The Devil in Me

Until We Say Goodbye on Our Dying Day

The chapter title comes from the song:

Brother by Kodaline.

~ WARNINGS ~

Explicit F/M scene [Harry x Reyna]

The evening of Theo's funeral was as depressing as Harry had expected it to be. There hadn't been a big deal made of it at school, no announcement of his death, and it had barely made the newspapers either.

Those who wished to attend the funeral left the school of their own accord and made their way to Nott Manor, which was on York city's outskirts.

When he walked through the iron gates with Draco, Harry paused.

"Wow."

"Yeah," Draco agreed, "He didn't act like a pompous git, but his family have more old money than mine does."

The country house in front of them was as vast as it was beautiful. The main house was three stories high with a dome, similar in style to the one atop St Pauls cathedral in London. There were two single-story wings on either side of the main building, and lining the path to the front door were hedges and water features.

Harry swallowed and sighed, "And now it's all going to fall to a rival family because they lost their heir."

Draco shook his head, "I wouldn't worry too much on that front. Alfred's wife died when Theo was a baby, but you know that he isn't a saint. He only started to show Theo that he was proud of him when he became a Death Eater, and he has had countless affairs with high profile witches."

Harry made a face; Alfred Nott wasn't an attractive man. He was in his 60's, tall, completely grey, his face so severely scarred that it was ugly. Harry had assumed that Theo got his looks from his mother or that Alfred had been handsome in his day.

"He'll pull an illegitimate child from obscurity, perform the required blood tests and instate said child as his heir," Draco finished.

"Nice," Harry said dryly.

"He's not a nice guy, Harry," Draco said quietly, "There's no point pretending that he is just because he lost his son. Truth be told, I think the likes of you and I are more upset about that than Alfred is."

"And if he is upset, it's because he lost an heir, not a son," Harry said with a nod, "I know, I get it. But it still pisses me off."

Draco nodded too, and they fell silent. Harry tried not to admire the house too much, but it was difficult not to notice it's grandeur. Theo was incredibly modest, having grown up with just as much as Draco, but he supposed that Draco had been spoiled with love, and that was something Theo had never gotten from his father.

When they reached the back of the house, Harry breathed in deeply and squared his shoulders. He knew Theo was dead, but seeing the cloth wrapped body atop the wooden pyre…that was something else. Draco must have been able to tell because he didn't say anything, but he did grip Harry's shoulder and give him a nod.

"We'll be okay. We just need to get through tonight."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

Draco nudged him towards Alfred Nott, and Harry went, albeit grudgingly. Alfred had asked him to give thanks to the fire element, so he was a big part of the proceedings.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Alfred," Harry said quietly when he reached Theo's father.

"And I'm sorry for yours," Alfred said, catching Harry by surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm no fool," Alfred said quietly, "I know fine well that you two were involved, and from the look on your face when you brought his body to me…well, didn't take a genius to work out that it wasn't an informal arrangement."

Harry didn't think Alfred could have used more insensitive or crass words to describe Harry's relationship with Theo if he tried and at his sons funeral no less. It only furthered his dislike of the elder Nott.

"Well," Harry said evasively, "He's gone now, so it doesn't matter much."

Alfred nodded, and Harry caught the eye of an ally who had just made her way over to them.

"Daphne, love," Alfred said, "Thank you for helping us send Theo off."

Daphne smiled politely and kissed Alfred on the cheek, "Of course, Uncle Alfred," she said.

"Ah, and there's Julian," Alfred said, patting Harry on the back and walking over to Julian Crouch.

Harry made a face, and Daphne smiled sadly, "I know, he's awful, isn't he?"

Harry snorted, "He's your Uncle."

"By marriage," Daphne shrugged, "I'm related to Theo through his mother."

"You said," Harry remarked, but he wasn't paying that much attention. His eyes were on the funeral pyre that they were standing in front of.

Daphne said nothing further, but they stood together in peaceful silence for the next few minutes while Alfred spoke to Julian, and then it was time for Theo's send-off.

There didn't tend to be big speeches or eulogies at pureblood funerals; it was just a case of sending the soul off peacefully and then drinking and socialising to commemorate them and to celebrate their life.

Harry swallowed as he took his place in the quadrant, ready to give thanks to his element. He looked up at the guests who had come to see Theo off, and he immediately caught Tom's eye.

The Dark Lord bowed his head at him, and Harry sighed, tearing his eyes away and forcing himself to look at the funeral pyre.

It always began in the east – where the sun rose.

This meant that the person who gave thanks to the air element always began. In this case, that was Daphne. She raised her wand sincerely and created a flurry of snow - with a thrust of her hands, it filled the sky and began to fall around them, covering the wintry, icy landscape.

Harry smiled sadly and did his part. He could have sent flares up as Warrington had at Rosier's funeral, but he didn't want to, and he didn't want to put an end to the beautiful little blizzard that Daphne had started.

As such, Harry did not raise his wand. Instead, he closed his eyes and produced a small ball of fire from his hands. He shaped it into a snake with a frown of concentration and blew it towards the funeral pyre. It danced through the sky and came to a stop above Theo's body – there was an intake of breath from the funeral guests as the snake burst into a firework that lit up the snowy night sky for a moment.

Daphne smiled over at him and gave him a nod.

Harry returned the gesture and looked to Alfred, who was giving thanks to the water element.

Alfred raised his wand and concentrated with a genuinely sorrowful look as a stream of water flowed from the tip of his wand, forming something that looked oddly like a woman.

Alfred nodded at Daphne, who cast another spell on the watery figure, turning it to ice. Harry's breath caught in his throat when he realised what it was – an ice sculpture of Theo's mother, and it was right by the funeral pyre to signify that she was watching over him now.

The lump in Harry's throat threatened to choke him, so he looked down at the ground for a moment while he composed himself. By the time he looked back up, Julian had done his part and thanked the earth element. He had made the earth beneath the pyre rise, and then he had made hundreds of green and white flowers grow out of the cracks between the logs of wood.

Harry raised his wand with the other three, and they all cried, "Incendio!"

The pyre lit up like a beacon, and they all stood in their spots for a couple of minutes to give Theo's soul time to depart before they broke the connection.

When they were allowed to leave, Harry wanted to run away to a quiet part of the garden. But him being Harry Potter, that didn't happen. People pulled him from one conversation to another, and he didn't get peace until at least an hour later.

"You look like you could use this."

Harry looked up at the familiar voice and tried to smile, "Hey Reyna."

Reyna held out a hipflask, and Harry took it gratefully.

He took a swig and sighed, "Thanks."

"You look like shit," Reyna mused, "I guess you did love him."

Harry shook his head, "No, that's the thing, I didn't. I feel guilty because I didn't love him, not like you're supposed to love someone anyway."

Reyna raised an eyebrow, "How are you 'supposed' to love someone, exactly?" she asked.

Harry frowned at the funeral pyre in the distance. Reyna had found him hiding out on the far side of the garden, far away from the water features and hedges. This was more rustic, just an old log cabin with a porch swing in front of it.

"You know," Harry shrugged, "It wasn't romantic or whatever…it wasn't like that. It was comfort."

Reyna kicked the ground and made the swing move, it creaked, but the movement was somewhat comforting all the same, "Does it matter what kind of love it is? There are lots of different kinds of love, you know? According to the ancient Greeks, there were seven."

"Seven?" Harry mused, "That's an important magical number."

"Of course it is. Love is as mystical a magic as soul magic," Reyna said, her eyes also on the funeral pyre. She swung her legs to keep the swing moving, "That's why the two are so linked."

Harry turned to look at her, "Humour me then. Tell me about the different types of love."

Reyna smiled, "Well, you and I know all about the first type, Eros."

Harry snorted, "The Greek God of Attraction?"

Reyna grinned, "You have been listening to my dad, haven't you?"

"He's a good teacher," Harry answered, having another swig from her hipflask then handing it back to her.

Reyna shook her head, "Keep it; you need it more than me."

Harry nodded and looked back to the funeral pyre.

"Eros is otherwise referred to as burning passion. It's intense and often associated with youth or with our first great romance. It's formed mainly from passion or sexual desire, and the Greeks feared it because love like that? It can consume you… its power could destroy you."

Harry thought of Bellatrix's infatuation with the Dark Lord and nodded, "Yeah, it could."

Reyna leant forward, "Philia is the kind of love I think you had with Theo. It's otherwise known as shared goodwill or brotherly love. It's sincere and platonic, the love you would have for a sibling or a best friend. It's more valuable and cherished than Eros because it has the power to build empires. People who share great understanding and respect, who share similar values can forge kingdoms together."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "Theo and I's 'love' if you want to call it that certainly wasn't platonic though. That description you just gave? That's how I feel about Draco."

He didn't say it out loud, but the burning passion that had the potential to destroy you, that seemed to be the way that Harry loved everyone.

"The third type is Ludus or playful love," Reyna said, "It's flirtatious – like when you dance with someone or tease them, or make them laugh."

Harry thought of Daphne with her teasing smile and the thing she did with her eyes when she was flirting with him, and a small smile came to his lips.

"It's a fun kind of love, associated with fleeting romances and passionate affairs usually," Reyna added, "It's all about having fun at the moment with no regard for the future."

"So every one of your relationships then?" Harry teased.

Reyna nudged him in the ribs, "I know home-made curses, and I won't hesitate to use them."

Harry grinned, "You wouldn't; you'd miss my dry wit."

Reyna snorted, "You think you're funny?"

Harry smirked at her, "I think I'm adorable."

Reyna grabbed her hipflask and took a swig before handing it back to Harry. She looked back at the main gathering, but she wasn't focusing on the funeral pyre this time.

"Then there's Pragma which is sometimes referred to as standing in love. It's the sort everlasting love you see between a married couple."

Harry followed her gaze to Lucius and Narcissa, standing together by the funeral pyre. They talked quietly, their foreheads almost touching. It made Harry smile, and he secretly longed to one day experience the love that Lucius and Narcissa had for each other.

"It's the highest form of love," Reyna said softly, "A true commitment requiring understanding and compromise. It's pragmatic and flexible. Anyone can fall in love, but it takes a conscious decision to stay in love with someone for better or worse. It's rare in the world I grew up in."

Harry looked over at her, "Because of arranged marriages?"

Reyna nodded, casting her gaze down.

"Are you betrothed to anyone?" Harry asked curiously.

Reyna shook her head, "My father is miserable with my mother, he never wanted that for Naomi and I, and even when he was in prison, he was the Head of the family, so nothing could have gone through without his approval."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "Well, I suppose that's a godsend then."

"In a way, yes," Reyna admitted, "But in another sense, no. My father is right; maybe marriage would have given me a purpose."

"You don't need marriage to give you purpose, Reyna," Harry said, looking sideways at her, "Just decide what you want to do with your life and make it happen. You don't need a husband to do that."

Reyna laughed weakly, "Oddly enough, the next type of love, according to the Greeks, is Agape. It's otherwise called selfless love. You know, the love you give without expecting anything in return? The love people like Healers have for humanity."

Harry smiled, "You wanna be a Healer?"

"I know, I'd be terrible, right?"

"You might act like the wild child, but I'll hazard a guess that you aced your N.E.W.T's last year," Harry said, giving her a knowing look.

"Apart from History of Magic, yes," Reyna admitted, "But I hardly have the bedside manner of a Healer, do I?"

Harry chuckled, "You can be taught that. I'll talk to Narcissa about it, and she might be able to put a word in for you at the hospital."

Reyna smiled appreciatively but said nothing more.

Harry glanced over at her, "That's only five types of love – what are the last two?"

Reyna replied, "Philautia or self-love. The Greeks divided it into two types – the bad sort of self-love is the sort you see in a selfishly egocentric person who seeks pleasure, fame and wealth and displays narcissistic tendencies. The good kind is the healthy kind of self-love, the belief that we can only love and care for others if we truly love and care for ourselves."

Harry could have snorted. Maybe that was why he seemed so incapable of love, he had never loved himself, and he doubted that he ever would if he was honest.

"Then lastly, there is Storge," Reyna finished, "Otherwise known as unwavering devotion. It's the kind of love that parents feel for children. It's natural and instinctive, a powerful and protective force. It is knowing that you would protect someone with your life, even if they wronged you."

"Unwavering," Harry said, thinking of Hermione once more and feeling a familiar stab of guilt.

"Exactly."

Reyna took his hand, and Harry turned to her.

"But sometimes Eros is the only kind you need," She said, a teasing smile on her face.

Harry wanted to tell her not to go there, to remind her of what her father had said, but he rather stupidly said nothing, which Reyna took as permission. She closed the gap between them and kissed Harry softly, his eyes fluttered shut and by Merlin, how he wanted to spend the night with her and forget about the rest of the world.

But he couldn't.

"Reyna," Harry breathed, pulling away from her, "I can't…your dad…I just can't."

Reyna smiled sadly, "Even as a Death Eater, you're too damn noble for your own good."

Harry couldn't find it in him to smile. He just held out her hipflask, "Here."

Reyna shook her head and got to her feet, "Keep it," she said, kissing Harry on the cheek, "I expect he would want you to have it anyway."

Harry frowned down at the initial engraved into the steel hipflask as Reyna traipsed down the snowy hillside to rejoin the main party.

A. E. R.

Augustus Ebenezer Rookwood. Harry ran his thumb over the initials and felt a wave of gratitude towards Reyna. For one brief moment, it was almost enough to distract him from his pain.

When Harry rejoined the main party, Daphne grabbed him straight away, "Harry, come and meet my parents."

Harry looked at her in alarm, "What? Why?"

"Because you want them on your side, you idiot," Daphne muttered, "My father is half a bottle of firewhiskey into a pissing contest with Lucius Malfoy. Now is as good a time as any to charm him."

Harry snorted in amusement and let her drag him over to Lucius, who was in a debate with the man Harry recognised as Cygnus Greengrass. Narcissa and a woman so beautiful she could only be Daphne's mother were sitting on the sidelines with glasses of wine in their hands, watching the debate with the expressions of women who had seen this same thing several times before.

"Forgive me for interrupting, Lord Malfoy," Daphne spoke clearly, "But Father, this is Lord Potter. He is responsible for leading the party of Death Eaters who rescued Astoria."

Cygnus looked away from Lucius and caught Harry's eye. He had the same sharp, icy blue eyes as Daphne. With a polite nod, he held out his hand, "I owe you great thanks, Lord Potter."

Harry shook Cygnus's hand, "Just Harry, please, sir."

Cygnus smiled, "You never mentioned that he was polite, Daphne."

Daphne gave her father an amused look, "He is the head of the Potter family, Father. Of course, he is polite."

Cygnus chuckled, and Daphne waved her mother over.

"There is no need to introduce Lord Potter to your mother, Daphne," Cygnus said condescendingly, "They will be unable to communicate."

Daphne eyed Harry with amusement as her mother smiled at them. She had the same white-blonde hair as Daphne, the same heart-shaped face and defined features, but her eyes were darker.

Daphne signed, "Mama, this is Harry Potter. He is the boy who saved Astoria."

Lareina smiled and nodded at Harry, then signed at Daphne, "You never told me that he was as handsome as his father."

Harry smiled at that and signed, "Thank you, Lady Greengrass."

Lareina's eyes widened, and Cygnus's almost popped out of his head.

"He signs?" He asked Daphne.

Daphne nodded, and Harry explained out loud while also signing for Lareina's benefit, "A banshee deafened my best friend."

"When you were young, I presume?" Lareina sighed, "You sign very well."

Harry signed back, "No. Only a month ago."

He bit back a smirk at how impressed both Cygnus and Lareina were by this. Lareina looked pointedly at her husband, and Cygnus gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"Harry, would you care to take a walk with me?"

Harry smiled, "Of course."

Cygnus motioned towards one of the hedgerows and summoned an elf over to them. He took two glasses of firewhiskey from the tray the elf held and handed one to Harry.

Harry had to admit, disappearing into the depths of the garden with Cygnus, he felt a little nervous. Convincing his schoolmates and people he knew to join them was one thing, but Cygnus Greengrass was a powerful, influential wizard – a force to be reckoned with, just like his daughter.

"As a businessman, I do find it best to get straight to the point," Cygnus said directly, "While I do thank you profusely for saving my youngest daughter, I hope you know that I am not naïve enough to think that you expect nothing in return."

Harry looked ahead at a water feature, "If I'm honest, Lord Greengrass, I did it as a favour to your eldest daughter. She offered herself to our cause in exchange for my help, but I had no intentions of forcing her to take the mark. It is a life that we choose for vengeance or to fulfil a purpose, and it is not the life for someone with a heart as pure as hers."

They reached the large fountain, and Cygnus sat down on its edge, "You truly ask for nothing in return?"

Harry sat down next to him, "I ask that you do not force either of your daughters to marry Draco Malfoy. If I could ask one thing of you, it would be that you rip up that contract and give them and Draco freewill."

Cygnus eyed Harry with interest, "I had heard that the Malfoy family had taken you in, but I hardly expected it to be the truth."

Harry smiled and sipped his firewhiskey, "It is the truth. Lucius Malfoy has been very accommodating, and Narcissa has shown me the love of a mother for the first time that I can remember."

"They are a good family," Cygnus confessed, "Vain, arrogant, with narcissistic tendencies, yes, but at heart? They are good."

Harry chuckled, "I gather you are somewhat rivals?"

Cygnus smiled, "We control the economy, and they control the political world. It would be unnatural if there were not any clashes, but there is a great deal of mutual respect between Lucius Malfoy and myself."

Harry nodded. He sipped his firewhiskey and looked up at the night sky, "Respect is what all of this is built on," he said, "And I don't mean the Death Eaters, I mean pureblood society. The Dark Lord seeks to restore the order and power that we once had when manors like this were constructed."

"Power is not everything, Harry," Cygnus cautioned.

"No, it is not," Harry agreed, "But power over the Muggles who threaten our very way of life is essential. Look at your line, for example. It has been slowly dying out with every generation and now with your two daughters; the very name threatens to disappear into obscurity. Everything that your family have worked for, centuries of work, will become someone else's legacy."

"If you aim to convert me with ambition, it will not work," Cygnus said with an amused smile, "I was in Ravenclaw, and I was not just any Ravenclaw; I was Prefect and Head Boy. I will not be persuaded into taking a side with promises of power, land or wealth."

Harry smiled too, "Trust me, Lord Greengrass, that is not my intention. I am merely pointing out that the Dark Lords latest initiative is the sort that would prove beneficial to a family like yours."

"The Marriage Law I have heard whisperings about, I presume?" Cygnus asked rhetorically, "Yes, it is certainly intriguing."

"And it will breed out the Muggle blood while simultaneously strengthening pureblood families," Harry said, looking over at Cygnus, "It is as close as we will ever come to a solution that makes the majority of people happy because the majority of us are traditionalists. I know your family stance is neutral, but I am sure that even you can admit that you lean towards the traditionalist side."

"When it is required, yes," Cygnus answered, "But supporting the odd traditionalist Minister for Magic is nothing when compared to this."

"Oh, I know," Harry agreed with a nod. He sipped his firewhiskey, "All I am trying to say is that I think you will admit that a Ministry run by us is preferable to the alternative if we lose the war."

"Which is what? Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister for Magic, I presume?"

"No," Harry replied, "Kingsley Shacklebolt was killed shortly after the Battle of Longbottom Grove. The Jones family seem to have scooped up the ashes of the Army of the Phoenix and whisked them away to their impenetrable castle in Wales. I expect that means, should they win this war, the Jones's would be dominant politically."

Cygnus swallowed and set down his glass, "The Jones family?"

Harry frowned and looked at the older man, "Yes. From what I know, Matthias Jones seems to be the new head of the rebellion."

Cygnus nodded and sighed heavily, "Do you know if they were involved with the Army of the Phoenix when they took Astoria?"

Harry had no idea what Cygnus's sore spot with the Jones family was, but he shook his head, "I don't know for certain. The Dark Lord suspects they stood up to resist us after the Army of the Phoenix suffered a great defeat at the Battle of Longbottom Grove. If it is not too bold, may I ask why their involvement causes you such grief?"

Cygnus looked up in surprise, "Has Daphne spoken to you about the accident that caused her mothers deafness?"

"She mentioned that it happened when Theo's mother died," Harry answered, "But I got the impression that she doesn't like talking about it."

"Of course she doesn't. None of us do," Cygnus said sharply, "And Lareina had nothing to do with it. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Harry frowned but didn't prod any further. He finished his firewhiskey and clicked his fingers, vanishing the empty glasses.

Cygnus got to his feet and motioned into the hedge maze, "Walk with me?"

Harry fell into step with him, and Cygnus shoved his hands into his pockets, "The Jones family were one of the light sides most militant and ruthless families during the last war. While many light families would defend, but not attack, the Jones family would give as good as they got, which made traditionalists and neutrals alike fear them."

Harry remained silent while Cygnus spoke.

"When the war ended, they lost much of their power because of the heavy losses that their allies had sustained," Cygnus elaborated.

"They hid in their fortress and sacrificed their allies like pawns. It was no wonder that Albus Dumbledore was so fond of them."

Harry made a mental note that Cygnus seemed about as fond of Albus Dumbledore as he was.

"The dark side decimated the Bones family, and while there are still descendants through female lines, the Prewett and McKinnon name has died out," Cygnus explained, "All because of the Jones family and their ignorant cowardice."

Wow, Harry thought, He really doesn't like the Jones family.

"We all got complacent after the war ended, but of course, there were still some Death Eaters who manipulated their way out of a jail sentence," Cygnus said with a roll of his eyes, "The likes of Lucius Malfoy and Alfred Nott, for one."

Harry nodded, "Indeed."

"As such, for a year or so after the war ended, there were guerrilla attacks," Cygnus said, his eyes on the half-moon that hung in the clear night sky, "Alfred Nott launched one such attack on the 31st of October, 1982 – a year to the date that you defeated the Dark Lord."

"Who did he attack?" Harry asked.

"Gethin Jones, the head of the family," Cygnus answered, "Gethin was an elderly man, and as such, it was no difficult feat to kill him in such a shock attack. Matthias, his only son, became the head of the family at just 21 years of age. He was an impulsive, stupid boy. He had married his high school girlfriend, Louisa Bones, the moment they left school, and nobody was surprised when the news came out that it had been a shotgun wedding."

Megan Jones, Harry realised.

"Matthias was a Gryffindor, of course."

Harry chuckled, "As a Slytherin at heart, I do not take offence to that," he confessed.

Cygnus smiled, but it was tinged with sadness.

"To avenge his father's death, Matthias launched an attack on the Nott family. He did not want to kill Alfred; he wanted him to suffer like he was suffering. Naturally, he targeted Alfred's wife," Cygnus said as he attempted to keep his tone even.

"Lareina was at Nott Manor that day. Matthias and his band of merry men threw a magical bomb into the house of a mother and toddler. Theo was upstairs when it happened, and an elf got him to safety, but Almina died instantly. Lareina was in another room, so while she escaped unharmed, she lost her hearing."

"And Matthias got away with it?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"There was never any evidence to link him to the crime," Cygnus said distastefully.

"But we all knew that he had done it. Of course, the light had just won the war and the head of the family who helped them do that would have been able to walk away from anything."

Harry sighed, "I'm sorry, Lord Greengrass."

Cygnus smiled sadly, "I think we have spoken of personal enough matters to call each other by our given names, Harry."

With a nod, Harry said, "I can't imagine how awful that would have been for all of you…when you thought it was over and that you were safe."

Cygnus paused and looked Harry in the eye. Those icy blue eyes that had been so cold earlier shone with emotion.

"I will never become a Death Eater, and I do not want to pick a side. Doing so has the potential to damage my families image, not just in this country but with regards to our overseas business as well," Cygnus explained.

"I understand that," Harry admitted, "And for that reason, I would never ask you to be a Death Eater if you did not feel comfortable doing so."

Cygnus held Harry's eye, "I appreciate that, just as I appreciate your honesty this evening. It is for that reason that I will swear my families loyalty to the Dark Lord on the full moon, and in doing so, I guarantee that he has the full support of Greengrass Shipping Incorporated."

Harry smiled and bowed his head, about to thank Cygnus.

"But," Cygnus cut in, his eyes darkening, "I do have one condition."

"And what is that?" Harry asked curiously.

"That when you win, as I am sure that you will," Cygnus said diplomatically, "Make Matthias Jones suffer for the pain he has inflicted on my family. My wife lost her hearing when Astoria was two months old. She has never heard her youngest daughters voice. She has never heard the call of 'Mummy' that every other mother hears. She will never hear Daphne's beautiful singing voice or the words 'I love you' from Daphne or Astoria. He took things from her that she can never get back."

Cygnus's eyes were stormy and grey, "And for that, he deserves to pay."

Harry nodded; he held out his hand, "I agree, Cygnus. And as I believe in killing with karma and have a banshee or two on my side, I think I have the perfect, slow, painful death lined up for Matthias Jones."

Cygnus nodded with a smirk that was as cruel as it was satisfied.

"Then we have ourselves an alliance, Harry."

Harry smiled and shook Cygnus's hand, "No, Cygnus, we have a friendship," he corrected, making the older man smile and nod his head.

Daphne pretended not to be waiting for Harry when he re-emerged from the maze, but from the fact she just happened to materialise by his side with a glass of firewhiskey, Harry guessed that she had been.

"So?"

Harry grinned at her, "It worked. Daphne, I could kiss you!"

Daphne smirked at him, "Woah, Potter, we may be on the same side now but don't get too far ahead of yourself. I'm too smart to be seduced by you."

Harry chuckled and sipped the firewhiskey she had given him, "Well, maybe that's why I like you."

Daphne just raised an eyebrow.

Harry shot her a smile, "You're an angel."

"An angel?" Daphne asked sceptically.

Harry backed away from her, "An angel," he said with a wide grin, "A perky little blonde angel of death!"

Daphne gave him the middle finger in response but struggled to contain an amused smile as Harry strode away to find a quiet spot in the garden.

The moment he saw somewhere quiet and dark, he closed his eyes and concentrated on sending a thought to Tom.

Are you still here?

It took a minute, but then a response came.

No. I gave my condolences and left some time ago while you were brooding with Miss Rookwood.

Harry could have rolled his eyes. Well, I'm not brooding anymore. I'm celebrating because I just had a very fruitful chat with Cygnus Greengrass, and it turns out that thanks to my heroics and our mutual dislike of the Jones family, we now have the full support and loyalty of the Greengrass family.

Tom's glee at this washed over Harry, who grinned in response.

Finally, your months of stupidity have paid off. Remind me to pay you a handsome Christmas bonus.

Very funny, Harry thought back.

In all seriousness, congratulations, Harry. I did not believe that you would succeed, and yet you have, within the year too. You have proven yourself tonight, truly.

Thank you, my lord, Harry thought proudly.

"Deep in thought?"

Harry jumped but then relaxed when he realised that it was only Gus. He pushed Tom out of his head and smiled at Gus, "Something like that, yeah."

"You holding up okay?" Gus asked, sitting down next to him in the darkened corner of the grounds.

Harry shrugged, "I'll be fine."

"Yeah?"

Harry swallowed his grief and pain. He put on his happy persona, the one that he could convince himself was real if he played the part for long enough.

"I'm fine, Gus," Harry said with a false smile, "I'd be better if my moral compass hadn't made me turn your daughter down earlier on, mind you."

Gus chuckled and leant forward on the bench, "Look, I'm probably going to regret saying this but as far as Reyna's guys go? You are one of the better ones."

Harry snorted, "Fucking hell, that's saying something."

Gus shot him a grin, "That's my daughter you're talking about; watch it."

Harry chuckled and thumbed the hipflask in his cloak pocket.

"I don't like the fact she's sleeping around and not settling," Gus admitted, "But if you promise not to string her on, you have my permission to be with her."

Harry frowned, "Nah, Gus. I value our friendship too much to jeopardise that, and I'd not feel right keeping this, by the way," he handed Gus the hipflask.

"Reyna said I could, but that's not her call to make."

Gus smiled, "Actually, it is. I gave it to Reyna when I got out of Azkaban; I told her if she had to go drinking with her friends to use that when she did. When she asked me why, I told the truth – that it was to remind her that even when we argued, I knew what it was like to be that young and impulsive too, even if I had forgotten."

Harry smiled down at the hipflask, "That's a nice story."

Gus patted him on the back and got to his feet, "Hurt my little girl, and you know what I'll do to you."

Harry gave a mock salute and watched Gus cross the garden. He pocketed the hipflask and debated his options. Did he go and look for Reyna or just go back to Hogwarts? With a sigh, Harry shook his head and kicked the ground.

"I'm not doing so great without you, Theo," Harry muttered.

"I mean, it's just not fair. You were never scared of death, and that…that pisses me off because death isn't something that just happened to you, Theo. It happened to all of us. To the people who were left standing at your funeral trying to figure how…we're…" his voice broke, "…how I'm going to live the rest of my life without you in it."

"I miss you too, mate."

Harry jumped to his feet and spun around when he heard the familiar voice, but no one was in sight. He knew the voice had belonged to Theo, but he had no idea if it had been real. Was he drunk? Was he just hearing what he wanted to hear, or was it true what the purebloods believed about funerals and nights like Samhain? Was the veil thinner on such occasions, enabling the dead to communicate?

Harry shook his head and rejoined the party. He caught Reyna's eye across the grounds and beckoned her towards him. She raised an eyebrow but made her way over.

Oblivious to them, Daphne was standing nearby with her parents, and although she was trying not to make it too obvious, she was peering at them curiously.

When Reyna reached Harry, he held his arm out to her, and she hooked hers through it.

"You seem lighter," Reyna mused.

Harry began to lead her back up the grassy knoll towards the cabin where they had talked earlier, "Well, I'm pretty sure I'm drunk, which helps."

Reyna laughed, "Did I tell you that the firewhiskey in that hip flask was home-distilled?"

"Oh, you bitch, I'm not going to be thanking you for that tomorrow morning," Harry teased.

Reyna smirked at him, "Maybe not, but if you let me, I can make it up to you."

Harry unlocked the door to the cabin with ease, and then he pulled her inside, locking the door behind them.

Reyna pushed him onto the sofa and straddled him, her lips instantly connecting with his. Harry wasn't in the mood for foreplay; he was pissed off, drunk, and sad. He threw his wand onto the floor and pulled Reyna's little black dress off.

Reyna rolled her eyes and murmured, "Heathen," against his neck.

Harry shuddered when she vanished his clothes away, exposing him very suddenly to the chill in the unheated log cabin. With a wandless Incendio, Harry lit up the grate behind them.

Reyna eyed him lustfully, "Well, that was hot," she remarked, her lips taking his once more.

Harry quickly shed Reyna of the black lacy underwear she had hidden under her dress. He murmured against her lips, "It's almost like you came here with a plan to seduce me."

Reyna's eyes flashed playfully, "Maybe I did."

Harry grinned and kissed her hard, running his hands down her body until they settled on her hips. She gasped against his lips as he teasingly rubbed his cock against her wet folds before thrusting up into her.

Reyna moaned in response, gripping Harry tightly. She was quieter than Lily, which wasn't the way round he would have put it on first impressions, but he supposed the quiet ones repressed their sexual desires more.

With a quiet moan, Reyna dug her perfectly painted red fingernails into Harry's shoulder, and he hissed in pleasure.

Reyna laughed against his neck; she moved her mouth up and whispered into the shell of his ear, "I did wonder if pleasure and pain were one and the same for you."

She dug one fingernail in deeper and dragged it down his chest, leaving a trail of blood as she did so. Harry let out an involuntary groan of pain and shifted, pinning Reyna down on the sofa and thrusting into her harder than he had before, eliciting a cry of pleasure from her.

Harry smirked. He liked making her lose control like that.

Outside the window, a flare was sent up, signifying that the pyre had burned itself out. In theory, that meant Theo had ascended onto the next plain of life.

Harry paused momentarily.

"This is wrong, we're at a funeral, and we're having sex."

"Exactly, what better time to celebrate living?" Reyna remarked as she ran a nail down his back.

Harry made a noise, somewhere between a moan and a groan, then dropped his head down to rest against her forehead.

"It's grief sex," Reyna added, slipping out from underneath him and pushing him into a sitting position.

She sat on his lap once more and looked him in the eye, "It's healthy."

Harry's breath caught as Reyna moved her lips to his chest.

"It's selfish," Harry countered.

"It's natural," Reyna said, her lips moving lower still.

Harry was pretty sure that he was done objecting, even if he did feel like he was pissing on Theo's memory by screwing Reyna at his funeral.

But his objections died in his throat when Reyna's mouth reached his cock. He groaned and reached down to grab her hair.

"Yeah, grief sex," Harry agreed readily, "Totally natural."

* TBC *