Chapter 16: Heat of the Flame

Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart

Flaming Hot Cheetos by Clairo

A Walk Through Hell by Say Anything

Elara gasped for air as the water rushed around her. She sat up, sputtering and coughing, wiping her wet hands across her face as she drew in long, deep breaths. She had held her breath much longer that time. She pushed her soaked hair from her face and settled back against the porcelain of the tub, closing her eyes as she caught her breath.

She used to play this game with Draco, when they were children.

She remembered it vividly, the summers at the Manor, before Draco left for Hogwarts. There was a large pond off the back of the property where the horse stables had been, and they often lazed about in the water on particularly hot days. Draco had teased her mercilessly for never learning how to swim, but she could hold her breath longer than he could, so she took it as a win.

"You can't hold your breath as long as me because you have to fill the air with the sound of your own voice!" She would tell him.

She allowed her mind to wander to thoughts of her brother. In the last year, Draco had essentially become a different person. When they were younger, he was so full of energy. He was magnetic, always leading his group of friends around the Manor, playing pranks on one another and causing their mother and father headache more often than not. He laughed often, a loud, shaking laugh that came from his chest and pulled tears from his eyes. It was contagious, his laugh. Even when she was angry, her fists clenched at her sides because he had, yet again charmed her humming bumble-plums to sing his favorite Weird Sisters song, she couldn't help but laugh.

Now that she thought about, she couldn't remember a time all of last year that he had laughed like that. The thought of that made the burning in her gut come alive. The Death Eaters and Voldemort had taken so much from her and Draco. Sure, her family was alive. But was it really living when you lived in constant fear? When you've been stripped of who you had been to be replaced with a terrifying shell of yourself?

She sighed and wondered what he must be doing now. Was he attending the meetings the Death Eaters were surely having? Was he being tortured? Was he torturing others? Was he even alive? She felt her chest constrict at that thought. He was, she knew he was. Their father wouldn't allow him to be killed in their own home, he said he wasn't at the wedding but he didn't give her the impression that it was because he wasn't alive. She hoped he was okay. Well- as okay as one could be in a house with Voldemort. She wondered if maybe it was him outside, pacing around the square, waiting for them to leave.

Or maybe, he and Blaise were getting ready to go back to Hogwarts for the new term?

She felt nauseous as she thought of Blaise. Would he have seen Draco since the term ended? Would he be okay? And his poor mum! Emiliana had long offered a place to hide, a place to escape. Of course, she would be targeted. She was fabulously wealthy and famously neutral. If the Death Eaters hadn't already recruited her, Elara would be surprised if the Order didn't try to. She was certain to have some connections with foreign Ministers and people of power. Would she even allow Blaise to return to Hogwarts? Would he have to go, if the Ministry is making attendance mandatory?

She sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face.

"Ellie!" Harry yelled from the stairwell, "Ellie, come downstairs, please! Quickly!"

She furrowed her brow as she stood up as fast as she could, stepping out of the tub, she lost her footing and landed hard on her hip. Her elbow hit the porcelain on the way down and she groaned as she pulled herself back up. She yanked the plush white robe off the back of the door and slipped into it, tying it around her waist and grabbed her wand off the counter.

She padded down the stairs, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her as she went. "Harry?" She called, "Harry, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just… Can you come in here?"

He was in the dining room, judging by his voice. She walked through the threshold of the door, rubbing the elbow she had hit when she slipped and her eyes went wide. There, laying face down to the wooden floor with Harry's knee in his back, was Mundungus Fletcher.

Kreacher was prattling on about how he was difficult to find, but Elara couldn't hear him. All she could see was white, hot rage. "You!" She shouted, pointing her wand directly at the man. "You absolute swine!"

At some point, Kreacher had gone into the kitchen and returned with a large, heavy bottomed frying pan. He had begun to swing mercilessly at Mundungus.

"Kreacher! We need him conscious!" Harry said, trying to suppress his laughter.

"Maybe one more? For luck," Kreacher said.

Ron snorted in response.

"You disgusting man!" Elara said, her wand still trained on him even as Harry released him from his weight. "You absolutely-

"I didn't want to go," Mundungus began. "No offense, mate. I didn't want to get meself killed! And then 'e showed up! What was I supposed to do?"

"You should have stayed!" Elara roared, "You should have stayed! No one else left! No one else disapparated away like a- a coward! Mad Eye died! I watched him die! You could have helped!"

As she said the words aloud, she realized the band in her chest that had been there for two months, had tightened at the sight of Mundungus. And the fear coursing through her the night they went to retrieve Harry, returned. She could see the light leave Mad Eye's eyes as he fell from his broom, plummeting to the earth below. She could feel the grip on her jaw as Voldemort held her face in his hand. She could hear his cries of agony as she yanked gut wrenching torment from the back of his mind and forced him to relive it.

She felt sick. She felt like she was going to faint. Her breath came in heavy pants as her wand faltered, her arm shaking as she pointed it at the man on the floor.

"She all righ'?" He asked, looking at Harry.

She could see the look of concern in Harry's eyes as his brows pulled together, his forehead creasing.

"I'm fine," She choked out. "I'm fine. You should be more worried about yourself right now!"

"He's always worried about himself," Ron said. "That's the problem, innit?"

"Listen," Harry began. "As much as I would love to give Ellie here the opportunity to hex you to hell and back, that's not why we brought you here."

"It isn'?" Mundungus said, looking up from his spot on the floor.

"No," Harry said. "It isn't. You have something that belonged to Regulus Black. I want it."

Elara clenched her jaw as she moved to the table, yanking a chair away with more force than necessary, and sitting down. She folded her arms over her chest and crossed her legs over one another at the knee.

"I don't think Harry realized you were having a bath," Hermione whispered. "If you want to go get dressed…"

"I'm fine," Elara said.

Hermione gave a sharp nod and offered her a steaming mug from the tray. Elara returned the gesture with a tight smile and took the mug, wrapping both her hands around it and settling it in her lap after taking a few sips.

Elara sat, her back ramrod straight, as she listened to Harry question Mundungus about the locket. He really was a slimy man. Making excuses for going through the house, stealing anything he could get his hands on. She hoped he got picked up by someone in Knockturn Alley with an eye for stolen heirlooms and a bad taste in their mouth.

"You still have it?" Hermione said, leaning forward a bit in her chair.

"No he doesn't, look at him!" Ron said, his face scrunching up in disgust, "He's wondering if he could have gotten more for it!"

"Well I bleedin' gave it away, didn't I!" Mundungus cried, "Some old bat that works for the Ministry!"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," He replied. "Short, mean old thing. Wore a pink bow on her head."

Harry's wand slipped from his grasp as he looked between Ron and Hermione. Elara's face pulled together in confusion, her mouth twisting to the side as some shared realization hit the three.

"Umbridge," Harry said.

August was bleeding into September at a much faster pace than they were prepared for. With next to no information and not sure how to get it, they had spent their days locked in the house, bickering and grating one another's nerves. Elara often wondered how any of them had been friends for so long. The way Ron's temper caused him to snap, Harry having no regard for it and seemingly enjoying an argument, and Hermione who tried to keep the peace in an obviously annoyed state. On top of it, Harry's foul mood seemed to seep through all of them and she found that when she had had enough of it, he didn't want to hear her input. He would simply ignore her or argue with her until one of them got angry enough to leave the room.

Elara found herself reaching for her dampening potion more days than not, taking even half doses to just get a few hours of peace. She spent much of her time alone, or with Hermione in the library. They studied tirelessly, going through book after book of anything that could be useful. The Black library was nowhere near as expansive as the library at the Manor, but there was quite a lot of text to go through.

Today was a calmer day in the house. For that, Elara was thankful. Ron and Hermione seemed to be over their previous day's quarrel and Harry had shut himself in Sirius's room again. Elara found herself in the Great Room, sitting at the stacked piano that was covered in an inch thick layer of dust. Kreacher had done wonders for the house since their arrival, cleaning constantly and fixing most of what they hadn't been able to fix, but the piano remained filthy.

She wondered if it worked.

She leaned forward, blowing some of the dust off the keys and instantly regretted the motion. The dust swirled around her and caused her to cough and sneeze. She settled and decided on a cleaning charm, feeling annoyed with herself for not having done that in the first place.

She struck a key and felt the tug of her lips pull upward. Music. God, how she missed hearing music throughout the Manor. Hot summer days that were accented with quiet playing strings as she tended to her plants in the back garden. She sighed at the nostalgic feeling that pumped through her and placed her hands on the keys. After striking a few notes and realizing that the piano was still in tune, she began to play.

She hadn't noticed Harry enter the room.

"I didn't know you played piano," He said.

She jumped, clutching a hand to her chest and heaving a few breaths in. "You scared me!" She laughed.

"Sorry," He said, a sheepish, lopsided smile on his face as he leaned against the door frame.

"It's all right," She said. "And yes. Although, not very well. Draco is much better at it than I am. We both play piano; Mum taught us when we were young. She plays too."

"What are you playing?" He asked.

"I don't know the name," She admitted. "It's a song mum taught us."

He bobbed his head a few times, shoving his hands in his pockets and crossing the room. Elara moved down on the small bench to make room for him. Harry sat, clasping his hands in his lap. "I don't know how to play," He said. "I was never allowed to do anything at the Dursley's."

"I'm sorry they were so horrible to you," She said, a slight frown pulling her features downward.

He shrugged, "I've made my peace with it. Besides, I have you now. And Hermione. Ron and his entire family."

Even with the dampening potion, she could feel the lingering sadness in him. "Are you all right?" She asked.

He hummed, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been spending a lot of time in Sirius's room," She said.

"I don't want to argue with anyone," He admitted. "So, I sit in there and read that letter from my mum."

"Tensions have been high," She agreed, pulling her eyes from the piano keys and staring into his.

"I think we should venture out," He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"To where?"

He shrugged. "I want to try and get some information. Maybe swipe a copy of the Prophet."

"Harry, there's Death Eaters practically lining the streets."

"I know," He said, his hand coming up to rest on the side of her neck. "But we need to know what's going on. Sitting here in the dark isn't going to solve anything. We need to find Umbridge and I have my cloak-

"You can't go out alone!" She immediately protested, her heart jumping into her throat. "Harry, if you get caught-

"I know," He said. "I think we should go in pairs. We can go under the invisibility cloak, apparate to the top step like Remus did."

"I don't know, Harry. It feels really risky…" She trailed off, chewing at her bottom lip.

She felt the pad of his thumb brush against her lip, pulling it from between her teeth. "I know," He said. "But we're going to have to take some risks. We can't sit here all year."

She sighed, staring into his eyes, searching them for anything that could bring her comfort. He was determined to make her see his point, she could feel that much. And his eyes glittered with it as well. "Okay," She breathed the word.

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yes, I don't think it's really the most intelligent thing to do, but you're right. We can't just sit here and wait for something to happen."

He smiled at her and she stared down at his teeth. She had never noticed that the two in the middle of the bottom row were slightly crooked. She thought it was cute. She felt her face flush a bit as she realized Harry's gaze was still on her.

Merlin, I'm acting like he hasn't seen me starkers! She thought, suppressing the chuckle that threatened to bubble out of her chest. She could tell that Harry noticed the change in her demeanor as laughter seemed to dance in his eyes. He leaned forward, capturing her lips with his own.

She sighed into him, her skin tingling where his thumb rubbed just below her jaw on her neck. They hadn't spent much time together, alone, since the first night and morning when they arrived. And the time they did spend, they usually ended up bickering or getting frustrated with one another's attitude.

It was hard, being here. On all of them. It was difficult to be away from everyone, without knowing anything about what was happening. Reading the month old copy of the Prophet that Lupin had brought with him in hopes of finding something new they hadn't noticed before. Hermione was constantly searching through books, trying to find things that could be useful and Ron practically had the Prophet articles memorized.

It was exhausting.

It was irritating.

They were grating each other's nerves on a daily basis and she had forgotten how much she missed the feel of having Harry's lips move against hers. Her thoughts were pulled away from the frustration of day to day life in the house as Harry's tongue swiped across her bottom lip and delved into her mouth, roaming through it with purpose.

She could kiss him like this all day.

She felt his left hand move into her hair, his right still planted on her neck, rubbing soft circles into the underside of her jaw. She pulled her hands from her lap, twisting the fingers on her right hand into his messy raven locks and resting her left against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat thundering against his sternum.

He pulled his lips from hers and moved to her neck, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along the column of her throat.

"Harry," She whispered in a breathy moan. "The door…"

His hand left her hair and she felt him shift a bit, her eyes fluttering shut as he nipped the skin below her ear. She heard the door slam shut and felt his lips move against her as he whispered a locking and silencing charm. His wand fell from his hand, hitting the ground with a muffled thud against the rug. His hand returned to her, snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

She shifted on the small bench, nudging his face with hers to get back to his lips. Maybe it was the lack of snogging in the last couple of weeks, or perhaps, the growing animosity and tension that had overtaken everyone in the house, but her skin felt like it was on fire. Alive with his touch and crawling to feel more of him.

She nearly pouted when he pulled away from her and she shot him a look when he chuckled. "Why bother locking and silencing the door, if you aren't going to finish what you started, Potter?" She shot at him, her eyes narrowed.

He barked a loud laugh and stood up, "Unless you want to continue this on the bench, I was going to move over there…" He pointed to the sofa that was shoved against the wall next to the fireplace.

He took her hands and pulled her to her feet, leaning down to capture her lips again, successfully silencing her before she could retort. She smiled into his mouth and stumbled backward as he guided them toward the sofa. She fell backward when she felt the upholstered arm hit the backs of her thighs and she let out a small squeak as she tumbled onto the sofa, pulling Harry down with her.

He settled himself between her legs, his hips pressed to hers and their torsos pressed together. He propped himself up on his elbows to avoid crushing her, and dove back to her neck, dragging his tongue up the side of her throat and nipping at her earlobe. She could feel him growing hard against her, as her own body grew hot, aching to feel him.

"Harry," She whined. "Please."

She felt the vibration of his laughter against her throat and she squirmed against him, receiving a soft groan from him in response. She didn't know why she felt so… So desperate. But she wanted to feel him now. She wanted that connection they had in the bathtub, the one she felt at the Burrow. The connection she couldn't feel with anyone but him. His emotions had been able to overtake her from the moment she laid eyes on him over a year ago at Madam Malkin's. His electricity was a brand so unique to him, that she craved it. And she never realized how much she did until she had it in her grasp.

She had spent the last few weeks bickering with him, arguing the situation with Lupin over and over again. They had gone round after round of hurling angry words at one another, slamming doors and walking away. And now, with his hands kneading the soft flesh of her breasts and his lips tracing her collar bones, she wondered how she could ever be angry with him.

It was sinful.

And yet, it wasn't.

There was something so righteous about Harry. Something that even when she was angry, and she could feel his fury swimming under his skin, she was still absolutely enamored with him. Like the fire in her belly that started the day Draco was marked, reached out to the flames burning in his soul from the day Harry himself was marked.

Because he was marked. More so than anyone else, if she really took the time to think about it.

The heat of his flame, of his fight, swallowed her in a way that told her she would follow him to the ends of the Earth. She would walk through hell, stepping into hot coals and gladly feel the soles of her feet burn and peel away if it meant she would be with him. If she could stand in the light that he gave off and blind everyone alongside him.

She gasped as his finger tips brushed her inner thighs under the jean material of the shorts she was wearing, tracing small circles into her skin as he pressed kisses to her lips, cheeks, and neck. She curled her fingers around the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. She lifted her back from the embroidered cushions to remove her own shirt, creating a pile of crumpled cotton on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, as his lips pressed into her collarbone. "I'm sorry I've been so terrible the last few days."

She couldn't help but laugh. "We've all been on edge, Harry. It's- unghh," She groaned, her breath catching in her throat as his hand pushed past the open waistband of her shorts and began tracing her through her knickers.

"Still," He breathed, his voice low and thick. "I've been an arse."

"Harry, I'm going to be far more upset with you if you don't stop talking and-

His mouth slanted over hers as his fingers pushed under the fabric of her knickers and into her center. She moaned into his mouth as they curled within her, stoking the fire that only he could touch. Her hands moved furiously over his torso, tracing the dips and edges of his muscles as they found their way to the button of his jeans and fumbled to get it undone.

She nearly whined from the loss when he removed his hand from her, pushing himself up and sitting back on his knees. He looked down at her, his chest and face flushed. His eyes heavy lidded behind round lenses and black lashes. He gripped her hips, helping her lift from the cushions as he pulled her shorts and knickers down. She kicked them off the rest of the way and sat up, reaching out to shove his jeans and boxer shorts down. He sighed when she gripped him, pumping him in her hand a few times. He leaned forward again, settling himself at her entrance and looking down into her eyes. His glasses slipped down his nose a bit, and she reached up to pull them off.

"No," He said, his breathing already coming in heavy pants. "No, leave them. I want to see you."

She gave the tiniest semblance of a nod and his mouth met hers again. His lips lingered a moment, moving softly against her own. He pulled away from her face again to stare down at her as he sheathed himself inside of her, his emerald eyes staring into her own silvers. She tried to hold his gaze, to look into his eyes as they stared into her, burning into her soul. She felt her lids flutter as he pulled back and began thrusting, her eyes fell closed.

His face buried into the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her as their hips moved in rhythm. She clawed at his shoulders, pressing crescent shaped dents into his sun-tanned skin. She felt a high pitched moan tear from the back of her throat when his hand moved down, finding her pearl and swiping across it in light pressured circles. Her back arched, pressing her breasts into his chest as her legs wrapped around his waist and she locked her ankles in place.

"Fuck, Ellie," Harry groaned, his breath coming in erratic pants as she ground her hips up to meet his thrusts.

She could feel the band that had been tight in her chest for weeks loosening as the coil behind her navel tightened. It wound its way through her, setting her nerves aflame with Harry and threatening to pull her apart piece by piece. She cried out as he pushed into her, shifting slightly and stroking a spot deep inside that she had only become aware of from their time in the bathtub on their first night at Grimmauld.

She teetered the edge, dancing in the flames of the hellfire that was Harry. Crying out to long-forgotten gods she didn't believe in, begging for them to hear her prayers and offer her kindness. To release the coils winding tightly through her body.

Harry's teeth found the tender spot on her throat and the band broke, unraveling completely as she nearly sobbed from the release. She felt herself clench around Harry, begging him to stay as the heat tore through her limbs, filtering down to her fingers and toes. His pace picked up, becoming a little more frantic as he slammed into her three times before falling over his own cliff of moaning cries.

He collapsed on top of her, pressing languid kisses into her neck and chest as his breathing worked to right itself. She combed her fingers through his sweat-damp hair, dragging her nails over his scalp.

"Mm," Harry hummed. "That's nice."

She snickered softly, "All of that, and my nails on your scalp is what's nice?"

"The shagging was nice too," He mumbled into her neck.

"Nice isn't the word I would use," She countered.

He hummed again, the air from his nose tickling her skin. "No, nice probably isn't the right word. Incredible, maybe."

She smiled to herself and pulled his face up to hers. He rubbed the tip of his nose to hers before capturing her lips again, shifting off of her in the process to settle next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him.

They laid together for a long time. Elara watched as the light from the window went from a bright midday shine to a dusky orange glow.

"Harry?" She asked, tilting her chin up a bit to look at his face.

"Hm?"

She bit down on her bottom lip a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. "Do you think we can do this?"

"Do what, love?" He asked, sitting up slightly to better look at her.

"Do you think we can win? I mean, the Order and… and us. Against the Ministry and the Death Eaters… It feels like we're becoming outnumbered."

He sighed, "I know," He said, tightening his arms around her. "And honestly? I don't know. But we have to try, don't we? We have to at least try."

She pursed her lips in thought, twisting her mouth to the side as she looked at him. "I… I know I said before that- that I wasn't so sure that you'd be able to overthrow him, that we would be able to be successful in this…" She trailed off, trying to piece her thoughts together.

"You aren't going to break up with me again now, are you?" Harry asked. His face was serious, but there was a lightness to his tone that suggested he was kidding.

She playfully shoved at his chest, offering a smile. "No, you prat. I am not going to break up with you," She said, the laughter dying in her throat. "I-I think you can do it, though. I think if anyone can do this, it's you."

He was completely silent for several minutes. So long, in fact, that Elara thought maybe she said something to upset him. Finally, his voice came, softer than she had ever heard it before. "I really wish I knew where people find their faith in me."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, "Everyone seems to think I have this grand plan. That I know exactly what I'm doing and... " He trailed off, his brows furrowing together. "I have no idea what I'm doing, El. No idea. I'm going off of the very little information I have from Dumbledore and all of the things we've been able to piece together but… It doesn't feel like it's going to be enough."

"It will be," She said, with more conviction that was probably necessary. "Harry, you underestimate yourself time after time. It's like you're shocked anytime you're able to do something. You haven't just fallen into being who you are, you've built that. People feel as if they can put their trust in you, their faith in you, because they see how hard you've worked to build yourself into being someone who's worth their praise."

"I'm not, though," He said. "I'm not worth their faith or praise or- or whatever! I've got no idea-

"Tosh," She said, cutting him off. "You're worth the praise of a thousand choirs, Harry Potter. There isn't a person alive who can touch the fire within you."

He stared at her, his brows still knit together and his forehead creased in bewilderment.

"You listen to me," She continued. "You can't give up. Even if we don't have all the answers, even if we don't know where to go from here just yet, you can't give up. You take that fire, and you burn the entire city to the ground until we take the Dark Lord down too, okay?"

He nodded, his jaw set tight and a look of determination stealing over his face.

She would be damned if he was unaware of the heat of the flame he carried. She would make sure that he knew. She would make sure he knew how hot and bright he burned. Because Voldemort? He was snow compared to Harry. And she would watch him melt beneath his fingers with joy.

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a/n: IM BACK! Sorry to keep you all hanging for a couple weeks. I just needed to take a little break :)

I hope you liked this chapter, I definitely loved writing this one!

COME CONNECT WITH ME! I have a facebook group now! Mimifreed Writing. I would really love if you all came to visit and chat and hang out. You'll get to see the chapter mood boards I make for every single damn chapter, as well as some sneak peaks to upcoming works and what not. I also have the link to the spoitfy playlist there, if you'd like to listen along as you read!

Just search Mimifreed Writing on FB!

anyway, next update will be in a few days. I'm trying to get into a better place to update multiple times a week on a schedule, but right now, I'm still ironing out those details. I'll have the next chapter up by wednesday though.

Thanks for reading! Please remember to review!

xo

Mimi