afraid that a slight change in events would have massive consequences.
"Thanks, Ade. I appreciate it." Without wasting any more time, she shifted straight to him.
She found herself in a large room almost instantly. Harry was standing next to her, hammering a block of metal—it was the length of her palm and was about two centimetres thick. From the way the heated metal gleamed and the lack of interaction to other elements, she deduced that he was working with pure gold.
Beads of perspiration were on his forehead as he worked on his project, ignoring everything around him. It was as if he was trying to lose himself in his work. So focused he was on his work that Harry did not even notice her presence.
Her brows narrowed into a frown.
Surrounding his work table were remains of his previous experiments. There were rings of different materials on his desk. It was clear that he had worked for hours. Parchments littered around the room in pieces.
She picked up one of them and realised that they were his written records of what he had attempted—Harry was trying to use other forms of magic to achieve his goal.
A beautiful white snowy owl was perching on a stand nearby. Her large eyes were fixed on her owner, unblinking. She barked when she noticed her arrival. Smoothly, she spread her large wings and dived towards her, landing on Hermione's shoulder.
He has been on it for hours and he doesn't want to rest. I nearly got sliced by a weapon just now during a mock battle. It was really no big deal but he went barmy suddenly, obsessed in creating away for me to have access to his magic. He has also cut our connection. What's wrong? You smell like smoke.
Harry and Hedwig had entered the house together to train to fight. With Hedwig's swiftness, she was a good partner to Harry on the battlefield. She also acted as their eyes and ears when they needed a bird eye's view of an entire battle.
Hermione fed her a treat.Uncle Vernon is dead.
She puffed up her feathers in annoyance, looking larger. Good riddance that he's dead. He always abuses Harry. You know that he imprisoned Harry and me in his room after he returned from his first year in Hogwarts? My tears are squandered should I mourn for his death—he deserves none of my pity. She fixed a large eye on her mistress. Why is he so upset?
Hermione sent her the image of Uncle Vernon dangling in mid-air, lynched and the parchment on his chest. Grunnings was razed completely to the ground just hours ago. There was no witness. No one survived. There were traces of wards used to keep everyone in. There was a hint of sadness in her tone. Many employees had lost their lives because the Death Eaters wanted to capture one employee to make a statement.
Hedwig ruffled her feathers nonchalantly. Should I cry for every mouse that I've killed? It's natural and necessary expense to keep me alive. Death is a natural consequence in a war. Be strong of heart and keep your eyes on the goal.
Hermione's gaze became steely. "I know, "she whispered. She shuddered at the recollection of that scene. She remembered ploughing through the charred and smoky ground, with Tonks by her side. The Bobbies were examining the scorched bodies trying to determine their identity. The place had reeked of death, destruction and smoke.
She understood the fear that the Death Eaters had encouraged during the first war. She blinked away the tears that brimmed when she thought that it might be her parents' burnt body she might find.
She had to take comfort that the Death Eaters wouldn't think too highly of a Muggleborn like her to target her parents. In light that the four most wealthiest and powerful families had already declared their stand against him, Riddle wouldn't dare to invade the Non-magical world unless it would deal a severe blow to the Ancient Families.
The non-magical police had dubbed it as a freak accident.
Harry pounded the gold block even more furiously, as if it had offended him. It was now flattered into a thin strip. They had used that element before and it did not yield as much results as they have expected. To her astonishment, he stopped suddenly, whipping out a sharp dagger.
"Harry…"
Without hesitation, he sliced the skin of one of his fingers, letting his blood drip on the metal strip. The metal absorbed his blood immediately and gleamed. He began chanting in the goblin tongue, speaking the words to strengthen the metal as he pounded with his hands. Then, he switched to the tongue of the house elf, creating the magical connection between the metal strip and his magical core. Then, he spoke an old spell to amplify magic and allow the metal strip to become a focus.
Hermione gasped at the ingenuity. House elves, upon bonding, would create a special magical connection with their masters so that they could tap on the magic of their hosts. However, this ability was given through a spell casted ages ago. She assumed that he might have approached Charles for the incantation.
That's new; remarked Hedwig thoughtfully. He was using only goblin's chants and spells to create the rings just now.
It was starting to cool down again, turning into a silvery colour. Suddenly, he bathed the mental strip with flames from his hand. The flames were so hot that the metal began to soften and glow. Quickly, he shaped it into a small ring as he continued chanting in the goblin's tongue.
Hermione doused the burning ring with two jets of water and it cooled rapidly into a small silver ring. Hermione was wondering about the magical possibilities of what Harry had done when she heard the mental yell.
"Harry!"
Harry wobbled unsteadily on his feet, before crashing on the ground. Hermione was quick to grab him around his waist as Hedwig took flight to safety. He had completely exhausted himself from creating the ring. Wandlessly, Hermione conjured a bed by the workable and heaved him into it so that he could rest properly. She healed the cut on his finger carefully.
Harry was completely knocked-out, slumbering. She watched him as his chest rise and fell evenly, concerned for his welfare. Gently, so that she would not wake him up, she ran her hand through his soft black hair.
She resented the emotional torture he had to go through for being chosen. If they had a choice, she would whisk all that she loved away from harm. However, she knew them. The Ancient families were too proud and too devoted to consider leaving an option.
She breathed a sigh, knowing it was true of her. She shook her head, unwillingly to be so pessimistic. Menial labour was what she needed to clear her mind.
Oswald was beyond furious. He prowled up and down his large and lush office, like a caged tiger. The magically-modified CCTVs he had chosen to develop and install in the headquarters of all his major holdings turned out to be useful.
Just a mere half-hour after the incident at the Diagon Alley, saboteurs were discovered in the premises, attempting to make trouble in the research building. The Magically-modified CCTVs picked up the heat of the three disillusioned men and alerted the guards who were on duty. Instantly, the guards were deployed to take them by force and put them in holding sites. They were werewolves who underwent a special training course under Amelia when she was out of the Ministry. The team, in turn, alerted him.
That course was now run by trained werewolves for the other werewolves so that they could be employed to serve the Ministry or large private companies that could afford their services. On days that they were affected by their condition, they were replaced by extra shifts of wizards. However, they made a good security team with their enhanced senses, endurance and physical prowess.
His only consolation was that the teenagers were alright. As expected, they were in the thick of things. The teenagers, under the leadership of Harry, were quick to deal with the hordes of Dementors. It spoke well of Harry's leadership and his teaching skills. He was relieved to know that they could handle themselves well. It would ease his mind when they returned to Hogwarts.
He sat in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table pensively, wondering just what Riddle was up to. It was difficult to predict a pattern from the manner he was attacking. Out of caution, he was going to look through all the blueprints of the buildings that he owned to work on their security.
In hindsight, he decided to inform Daily Prophet of the foiled attempt of sabotage, in an attempt to lighten the situation. He hoped that it would lessen the blow on Amelia's government, knowing how Malfoy's camp would seize this opportunity to undermine her authority.
It took Hermione a while to clean up the room by hand. She took the opportunity to take a quick shower, knowing that she smelt of smoke. Harry remained sleeping throughout. She expelled a sigh, gently combing her hand through his unruly hair. Though he was slumbering, Harry was still frowning. Tenderly, she pressed her lips on his forehead before turning her attention to the ring. Curious, she picked up the finished product—the ring that Harry painstakingly created. It was no different from their previous attempts.
Yet, it felt different to her.
Do you think I should try? Asked Hedwig. She cocked her head, staring at the ring inquisitively.
Hermione shot a glance at her sleeping husband then made her decision. She expanded the ring slightly and slipped it past her talons and toes so that it would rest on her thin and feathered tarsus. The ring magically adjusted itself to fit her.
Hedwig hopped carefully on the table, pushing her large head between her feet to eye the ring carefully.
Hermione could sense her confusion and her curiosity.
"Try recalling some of the applications of magical theory. Try a simple charm like levitation?" offered Hermione when she realised that Hedwig was waiting for her to guide her. "Try levitating that book?"
Hermione held her breath, hoping that this would be the breakthrough that they were waiting for.
The snowy owl turned her attention to the book she was pointing out. It was a slim tome, sitting innocently on the work desk a few paces away. She dipped her head in acknowledgement and became still.
Anxiously, Hermione waited, fixing her eyes on the book.
Minutes passed and the book remained unmoved.
Relentlessly, Hedwig cast the spell. It echoed through their link as she repeated it.
Almost miraculously, the book jerked up an inch before collapsing back on the table.
Unable to contain her joy, she let out a shout. "It worked! It worked!" She danced around the table, hugging the beautiful Snowy owl to her chest. Hedwig was too stunned to react.
"Mione?" questioned Harry groggy, lifting himself from the bed. He rubbed his eyes sleepily as he took in his environment.
Instantly, she threw herself into Harry's arms, squashing Hedwig between them. "It worked! You're brilliant! Hedwig levitated the book!" She peppered his face with kisses. It took Harry a while to comprehend what Hermione meant, distracted by her lips on his face. When her words cut through the mental fog, he leapt out of the bed, grabbed her hands and began swinging her wildly around the room.
Hedwig was left forgotten in Harry's temporary bed, faintly amused by her humans. She took the time to groom herself, mildly displeased that her feathers were ruffled.
Hermione's face was red from laughing hard when Harry finally stopped.
"We can start training Hedwig some basic defensive spells and let Toll incorporate it into her training. Oh, this is wonderful!" gushed Harry, his eyes twinkling in excitement.
The corners of her lips lifted in a gentle smile as she curved her arm around his waist. "We can leave Toll to that. I think we might be sorely missed if we continue to stay here." Lightly, she laid her head on his chest.
Relaxed, she let out a sigh.
His arms went around her automatically, holding her close to him. He buried his nose into her thick and soft hair, savouring the feeling of having her close to him. She fitted him perfectly—just under his chin so that he could rest his head comfortably. He lowered his mental barriers, letting her love and concern wash over him.
There was no need for words—she understood completely how he felt.
He tipped her face gently, looking deeply into her eyes that shone with love for him. Enamoured, they drifted closer to each other as if pulled together by an invisible force. Their breaths quickened, bodies tensed with heightened anticipation.
Tenderly, their lips met in a kiss to sooth and comfort.
"Where is Hermione when we need her?" complained Sirius, drawing his hand through his hair out of frustration. His hair was standing in odd angles, raked out of place in frustration. They had been locked up in the lab for hours and there were no results. Hermione, for once, did not answer his call on the watch.
He stood up, paced around the large and spacious lab where they were working.
He, like Harry, was taking out his frustration through his project. The scan had picked up a possible hideout of Lord Voldemort just an hour before the Diagon Alley incident but it turned out to be a deception.
He took several men and headed to that site. The place turned out to be empty. Lord Voldemort had set that up to show that he knew that they had tagged several of his high-level followers. It was also the reason it took them some time to head over to Diagon Alley.
Sirius slammed his fists on the table in irritation.
The room was completely sealed and only the three of them had access into the room. The project was so confidential that they only had to report to Oswald. On paper, this laboratory did not even exist.
A sweet looking woman with a heart-shaped face was sitting next to him, in normal black robes. Her brows furrowed as she perused her records of their experiment. Emmeline appeared to be calmer one out of the three of them.
They were running into problems in creating a usable horcrux finder. The diary was unusable since the horcrux was destroyed by Harry years ago.
A jar was sitting on the table. Black mist swirled violently within the jar, attempting to smash itself against the jar repeatedly until it achieved its freedom. Remus was watching the jar closely, his body tensed.
"It's a violent and menacing soul. I can't believe that came out from Harry, "remarked Remus, almost calmly. "I think Harry needs her more, Padfoot. He just lost his uncle."
"Honestly, he's better off dead." He snorted. "That's not the point, by the way. He razed one of my companies to the ground, taking the lives of so many innocents,"retorted Sirius. "He must pay an eye for an eye. We need to get rid of him as soon as possible. Hogwarts is starting tomorrow and it would become the best place to have leverage over Magical Britain because all of our children will be there."
He shuddered at the thought of the future of Magical Britain held hostage in the school up in Scotland. Even though Professor McGonagall had assured them of added security measures and the Ministry had provided them with capable teachers to train the students in defending themselves.
Professor McGonagall and the other professors had devised an escape plan in the event the castle was invaded.
"We won't make headway this way, "quipped Emmeline. "We also have to prepare for a possible assault of the Ministry. Amelia has already announced the discovery of a hidden library and their intentions of destroying it by the end of this week since the Ministry can't use it."
"With goblin's help. That's another problem, we're hoping that the wards they are setting up is sufficient to contain the damage," continued Sirius, sighing. "They are lending us their army too. It's a good plan though. He will come. He needs those books."
"We can't concentrate our plans on that one battle. I know he will try to distract us," quipped Remus, drumming his fingers on the side. "I can't imagine giants in the Ministry." His mind drifted to Moody, to Harry's uncle and the diversion attack in Diagon Alley.
"That's the point. We want to spread out his forces and lure him into our strongholds. We're hoping that he will let his hubris speak for him." He crossed his legs restlessly, peering out of the window.
"We can only hope. Let's break for a rest. We can't think of ideas if we persist in this state. "Remus conjured several bottles of Butterbeer and hand them a bottle each.
They gratefully took it, choosing to dwell in silence. Emmeline returned her attention to her research, checking for other possibilities. They needed Hermione's expertise—she was the knowledgeable when it came to soul magic. Then, Sirius's watch began to buzz.
Hastily, Sirius answered the call and found that it was Hermione. He breathed an audible sigh of relief. "It's good to finally hear from you, Hermione."
Her brows arched in surprise. "Is something the matter? Harry's fine."
A smile crept on his face. "That's good news. Look, do you think he's feeling well enough for you to leave him for a while? We really need you here." There was a hint of desperation in his voice and Hermione caught it.
She glanced away from the screen for a moment, no doubt wordlessly speaking with Harry. Harry gave his consent. "I'll portkey over," concluded Hermione, ending their communication.
Remus gave a whoop of joy at the prospect. A few seconds later, Hermione materialised before them, her long hair tied in a ponytail—she was all ready to dive into work. Together, they re-examined their experiment carefully.
Harry was left alone in the bed, with Crookshanks guarding him. He was crouching on the edge of the bed, his eyes riveted on Harry. He heeded Hermione's instructions carefully, watching over her mate, without even blinking.
His mind was restless, swirling around the issues that were happening. He realised that he needed to meet Dudley and Aunt Petunia. He also needed to speak to Dumbledore about withholding important information from him.
"It's kinda eerie, Crookshanks. I can't sleep with you staring," grumbled Harry, reaching for him so that he could scratch him behind his ears. The half-Kneazle welcomed the affection, purring cheerfully as he ignored his master's complains.
A smile spread across his face when he realised that Crookshanks enjoyed making him uncomfortable. Harry shook his head, not expecting a response from Hermione's loyal pet. He was always left astounded by Crookshanks's fierce faithfulness to his mate.
The insistent buzzing of the watch caught his attention. With hackles raised, Crookshanks let out a warning hiss. He could feel Harry's physical fatigue through their connection and was warning him to stay in bed.
Harry pressed a button and the face of Oswald swam in. He looked weary but there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes. It was replaced by concern. "Are you okay, Harry? I'm sorry for your loss."
Harry nodded wordlessly, his face growing blank. "Do you have something you need me to do personally?"
"Our scans reported a gathering in one of the Lestrange's abandoned houses just now. After the false alarm a few hours ago, I don't wish to alert the Aurors. Yet, there is a possibility that it might be his bolt-hole.
Harry's restless eyes burned. "I'll check it out." Crookshanks growled loudly in protest. Wordlessly, he summoned a few treats and gave them it Crookshanks. However, he flatly refused, choosing to glare at him.
Sometimes, his loyalty to Hermione could be rather frustrating.
"Discreetly and blend into the Shadows," reminded Oswald. "Be safe, it's too soon to lose another. Call me if you found something."
Harry nodded sombrely. "I'll never put Hermione's life in jeopardy." He shot a side glance at Crookshanks, assuring both Uncle Os and him. He was somewhat pacified. Oswald smiled and bade him good luck.
His gaze fell on Crookshanks. Absently, he accepted the treat that Harry had offered earlier as a bribe to allow him to go. Harry rewarded him with a scratch behind his ears and pondered if he should inform Hermione. Finally, he decided keeping her in the dark. After all, the project needed her undivided attention.
I don't think that's wise. Crookshanks chewed on the treat as he eyed him intently.
Nimbly, Harry leapt out of bed, excited. "I'll be back before she does." Quickly, he began to dress. "I'm only a scout. I won't risk our lives." He strapped the sword to his back, hoping that he would not use it in this mission. He considered bringing Hedwig as an extra pair of eyes but he was quite sure she would stand out. Hedwig was a very unique snowy owl.
He went to his wardrobe and took out his invisibility cloak. Out of precaution, he slipped it into his pocket.
His watch beeped again, transmitting him the coordinates so that he could create a portkey. "I'll be back soon. "Momentarily changing the watch into a portkey, he activated it. There was the familiar feeling of being hooked on his navel and the whooshing wind. When he began his descend, he willed himself to transform. Four black paws absorbed his weight as he landed noiselessly on the grass.
He pressed himself to the ground, scanning the area carefully. Noises, scents and sights of the forest filled his senses. Harry lifted his muzzle and took a tentative sniff of the air—the place smelled like the woods. It was clear that the place had been abandoned for a long time.
His form wouldn't have looked out-of-place in a forest like this.
With his keen eyesight, he spotted a gravel path. Wild, overgrown grasses had completely covered the unused stony path. The grass looked completely untouched, suggesting that it had not been used for a while.
Or the Death-eaters might have directly Apparated to the shack.
Nimbly, he followed the track until he saw an old shack. It was completely covered with vegetation. The dirty windows were broken, no doubt by animals. There were holes in the roof and it was clear that it had been abandoned for a while.
There was no scent of magic, suggesting that it wasn't an illusion.
Shadow tensed when he noticed that there was no birds nesting in the roof or animals taking possession of the place. That was odd—a place that had been abandoned for a long time would usually thrive with wildlife. He searched the area cautiously.
Strange, there are very little animals in the area.
He took a tentative whiff of the air. It was different as if there was a hint of staleness. Warily, he inched closer towards the abandoned shack, his belly on the ground, watching out for wards. He was careful to travel with the wind against his face so he could pick up the scent of anything approaching.
Harry reminded himself of his mission—he was only here to make sure that this was not a secret lair of Lord Voldemort. He crept in, his soft paws padded quietly on the rotting wood. He searched the small room. There were signs of the place being lived in—there were ashes in the old fireplace.
He scanned the rooms carefully and found nothing. He did not dare to enter them because the flooring looked as if it could not take any weight.
His instinct told him there was something afoot—magical houses were usually larger than what it was and this shack appeared to magically unaltered. His instincts led him back to living room where the fireplace was—it was the cleanest area.
He noticed that the wooden floor was quite well-maintained, compared to the rest of the house.
He was certain that there was a hidden area. Carefully, he began prodding the place with his nose. It was a small room and a fireplace stood in the middle.
He learnt that magical families actually built secret rooms that could only be opened by physical means because they would stay undetected—there would be no trace of magic.
He returned his attention to the Inglewood and observed the sophisticated wooden serpent that framed the fireplace. It was made of darkened slate. The timber cobra was life-like and it protruded from the fireplace. He was quite certain that the cobra might began to hiss and move if he stared at it for long. He traced it with his nose, checking if it was dusty.
Suddenly, there was a loud hissing. The wall that was adjacent to him moved to form a small entrance. He let out a mental shout of glee and debated against entering in his form. Though he could travel using light in this form, he didn't really want to risk it. Quietly, he transformed back into a human and wore his invisibility cloak. He muted his shoes before stepping into the dark entryway. It led to a flight of winding stairs that descended to the basement.
He padded down carefully, listening intently for noises. For some odd reason, there was something in the place that was repelling him. He was growing more uneasy as he descended down the steps.
Fighting against his nausea, he moved on. Halfway down the stairs, he realised that it led to a large room that looked like the throne room of the goblins. He could see a platform.
The room smelled of death.
He stopped when he heard voices drifting in the room. There were people! He scanned the room and saw that there was another door near the throne. Two men guarded the door.
"I don't understand why we would need so many people just to guard a stupid ring! "yelled a man. Harry couldn't recognise the voice but he continued to inch closer. "It gives me the creeps."
"Don't forget the boy."
Another group of men in robes were standing guard of the platform. Their wands were out and they looked twitchy. He could see a ring sitting innocently on a table next to the throne. It was a simple ring with a large black stone. He recognised the ring immediately since he saw it in books—it was a treasured possession of the Gaunts, the direct descendants of Slytherin.
The many unpleasant sensations the ring was emitting in thick waves was familiar. It sent shivers down his spine. Harry fought the natural instinct to run away from it.
Worriedly, he searched his memories. His stomach clenched when he realised that it reminded him of the fragment of soul that was taken out of him.
It was a horcrux!
"Ssh. You wouldn't want the Dark Lord to hear that," another man cautioned. "He wasn't in a good mood today. Malfoy had to be carried out of his sight. I think he'll probably be dead if he didn't have a son he could offer to the Dark Lord."
Harry froze.
"Aye, that brat is in the initiation process. The whelp doesn't have the smoothness or the will of his sire." He let out a hollow laugh. "I wonder how long does it take for him to kill that little girl. His sire had locked him up for a month before he was presented to our lord. He was crying when I last checked on him." He jerked towards the locked room.
The other men chuckled as the idea tickled them. "It's the fourth day—he won't last long enough. I doubt he would die for a Muggle."
His eyes burned with rage as he swallowed his bile. Were they attempting to force another to kill an innocent?
"I can't see how useful he could be to the Dark Lord…"
Quietly, he inched forward. There were seven men in all. He repressed the instinct to eliminate such cruel monsters. The wolf in him burned in righteousness. There was a little light but he could see the faces of the seven guards—he did not recognised any of them.
"Whatever plans the Dark Lord has for him are better than ours. We're stuck here with a bloody ring."
It was clear that Riddle was merely using this place as an outpost as sorts. From the information they had gathered so far, this location was far too unsuitable to host all his allies.
"At least we'll only need to wait till the boy kills to leave," interjected one of the guards, laughing.
"Or we could kill him and tell the Dark Lord that he failed the test…"
Harry paused to consider his choices and saw that he had two choices: leave or attack. Determined, he turned back, fighting the urge to attack them. He had to leave. He promised. However, Malfoy may not last long enough for them to return with back-up.
He thought of the time the truce they made in his third year. It wasn't right to leave him behind.
He transformed back into Shadow under his cloak and passed through the light.
The stench of the room nearly made him retch—it was the smell of unwashed bodies, vomit and death. There was a body pressed against the wall. Harry could barely recognise Draco Malfoy—his usually neat blonde hair was clumped up with dirt. He was sobbing in the corner, huddling to himself. He looked so starved and frail.
A wand lay on the floor, on the opposite side of the room.
A girl he did not recognised lay in a cage. She stared blankly into space, her mind obviously broken by the events that transpired. Her parents lay next to her, obviously dead. From their state of their bodies, he knew that they must have been tortured before they were put to death.
Vile, vile men! Anger burned in him, threatening to take control of him. He had to fight the longing to head out of the door and put them to their death.
With his ears plastered back, he controlled the urge to snarl. He transformed back and called for Charles as he removed his cloak. The house elf instantly appeared by his side.
The dignified house elf could barely hide his revulsion when he arrived. It transformed to pity.
Neither Malfoy nor the girl paid attention to him. He was sickened by the psychological torture they had put them through. He balled his fists in an attempt to curb his temper.
"Take them back and give them a safe place to stay. I'll ask Amelia how to deal with the girl later. I'll clean up the mess."
"My lord, I don't think that you're…"
Harry held up his hand. "I won't put myself at risk. I'll return soon."
Unwillingly, he bowed, acknowledging his command. Charles took both of the survivors away, after cleaning them up.
An eye for an eye. He stared at the bodies, with pity in his eyes. He recalled the charred grounds of Grunnings, the look of surprise on his uncle's face. Fuelled with rage, he set the whole place on fire, knowing that it would not stop until the entire place was purified.
They would be helpless against his element.
He Apparated out of the shack and set up the magical barriers to keep the Death eaters and the flames within.
Then, he returned home. He collapsed into his bed, dressed, utterly drained from the expedition. The last thing he felt before losing his consciousness was Crookshanks's disapproval.
"I think what we really need is another horcrux," quipped Hermione, staring at the small hand-held device. It was modelled after the scanner used in ships and had a small screen to pinpoint the location of the horcrux. The device was supposed to act as a vassal to house the soul, using the magic from the soul to detect others and fuel the screen. The only drawback of the device was that it was short-ranged. "It's impossible to test if it would work when we have to put that into the device."
She had checked the magical equations used to form the device and was quite certain it would work.
"Too bad the diary was destroyed. We could ask the goblins to exact the soul from the device should it not work," quipped Emmeline thoughtfully. "I'm all for testing the device."
Sirius and Remus seconded that.
Hermione grew impatient. "Would it be wise? Test it with what? Unless, Riddle makes it a habit to entrust them to his followers..."
"We wouldn't know unless we try, won't we?" shot Sirius, grabbing the jar. There was a dogged look on his face. He created a shield, unscrewed the jar and stuffed it into the device, while he cast the spell to trap the errant soul into it.
The device began beeping suddenly. A red dot had appeared on the screen, approaching them. "Was the magical formula wrong? There shouldn't be a horcrux nearby," whispered Hermione, looking puzzled.
Sirius's shoulders slumped in dejection. "Where did we go wrong?"
"Surprise! I have a little present for you," greeted Oswald, walking into the laboratory. He was carrying a jar similar to the one on the table. The Hufflepuff goblet gleamed menacingly in the jar. "The goblins found a horcrux in Bellatrix's vault…"
Whoops of joy echoed across the room. Sirius grabbed Remus by his arms and began swinging him recklessly around, cheering loudly. The two men spun around the room crazily, much to the amusement of the rest of the occupants in the room.
"Did I miss something?" asked Oswald, winging an eyebrow.
Emmeline took a whiff from the bottle of Butterbeer Sirius had drunk from. "I'm not quite sure," deadpanned she.
"It worked!" yelled Sirius loudly, dancing in the room.
"It worked? Is that it?"asked Oswald, intrigued. He pointed to the small beeping handheld device.
"Careful Os. It isn't just it. It's the bloody-awesome-horcrux-searcher," snorted Sirius, folding his arms. There was a large grin on his face. "We spent hours working on it."
Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Don't listen to Padfoot. We haven't named it yet. I'm glad it works though." She grinned proudly, leaning against one of the work table. "It works on the principle that fragments of soul are attracted to one another."
Remus crackled in laughter.
"It can detect a horcrux in the radius of a mile."
"Astonishing." He picked up the device carefully, examining it closely. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, fascinated with their new invention.
"We could hand over the goblet back to the goblins to destroy the soul," continued Hermione ,disappointed, letting her hair down. Her thick brown hair fell around her shoulders. She had to admit that she preferred research jobs. There was a sense of excitement and achievement that accompanied the trade. It was time for her to go back to check on her partner. She was concerned for his well-being.
Remus, Sirius and Emmeline took the opportunity to consolidate their notes and to record their success.
"I presume Harry was successful at his mission?" asked Oswald nonchalantly, looking through the magical formula.
Hermione froze. "What mission?"
Oswald glanced at her, surprised to see the bemusement on her face. His mind backpedalled to the conversation he had with Harry. Like her, he was equally surprised that he did not tell his wife. Why wouldn't he tell her about it? His mind began to race with ways to placate Hermione. He ran his hand through his hair.
"It was a scouting mission. There was nothing risky about the assignment…"
"What did you send him to do?" interjected Hermione almost coldly. Her face was impassive.
Oswald fought the shiver that ran down his spine. He cleared his voice. "We detected some Death eater activity but I wanted someone to scout…"
Outrage burnt in her eyes for a moment silencing the older Lord. "What are the coordinates?"
Reluctantly, Oswald gave her the coordinates.
With a 'pop', she disappeared.
"Um…I think pup's in deep trouble."
"He has much to learn in the ways of being a good husband, "commented Oswald, shaking his head. He had learnt that lesson in a hard way. "Let that be a lesson to you too, Sirius." He returned his attention to his work, hoping that Harry would survive the ordeal unscathed.
Both of his eyebrows shot past his hairline. Sirius shrugged finally, choosing to keep his comments to himself. Remus wisely chose to carry out the errand of transporting the horcrux to the goblins to destroy.
Neville was sitting next to Luna quietly, enjoying the time he was spending with the intelligent Ravenclaw in the balcony of her house. The sun had begun to set. Her father was not at home since he had decided to rush out an article on Amelia's achievements to boost the public's confidence in her leadership after the attack on the Diagon Alley. Amelia had earned the respect of her father.
The blonde remained unusually quiet after the incident at the Diagon Alley, choosing to be lost in her thoughts. Her gaze drifted to the meadows before them.
The peace and tranquillity were so surreal, after they had experienced the tangible taste of fear. Children were separated from their parents when they were lost in the stampede. Many wizards and witches were injured because they had run amok. Neville had to take a long time to convince some of the public that everything was okay. He knew that Luna was helping the healers with healing—many of them were squashed by the stampede.
Suddenly, the war that they had prepared for two years felt so tangible. The idea that they could lose their lives became real. The funeral and the incident at Diagon Alley cemented several things for Neville. Life was so unpredictable—the death of Moody was unexpected, so was the attack. Truly, he could not predict what may happen the next day, especially since they were heading back to Hogwarts.
He glanced at the girl next to him, choosing to observe her profile.
She took his breath away. Those eyes that stared pensively into the distance were large and so expressive. He remembered the twinkle in her eyes when she smiled or the sparkle when she found something interesting. Her features were almost delicate and petite.
The winnowing winds caressed her long hair and he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Her hair shone almost like rays of the sun, an irony, since she was named after the moon. She was like a sun, bringing warmth and joy into their group.
He was, of course, intrigued and enamoured by her spirit, her heart and her passion for learning. He was fascinated at the way she would generously forgive or shower her care for others in her own way. Of late, he had thought about her and how much she meant to him.
He realised that he desired to know more of her—he was no longer satisfied at being only her friend.
"Luna?"
Her large eyes stared questioningly at him.
He held her gaze firmly, determined to tell her his feelings.
Her eyes lit up. "The answer is yes, Nev." The corner of her lips lifted in a knowing smile as she lowered her gaze.
His brows furrowed into a frown of confusion. "Yes?" He straightened up, holding her gaze.
She chuckled brightly, turning away. "I'm willing to be your girlfriend, Nev," clarified Luna, grinning mischievously. Neville burst out laughing—once again Luna had pulled the rug underneath him.
"Luna…" He murmured tenderly, looking into her eyes. "You never cease to surprise me." The laughter had died from her eyes. He felt like he was moving in slow motion as his face continued its purposeful descent toward hers, his fingers lifting her chin to meet him halfway. He couldn't wait to taste those full lips; yet the agonizing anticipation of that first contact was almost as delicious as the kiss itself.
Her eyes were closed, expecting and waiting for that kiss almost as anxiously as he was. He prolonged the moment as long as he could, relishing the quickening of her breath and the fluttering of her lashes until her features became a blur to him.
Almost tenderly, their lips fused in a gentle kiss that marked them as a couple.
The room was enshrouded in darkness when he finally gained his consciousness. Why was he sleeping on his front? He pushed himself off the bed with an arm, easily lifting himself, before twisting his body into a sitting position. His long fringe fell over his eyes.
It was unusually quiet but he was on the edge. Absently, he racked his hand through his hair, pushing the fringe away from his eyes. What had happened?
He squeezed his eyes shut began to recall the events that happened in the forest.
"Awake? Are you okay?"
His head shot up at the tone of her voice—it was cold and emotionless. She was sitting by the bed in a chair, watching him closely. It was difficult to discern her expression because she was residing in the shadows. Crookshanks was lying in her arms, enjoying the soothing rubs from his mistress.
"Angel? I'm fine. Why didn't you turn on the lights?" Magically, he lighted the room. He could almost smell guilt emanating from Crookshanks when his gaze fell upon his wife and her pet.
She was scrutinising him closely, as if checking for fresh injuries.
"She is fine. The Ministry took over the case. The girl was given a new name after her memories were wiped. Amelia placed her in an orphanage with funds for her to begin her life when she leaves that place."
So, she knew. Her mental shields were firmly in place, blocking her emotions and thoughts. He knew instantly he was in trouble. He racked his hand through his hair worriedly, standing up.
"Mione, I can explain. It was a simple and risk-free quest to scout. I wanted to do something. I can't simply stay at home, doing nothing."
Her eyebrows narrowed into a frown as she crossed her arms before her chest.
"Do I not understand? You spend hours away from me, hiding in the House, going through numerous mock battle situations with Hedwig. Then, you collapse from overuse of your magic because you pursue a reckless hunch to create the ring." She gestured animatedly, obvious furious. "You could have killed yourself. I went to the forest. The whole place was razed to the ground—"
"Payback, "growled Harry, his body braced to fight. His eyes flashed in fury. "He burnt the Grunnings to the ground." He squeezed his eyes shut, calming himself down. "There was nothing to worry about, I didn't kill myself. I-I couldn't help it. I went mad when I saw Malfoy , the girl and her parents. His father gave him as a tribute to pacify Riddle. They weren't prepared to let him go until Malfoy kills the girl and gets initiated. They are monsters! Every one of them. They deserve to burn in the flames!"
The windows in the room shattered into pieces at his proclamation, showering the floor with its broken shards. The room fell silent immediately.
Unfazed, Hermione stood up slowly, facing him. Crookshanks leapt on the ground for safety and hastily padded away, knowing that it was going to get violent. Harry's chest was heaving from the sudden explosion of his anger. He closed his eyes, calming himself down.
Her quiet tone held his attention. "That's not the point. You ought to tell me, Harry. I was worried about you," whispered she. "Were you so overwhelmed by your need of revenge that you forget about me?" Though she spoke quietly, it felt as if she had just struck him. He bowed his head. "I know, Mione. I-I didn't want to bother you when you busy with a project. Besides, you wouldn't have allowed me to go—"
"For a good reason, "snapped Hermione, glaring at him. " You wouldn't have the ability to defend yourself should you be discovered. I would have gone with you." Her eyes were narrowed in frustration and she closed the distance between them so that they were only inches apart. They were so close that he could see the unshed tears were shining in her eyes. "You would have been slaughtered like a lamb." Her voice broke at the end.
He held her gaze firmly, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms and soothe her fears. Her worries were irrational and Hermione wasn't an illogical person. His voice was gentle. "I came back alive." That was all that mattered. "You were needed in that project. I could tell that Padfoot was desperate. You helped to resolve the crisis, didn't you?"
She hesitated to refute. "They didn't really need me. They got it mostly right—"She stalked away, choosing to stand by the window, putting maximum distance between them. It broke a part of him to see that she wanted to be away from him.
"You reduced the time taken to create the finder. I know you're more effective at research, especially when it comes to soul-magic. You enjoy researching as opposed to staking-out."
Hermione glanced out of the window, frustrated to know that he was right—she would have forbid him or accompanied him, leaving the project behind. However, his welfare was more important than any project. Harry had allowed his desire for revenge to overpower him, pushing him to risk his life for needless vengeance. He paid no heed to the consequences of his actions. Absently, she repaired the windows with a wave of her hand. The shards of glass instantly leapt into air and put themselves together. The window was good as new when it was repaired.
He dragged his hand through his hair before stuffing both of his hands into his pockets. The tension in the room was thick enough to suffocate them.
He searched for a way to justify the risks. "I destroyed another horcrux today."
She turned to stare at him, almost impassive. She remembered searching the grounds carefully—there wasn't anything. Everything was reduced to a charred mess. She was frantic because she knew that he had overexerted his magical core.
"It's his family ring," replied Harry, meeting her gaze. "I recognised it because it was something of Slytherin's." Her eyes widened in shock as she shifted mental gears instantly.
"We found another horcrux today too. It was Hufflepuff's goblet." Her mind began to race quickly, putting one and one together. Tom Riddle framed Hagrid when the opening of the Chamber of secrets nearly led to the closure of the school—his love for Hogwarts was apparent. That deduction was made even more plausible with the discovery of the Hufflepuff's goblet. "Would you agree that he has an obsession with Hogwarts?"
He blinked at the sudden change of hats—Hermione could be easily distracted by mystifying riddles. His eyes narrowed in contemplation. Hogwarts was a way to escape all the pain and misery caused by the Dursleys. He remembered the awe at discovering he was a wizard—it explained all the strangeness. Hogwarts was synonymous with home before he was married to Hermione. He could understand Riddle's obsession. Following his wife's strain of thoughts, it wasn't difficult to realise what the other horcruxes were. "Yes, the other horcruxes are mostly likely to be the relics belonging to the four Founders of Hogwarts."
"We ought to warn the rest." The excitement from her eyes extinguished. The smile on her face disappeared in an instant. He could see the disappointment and hurt in her eyes as they darted away from him.
Hermione knew that he was trying to persuade her that the stake-out was worth both the risk and her anger.
They were aware that they had come to an impasse but neither of them was willingly to back off.
Harry fixed his gaze on his wife. "I know you're still upset with me. I- I'm sorry for not telling you. I don't regret my actions though."
She barely acknowledged him, choosing to go to the window to recollect her thoughts. He sighed.
"I-I'll be with Malfoy if you need me." He walked towards the door, planning to leave Hermione to her thoughts. He paused by the door, hesitant. "Hermione, I love you." With that, he shut the door of their bedroom carefully behind him.
Charles had placed Malfoy in one of the guest rooms. His mind raced with questions he wanted to ask his schoolmate. Did Malfoy always want to be a Death eater? He took a turn and found himself at the door of the guestroom. He felt restless, upset due to his martial spat—she had chosen to keep the mental barriers between them up. He closed his eyes, trying to take charge of his emotions.
He took a deep breath. Upon exhaling, he felt better. The torrents of emotions had subsided.
Malfoy was sitting by the window, gazing at the night. Charles had given him a few potions to correct his malnutrition and heal his physical wounds. He had clean himself up, looking like the sleek scion of a rich family Harry had known.
"Good evening, Malfoy,"greeted Harry warmly. "How are you feeling?"
He turned to look at him with lifeless eyes. "It's just Draco. Draco Malfoy has died in the flames. The boy whose father had given to the Dark Lord as a tribute has perished in the fire." Silence ensured in the room for a moment. "How's the girl?"
Harry took a seat by the bed. "She's fine. They wiped her memories and put her in an orphanage. She needed a fresh new start."
He nodded as if relieved. He stared at his hands. "I never wanted to hurt her. Though I did consider several times while being trapped with her that it might be more benevolent to kill her to end all her misery. Her parents were brutally murdered before her. Some of those monsters used her mother as an object to relieve their baser desires. I-it was violent and ugly." There was a haunted look as he recollected. His clenched fist shone white under the light.
"It's not your fau—"
"I was raised to hate the Muggles," interrupted Draco fiercely. "They were leeches who worked very hard to steal our job and riches, seduce and ensnare our people, destroyed the prestige of being a magical and polluted our world with their strange inventions. I always believed that the D-dark Lord had it right—we should get rid of them and return our world into the proper order."
Harry made himself comfortable, fascinated with his tale.
He stood up, restless. "When I came into Hogwarts, I was certain my father was right. Granger was the top student of our year and she was always with you. I saw that she was leeching your glory, the Boy-who-lived." He was referring to the end of their first year.
Harry remembered how nasty Malfoy was to his wife and he arched a brow in surprise, wondering where the conversation would lead to.
"I found myself disliking Muggles even more when I found myself attracted to your girlfriend. She was smart, pretty, determined and extremely loyal. I thought that she had ensnared me just as she trapped you and Weasley. I was in my second year then."
Harry was wide-eyed. He didn't know that Malfoy actually cared for his wife. "What changed? You helped me to surprise Hermione in our third year."
Draco chuckled almost sardonically. "She was petrified in her second year—she wasn't as powerful as I thought. I began to question my hatred against the Muggles. Then, I saw how both of you were right for each other. It was clear that Granger only had eyes for you and you, her. I didn't understand how I came to the conclusion that she had ensnared you with her tricks. Both of you were in love."
Harry looked mildly bemused.
"I gave up on Granger and fell in love with another. She made me see how stupid some of my beliefs were. It was stupid to give up my life to eradicate the Muggles. Why should we? Astoria wasn't shy about shooting me down for some bloody stupid beliefs I had. When my father invited me to join the circle at the start of our holidays, I refused and he locked me up for a month. Seeing how cruel the Death eaters could be made me question why I once thought them as heroes. My own father would willingly give me away to please his master. He would torture me so that I could grow up into a murderer. I refused to be used that way." His eyes burned in rage.
"What did they need you for?" questioned Harry thoughtfully, standing up. He realised that he was slightly taller than Malfoy.
He held Harry's gaze steely. "Find a way to sneak the other Death Eaters into Hogwarts."
Harry frowned. "What does Voldemort plan to accomplish? Did he have a back-up plan?"
"He needs something from Hogwarts." He shook his head, looking like a weary teenager. "I don't know if the Dark Lord has another plan."
Harry dipped his head in a nod, recalling Hermione's words. "Why would Voldemort tell you about such important plans?" Riddle would only entrust his plans to the Death eaters.
Draco cackled cynically. "Why not? I doubt he would believe a Malfoy would betray him."
A faint smile crept on his face. "You just did."
Draco grinned widely. "That I did. I don't regret a bit."
Harry considered the implications of Draco joining their camp. He couldn't stay in the Slytherin dormitories because it would have been too dangerous for him. Riddle might enlist the help of the other children of Death eaters to get rid of him. He had to house him in their married quarters. That would also mean that he had to tell him of his marriage to Hermione.
"If you don't mind, who are you seeing?"
Draco faltered for a moment, looking away. "Her family wouldn't approve of me. I was a Malfoy, a family known to support the Dark Lord."
Harry stood up and patted on his back. "You're Draco Malfoy. It's up to you to remake the name of Malfoy. The fact you have resisted becoming a Death eater is commendable. You've also betrayed him. I'm quite sure her family would be accepting."
He turned away, unused the idea of Harry supporting him. "I highly doubt so—it's the Greengrass."
Harry froze. "You're dating Astoria? How long? Does Daph know about it?"
"Do you think Daphne would have approved?" returned Draco, lifting a brow. "She wasn't shy about expressing her dislike for me." That earned a chuckle from Harry.
"That's our Daph,"smiled Harry. "I'll have to update the rest about Riddle's plan. Make yourself comfortable. I have taken the liberty of asking one of my house elves to get you what you need for school. We'll be departing for the train in the early afternoon. You'll see her tomorrow."
To Harry's surprise, Draco approached him almost timidly. "Harry, thank you for saving my life. You have my eternal gratitude. I swear that I'll always be loyal to the Potters, assisting you in whatever capacity you need me. I'll also keep your secrets. So mote it'll be," declared Draco, a purple wisp of magic appeared from the tip of his wand, wrapping both their hands.
"That was uncalled for!" Harry retorted, wide-eyed.
Draco shrugged. "I'm a turncoat. It'll bring more assurance to your allies. Get some rest, Harry. You look like a bloody mess. You need to look good tomorrow for Granger."
The grin on his face from the insult of his physical appearances faded from his face. He drew his hand through his hand tentatively, considering how to tell him the truth.
Draco lifted a brow questioningly. "Granger isn't attending Hogwarts anymore?"
Harry shook his head. "Hermione isn't a Granger anymore. She stays here with me."
His eyes went wide. "Both of you are married?"
Harry nodded, bidding Draco a good night, leaving the Slytherin to overcome his shock. He had to admit the sight of Draco with his mouth hanging open was a funny sight.
Feeling unready to face his wife, Harry decided to spend his time in his office tending to the rest of the matters. He contacted Oswald and Amelia to update them about the mission. They were stunned that he didn't know that Hermione had contacted them about her deduction about the Horcrux. He also informed them about the possible location of one of them—Hogwarts. Both Amelia and Oswald told him to speak to Hermione before they ended the communications, though Oswald was more sympathetic.
He leaned into his large office chair, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling unusually edgy. He could feel a tension building in his temples. He grew restless from the lack of things to do. His eyes fell upon the documents sitting upon his desk. He decided to attend to his duties as Lord. It was after midnight when Harry completed his task. Finding nothing else to do, he called for Dobby for a chat.
"Good evening, milord," Dobby greeted politely. He was dressed neatly in his uniform which bore the Potter's crest. "You should be in bed. Work can wait till tomorrow."
"None of that, Dobby. It's just Harry, "reprimanded he gently. " I wasn't tired." He stepped away from his desk, sitting at the armchair so that he was closer to Dobby.
"You have to go to Hogwarts tomorrow."
He shrugged. If he was honest to himself, he was feeling quite nervous. "I know. Are you okay with Draco staying here? He might be doing so for a while. I'm planning to offer him a room at Hogwarts. He can't stay at his dormitories anymore. " Dobby had used to work for the Malfoys and was abused by them.
Dobby looked befuddled at his question.
"They were unkind to you. I was afraid you might be uncomfortable being around with Draco."
Dobby shook his head so hard that Harry was afraid that his head might fall off.
"It's not Young Ma-Malfoy's fault. The evil and old ex-master forced him to hit me because he was afraid that he would be too soft. Mrs Malfoy didn't care because I was merely a house elf. He's just the product of his father's upbringing. Besides, I will always support Master Harry's choice."
Harry nodded. "So you don't blame him?"
Dobby shook his head vigorously. He glanced at the wrist watch he was wearing. "I think it's time for Master Harry to go to bed. Mistress is still awake."
"Awake? At this hour?"
Dobby nodded his head before bidding him goodnight.
Gathering his courage, he returned to his bedroom. He was greeted by the sight of Hermione just out of her showers, clad in a conservative satin nightdress. Her hair was moist, falling around her shoulder in thick and straight waves—her hair usually curled only when it was dry. Wordlessly, she dried her hair with magic as she took a seat before her dresser to begin her routine of combing her long tresses.
Harry was presented with picturesque profile view of his goddess. Her body was relaxed from her bath. However, he could see the mental gears in her head moving—her brows were slightly slanted as if she was lost in her thoughts. There was a hint of misery and weariness in her eyes which made him sigh—she was almost as miserable as him. He expelled the breath that he did not realise that he was holding before making his decision.
Quietly, he padded until he was standing behind her. Her hand stilled in mid-stroke, watching him intently using the mirror. Gently, he took the brush from her hand, giving her an opportunity to resist—she didn't. Hermione grew more relaxed. Gingerly, he ran his free hand through her hair, admiring its silky texture. It elicited a soft sigh from Hermione as she closed her eyes in bliss. Tenderly, as if worshipping her beauty, he began his task of brushing her locks.
The silence between them was more tranquil. Harry grew more relaxed as he lavished attention on Hermione, enjoying the privilege to care for her. Then, he understood her distress—he was irrevocably hers as she was his—hers to love, protect and shower her attentions on. He blinked owlishly at the epiphany, understanding how he had hurt her.
Her eyes shot open, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "Harry, I'm sorry. I should have stayed behind to look after you, knowing how upset you were about your Uncle's death."
He shook his head. "No, I'm at fault. I was inconsiderate." Hermione spun around to look at him. Tenderly, he took her hands. "Both of us had a very long day. You could have screamed at me when I recklessly tried to cope with my anger by disappearing into the House. Then, I made you worry by rushing into another mission after I barely recuperated from collapsing. I made you worry, Honey."
She shook her head, leaning into his embrace. Harry released her hands and wrapped his arms around her. "I guess we're fine now?" asked Harry, pressing his lips on her forehead.
The mental walls between them fell with the opening of their hearts. Both of them smiled at the joy of being so connected.
"More than fine, Harry. I love you too."
A/N: I'm sorry for the late update. I know it has been months but my dominant hand was severely injured from overuse since April. I'm not too certain when I can update. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Blessed day!
Special thanks to Tumshie and Alix33 for correcting some of my mistakes.
