A Second Chance

by Breanie

What if Sirius didn't spend twelve years in prison, but was given a trial after four years? Follow the story of Sirius Black as he learns what it means to be a father/brother/guardian to his young godson & the story of Harry Potter, a young boy with a loving home who learns about the Marauders from the two men who should have raised him. Slow-burn Hinny. M for sex & violence.

265. Chapter 265

Author's Note:

I have had quite a few people mention to me that this fanfic has been recommended on TikTok — thank you! If anyone knows where, I'd love to see the link on my Tumblr! Thank you!

Thanks to Dusk and Sam for helping me with my basket.

Dusk, Seriously Sam, and Bumlewis all received an early look at this chapter, and every one of them was completely shocked by how much they loved this new couple (which surprised me). I look forward to hearing people's thoughts.

As to Murray, it turned out a bit longer than I planned, but I'm happy with it. And you get some of my fun WWI knowledge and a bit of my Canadian pride as us Canucks know exactly how important Ypres was.

Reviews and Comments: To darkhk: No, I'm sorry, but Finn is dead. To ANewRanger: Thank you and to be honest, I have no idea how I keep writing either. To Wolf's scream: I definitely think Harry and Ginny are good for each other and unfortunately, Ginny did have to go through that. Something like what she went through just doesn't go away overnight. Dragomir might be, we shall see. To Nuno Neves: Thank you! I have a few twists and plans for Snape along the way. And I liked the idea of James being just as stubbornly noble as his son. To UltimateChoober: Yes, yes, they did. To Dianne: Of course Neville would talk about trees out of her nervousness lol. As to a ship name, I like Nevannah. VCE is Vampire Confederacy of Europe. To Guest: Thank you for calling my story literature. To ahlem stelena: When is Crouch going to die? Not soon enough I'm afraid. To tim2604: Yes, Ginny is very strong and I think that Harry being Harry is what helped her face her fear. They both needed that moment in so many ways. Snape is definitely a dick. To The Booknerds: Thank you! I've been trying to write Neville well so, I'm glad you think that I did his character justice. To xXMizz Alec VolturiXx: Thank you! I think Harry needed to have that conversation with Remus. To DeadFish37: Finally? Well, I suppose LOL.

To alix33: Neville should definitely be proud of his work! To Tiegdalewills15: Yes, so many emotions indeed. To nothatchhavi: Thank you! Can Snape help the girls? Yes. But will he? That's the question. To WinkingSkeever: Thank you. To SeriouslySam: Yes, that was the beginning of Ginny healing and yes, Apricity Lane! Thanks again for letting me use it! And of course Fleamont would be Sluggy's idol! To Nightwing2013: Well, Voldemort doesn't really care what happens to the women now, he more or less considers them having done their job as broodmares and just wants them out of his hair until they give birth. The Court of Tara… I hope they do get some justice indeed. Neville didn't plant a Whomping Willow, it was a Weeping Willow. To Steelcode: Neville is totally making progress! And there's no portrait of James and Lily because they died so young they never made one. To rodrimiry: Thank you! I think Nevannah is adorable myself! I agree, the Hinny scene needed to happen. And I do think that Snape hated Sirius more than James, especially after the werewolf incident.

To Chris: Thank you! I am always pleased to hear I didn't disappoint! To DetroitNate: I think you meant minus the Crouch stuff otherwise I am very confused as to why you think Harry is a sadistic SOB lol. To junk1ord: Lovely to hear from you again! I'm so happy you loved seeing Neville and Hannah! To FighterPilot: Thank you very much! It can come on suddenly and that's so important for both of them to understand it. As to "whenever I get a notification of a new chapter, I wait until I know I have nowhere to be for like 2 hours so I can live completely in this world you created," — that is the best compliment, thank you! To Lara: Thank you very much! To speedsONEandONLY: No, closing the curtains doesn't automatically silence them, they are only drapes of heavy material after all (muffle certainly, but not silence). Haha, Neville HAS already turned botany into foreplay! To pix25: Yes to Hannah and Neville indeed! To Mikhail: Thank you! To Chintan: Thank you for thinking my Nevannah moment was so sweet!

To Guest: Thank you for loving Zee and her family as much as I do! She should totally be in the original series! Haha, happy to give you second-hand embarrassment from Percy. To JamesTKent: Thank you! To Bumlewis: Watching Harry cope by himself is painful, but sometimes I feel like he needs to work it out in his head first. To ManyGrey: I'm so happy you finally caught up, Hung! I've missed your thoughts! Fuck you, Tom, for many things indeed! To TheLadyGagaSimp: Aw, I'm sorry you think it's torture to wait, but thanks! I'm glad it was one of your favourite chapters since Finn was brutally slaughtered LOL. To SazJ: Thank you! I loved the Japanese Cherry Blossom tree as well, it was so perfectly Nevannah! To Maya: I agree with you about Zee and I have no plans of giving her any romantic entanglements in the near future. She and Sirius were soulmates and she can totally be strong alone.

To JonathanRL: I'm so happy you've caught up! I've loved your comments along the way! Thank you so much for taking the time to leave so many lovely reviews! To PurpleLotus: Harry is definitely supportive and sweet, of course he wants to be everything Ginny needs. As to learning the truth about Snape, I very much agree. To Raindrops & Flowers: Remus is always the wise mentor, isn't he? Yes, we have some Remadora coming up soon. To Jmcglynn522: Thank you! Voldemort dismissing the Fae is definitely not good, but he has bigger fish to fry! To Ironhidensh: Very bad things do need to happen to Crouch Jr. To GryffindorHealer: Thank you! It does take something and someone strong to overcome that. To Prewishjay13: He is maturing nicely, isn't he? Thank you! To briana_t: Thank you! To AQuickRead91: Thank you! The king of Tara will return. To Leapyearbaby29: Thank you! Voldemort believes Draco and Blaise are dead, yes. Harry and Ginny aren't ready for that step yet. To Andrew4815: I don't disagree with you about Snape, but I believe that Remus is the type of bloke to always see the best in people, to give people the benefit of the doubt, and to forever be optimistic that people will make the right choice. He knows how terrible people can be and how quickly they can judge you and he doesn't want to be the one to do the same, even when he's wrong.

My posting schedule: Bi-weekly.

Thanks to Dusk for her amazing editing skills.

As always, thank you very much for reading and please, please review!

Your reviews give me life! They give me inspiration! And they make me want to keep writing for more than just myself! Thank you for all of your continued support!

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CHAPTER TWO-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE:

Ginny was becoming more worried about Theo the deeper into the year they went. He wasn't visibly grieving anymore, but she wasn't sure he was back to his regular self either. Valentine's Day had come and gone, leaving Theo feeling even more broken. He'd spent the day crying and eating ice cream and Ginny had done her best to comfort him as they made an ice cream bar in the kitchens. She'd said as much to Harry when they went to their tower room to snog later that night and Harry assured her that he would be all right, but that a holiday about love was bound to get to him.

Now they were almost into the middle of March and she knew that he was drinking even more than before. She'd seen him snogging or heard that he was snogging a lot of different boys. Colin told her that he was basically just giving out free blowjobs to whoever wanted one. Harry and Ron had spent a few nights drinking with him which annoyed her to no end.

She knew that Harry was trying to help, but she just wasn't sure if helping Theo drink was really helping. But Ron and Harry both swore that he talked to them and Ginny felt a little relieved at those words. Maybe he really did just need it to help him grieve. Maybe drinking with friends as opposed to drinking alone was what he needed.

But watching him was becoming more and more difficult for her, and she wished that she could help him, but she honestly didn't know how. He was spiralling down a dark hole and no matter how much she reached for him, he wouldn't accept her hand. He was ignoring Colin most of the time now, ever since he'd told him that they were just friends. Whenever she couldn't find him, she'd borrow the Marauder's Map from Harry, and find him holed up in an empty classroom or broom cupboard with a bloke. He was letting them take advantage of him and no matter how much he insisted that he was fine and that he was in control, she knew that he wasn't.

The drinking concerned her more than anything. He tended to stay sober during his classes, but within an hour after dinner, he was slurring his words and Ginny knew that he was getting supplied from somewhere in the castle. Harry had suggested that the house elves could be supplying him with it, but Ginny knew that wasn't true. House elves had orders from the headmaster and supplying students with copious amounts of alcohol would clearly not be allowed. She was pretty sure that he was getting it from his own house elf, if anywhere.

It worried her and she didn't know how to reach him. She and Harry had both tried to talk to him, but to no avail. He swore that he was fine. The fact that he was all alone in the Slytherin dorm didn't make her feel better either. He didn't have his brothers there and it was making him just fall apart around them. She said as much to Bill in her last letter and wondered if there was a way that they could do something or could say something to Theo to help snap him out of whatever this funk was that he'd fallen into.

The last thing that she had expected was for Bill to show up at the castle. He spoke to Dumbledore and then asked to take Theo out for the afternoon. The look on Theo's face when Bill told him that they were going out had been priceless.

"Have fun," Ginny said, kissing Theo's cheek.

Theo wasn't sure fun was on his list.

He was still feeling hungover from the vodka he'd had the night before. The chaser of bourbon he'd taken that morning hadn't done much to clear his head. He followed Bill out of the castle, incredibly confused as to why Bill Weasley would have come to see him to begin with, let alone why he would show up now instead of next week at the official Hogsmeade trip.

He knew that Ginny was worried about him.

He knew that Harry and Ron drinking with him was their attempt to get him to slow down, he wasn't stupid.

But he also couldn't seem to stop. It was the only way that he knew how to dull the pain and the last thing he wanted was for Bill to lecture him about that.

Bill didn't speak, so neither did Theo. He merely shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down as the cold hit his face, sobering him up a bit. When they stepped inside the warmth of the pub, Theo was both relieved and nervous. Bill led him over to a table in the corner and ordered them both a cup of tea.

"Why did you bring me here?" Theo asked when Bill sat the tea in front of them.

"Why do you think I brought you here?"

Theo scowled into his drink. "Because I'm missing classes and Ginny told you that I'm a mess."

"You haven't been paying attention in your classes as much as you should be, no," Bill said, sipping his tea. "But I didn't come to see you to lecture you on your academics and Ginny didn't have to tell me that you're falling behind in your work. I've seen you in the Wizengamot. In the last session, you stared at your hands the entire time. You don't participate, you don't listen, and you haven't been there, not mentally. We need you there, Theo."

"What's it to you?"

Bill taped his fingers on the table. "You have people who care about you, Theo."

Theo stared down into his drink. "I'm fine."

"From what I'm hearing from Ginny and Ron, you're not. From what I'm seeing with my own eyes, you're not. You're hungover right now. How much have you been drinking?"

"That's none of your business. I'm old enough to make my own choices."

"Yes, you are," Bill said, carefully. "And smart enough to know when you're making shit ones."

"You can't tell me how to run my life," Theo spat. "I'm Lord Norfolk, I'm…"

"You're what?"

Theo's hands shook as he gripped the table. "I'm completely worthless without my title."

Bill stared at him. "We both know that's not true. I don't have a title, does that make me worthless?"

"No, it just… you're a cursebreaker, you have things to… I have nothing."

"You have a hell of a lot more than nothing. Drinking to forget what you don't have doesn't help."

"It helps me sleep."

"If you need help sleeping, Madam Pomfrey can give you a dreamless sleep potion."

"They make me groggy."

"Well, I'd rather be groggy than hungover every bloody day," Bill said. "Ginny may have written to me about you, but only because she's worried and others are too. She says that you've been drinking a lot more than just to help you sleep. Ron's mentioned he and Harry have watched you get completely pissed more than once."

"It helps me forget."

"Theo, there are people who you can talk to, people who may be able to help —"

"—I don't need help!" Theo spat, bitterly. "Finn is dead! He was my future!"

Bill shook his head. "No, he was part of your future. He wasn't your whole future, Theo. Do you think that he would want you to act like this? Do you think that he would want you to just give up on yourself?"

"I don't know what he would want because Abraxas Malfoy bloody killed him!"

"You do know what he would want," Bill said, quietly. "Finn rescued you from Macmillan. He loved you and I know that you loved him. I know that you will always love him, but his death doesn't mean that you have no future. I'm not saying that you have to find love today or tomorrow, but one day you will love again. You will find a bloke who you deserve. But today you need to stop drinking. You need to pull yourself together and you need to stop throwing yourself around like you don't matter. You matter, Theo."

Theo's eyes blurred with tears. "I just want to feel something again. I feel so empty inside, like my heart was blown to pieces and spread out by the wind along with the flowers he became."

Bill reached across the table and took Theo's hand in his. "Part of it was, but not all of it. You have a big heart, Theo, and it's easily bruised because you wear it on your sleeve, but it will heal. I promise."

Theo nodded, blinking back his tears. "Are you a big brother to everyone, then?"

Bill smiled. "Only to those who need it. I have a bit of practice."

Theo's lips curved before he took a long sip of his tea. "You're good at it."

"Thanks. Does that mean that you might actually listen?"

Theo sighed, his fingers running up and down the warmth of the cup. "It's not just Finn, Bill. I miss Draco and Blaise. I'm all alone in Slytherin and… I wish they were here."

"It must be strange having the whole dorm to yourself."

"The beds and desks disappeared as if they never were there and I just… it feels more empty that way. I feel more alone."

Bill nodded. "I can imagine that it would feel that way. But you're not alone. I don't know where your friends are, but I do know that they're safe. If they were here, do you think that they'd be letting you act like this? Do you think that they'd want you to throw yourself around to different blokes? I've done it. I've done my share of sleeping around. It's fun for a while, sure, but nothing feels more empty than just being a warm body for someone. You know what love is and you know that sleeping around isn't going to help you find it again."

Theo tapped his fingers against his tea cup, his eyes on the tea leaves. "I just want to feel something."

"You will," Bill promised. "I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but it takes time. There will be other relationships, other men to strike your fancy."

"I just want someone to hold me," he whispered.

Bill smiled. "We all do. Ginny gives great hugs and she's always around when you need her. I'm here anytime you need me and so are my parents. You have people who care about you. You have people who want to help. I promise you, you're not alone."

Theo's bottom lip trembled before he drank deeply from his tea and for the first time since Finn died, he felt a little glimmer of hope. His eyes met Bill's as he spoke. "Too bad you found someone. I always told Ginny that I'd let you do me in a heartbeat."

Bill chuckled. "I'm flattered, but I'm very straight and madly in love with Fleur."

"I know," Theo said. "I know how amazing that feels. Treasure every moment with her."

"I will," Bill told him. "And you? Are you going to listen to what I said? Maybe stop the drinking at least for a start?"

Theo finished off his tea before he nodded. "I think I can do that."

Bill nodded. "Remember that you have people to talk to and if none of us are the right person, remember you also have Na'eemah. Ginny said that you found her helpful after the whole Macmillian situation. Reach out to her again. She's an incredible mind healer and I know that she would be more than willing to help you where you need it."

"I don't need a mind healer," Theo said.

"It's someone else to talk to if you need it, that's all," Bill said, kindly. "Keep it in mind." At Theo's nod, he stood up. "I'm going to order us some lunch and then you're going to tell me what you thought about the last Wizengamot meeting and the new security protocols."

"I am?"

"You are," Bill told him. "The fae are very much on our side, Theo. They want justice for their prince and are looking to help. You know more than you think you do. We're going to talk about it. We're going to talk about what Finn told you and what the fae can do to help us. I'll even let you check out my arse while I walk away."

Theo snorted and Bill winked at him as he headed to the bar. Theo did check out his arse and his heart felt lighter. Who knew that a simple chat with Bill Weasley could make him feel so much better? Time would heal all wounds, but that didn't mean he couldn't heal bit by bit, hour by hour, and day by day. Bill was right, it took time.

It was about time Theo gave it a chance to work. One step at a time.

~ ASC ~

When Bill walked into Fleur's flat later on that afternoon, he felt drained, but relieved. He wasn't sure if he'd actually gotten through to Theo, but he felt hopeful about it. He felt that he had helped the young man come to a crossroads and now it was up to Theo to decide which road he wanted to take.

"Well, 'ow did it go?" Fleur asked, coming out of the bedroom, heels in her hands.

Bill took a moment to admire her in her skirt and blouse before he kicked off his own shoes and took a seat on the sofa. "Good, I think. I feel like I got through to him."

Fleur moved to sit in his lap. "What did 'ou say?"

He shrugged. "I don't even remember, to be honest. But I did say something about how he shouldn't throw himself around like he doesn't matter. I told him how it's easy to sleep around, but it's lonely."

Fleur pressed her lips to his cheek. "And he listened?"

"I think so," Bill said, turning to rest his cheek against hers. "I think I hit a nerve or made him think or something, but he took note of it. We spoke about the Wizengamot and he even talked about Finn a little. I think it was good for him."

"You're such a good man, Bill."

Bill kissed her. "That kid has grown on me. I admit, when we were in Anguilla, I wasn't too sure about him. Then Ginny wanted to share a room with him — which I wasn't too keen on even though he's gay, but when she had that nightmare and he comforted her… he's an incredible young man. I don't want to see the loss of Finn break him."

"Finn was a nice young man," Fleur said. "I only met 'im zat one time, but I liked 'im."

"He was," Bill agreed. "I liked him, too, but he was… he was too perfect. Don't get me wrong, he was great and he made Theo happy, but it was such a fairy tale story, pardon the pun. Prince saves boy, boy falls in love with prince… Theo is going to do great things one day with the Wizengamot. He's smart and he thinks ahead and I'm not saying that he wouldn't have achieved that with Finn around, but… I don't know what I'm saying."

Fleur nodded. "It will make 'im stronger. As terrible as zat sounds, it will."

Bill held her close, burying his nose in her hair. "Yeah, yeah it will." He held her for a long moment before he sighed. "You still want to go shopping for paint, don't you? You're all put together and looking lovelier than ever."

"Oui," Fleur said, hopping off his lap. "We must find what we want for our new 'ome."

Bill grudgingly let her pull him to his feet. "Have I mentioned how much I don't like shopping?"

"Oui," she repeated. "But for me 'ou will adore it, oui?"

He sighed. They did have a lot of renovations that they wanted to get done and finding paint colours was only one of those steps. "I know. Let's go choose some paint colours."

"And we need to pick out ze countertops for ze kitchen," Fleur reminded him.

Bill tried not to groan at the prospect. He had a feeling that it was going to be a very long day. But as he admired his fiancée's legs in the skirt and heels, he thought maybe some things would definitely make it worth it.

~ ASC ~

Ginny stared at the article that she had finally finished writing. It had taken more out of her than she had thought it would. She'd spent hours editing and fine tuning, trying to make it flow just right; weeks researching, tweaking, re-writing. She felt like she had poured more of herself into it than she had planned on and it both thrilled and terrified her. She tapped her fingers on the parchment before she rolled it up and left the Herald to find her brother. Her mirror went off just as she made it the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Hi, Bill."

"Hey, Firecracker. Thought you'd like to know, I think he listened."

Relief tore through Ginny. She hadn't wanted to admit it aloud, but she had really been depending on Bill to help snap Theo out of his funk.

"Really?"

Bill nodded. "Yeah. Keep an eye on him and let me know. I told him after the next Wizengamot session we'll grab a pint. I'll do my best to keep an eye on him as well."

"You're the best brother, Bill."

"And don't you forget it," he teased. "I don't want to hear any nonsense of any other redheads being told that they're your favourite."

"Promise," she said as her brother disappeared from the mirror.

She put the mirror back in her pocket, itching to go find Theo before she stopped herself. No, she would give him some time to himself to reflect upon whatever it was he and Bill had spoken about. Right now, she needed to talk to Ron. She found him in the common room playing chess with Neville and she sat down next to him.

"Neville, can I borrow my brother for a bit?"

Neville leaned back in his chair. "Gladly. I'm losing anyway."

Ron grinned. "I told you, it's about the long game. You have to think ahead."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, he knows. Walk with me."

Ron frowned as his long legs caught up with her in two steps. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Ginny said, passing him the parchment once they were outside of the portrait hole. "I think I might have actually finished it."

Ron's eyebrow rose before he glanced down at his sister's neat writing. He leaned back against the wall of the hall as he read it. He stared at her when he finished. "Ginny, this is great! How did you find out so much about him?"

"It just felt right writing about him. I needed to learn as much as I could."

"I can't believe that you found out so much about him. The way you describe the battles he was in, the way the smoke floated into the trenches and the way the gas was used... You even mentioned Shadow, that dog from my dream. I feel like I was there."

"Weren't you?"

Ron shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder. I told Hermione."

"Good," Ginny said. "What does she think?"

"She thinks like you, that it's fascinating. She even went on to say that maybe I lived as him in a past life and that's why we're connected like we are. I don't know about that or what that kind of knowledge could do for me or if it's even true, but it's something else to think about."

"Have you had any more dreams?"

"Nothing more than the usual ones. I'm sitting in the trench. I can smell piss and whisky and blood. My mouth tastes like blood and earth and there are rats everywhere. Rats feeding on the dead, running around. Someone passes me a smoke. I can't light it because my matches are wet so, I just breathe it in. It calms me. There's a dog with his head on my knee and a man nearby crying in his sleep."

Ginny reached out to touch her brother's arm. "Do they scare you?"

"Sometimes," Ron admitted. "Mostly they feel like foggy memories that I can't quite grasp."

Ginny nodded. "Well, maybe you have them for a reason. Maybe understanding what Michael Murray went through will help you in some way."

Rom frowned. "I really couldn't say, but for now, I can deal with it. And this article, Ginny, it's incredible. Did you get all of this from Birmingham?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. Some of it for sure, but the rest was from other sources. It's why it took me so long to write it. I found his nephew, Ron. He lives in Galway and he sent me some of his letters from the war. I didn't tell him that I was a witch, obviously, and Colin helped me write them so that I didn't give anything away. He sent them to Colin's house and then his parents sent them to Colin here at Hogwarts. Muggle mail is much slower. We thought that he had no family, but it turned out he did have a sister-in-law who survived and had a son. The nephew kept all of the family heirlooms and memories from the war."

"This is brilliant, Ginny, really. Thank you for writing this."

"You're welcome. It was fun," she admitted. "I liked interviewing the nephew and reading about Murray's past, collecting the evidence. You never know, maybe if Quidditch doesn't work out, I could be a journalist."

Ron grinned. "You'd be great at it."

"Thanks. So, do you think that I can publish it in the Herald?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think you should. It's an interesting piece on the mystery that is the Department of Mysteries so, why not? People should know about Murray and what he did. As you said, he was a hero."

"I agree. I'm going to show it to Colin first. He gets the final say."

Ron nodded again. "Tell him I said he'd be a prat not to publish it."

Ginny beamed at him, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "You know, sometimes you can be really sweet."

"Don't worry, I won't let it get to my head."

She laughed and hurried off to find Colin, a skip in her step, eager to get her friend's opinion on the article.

~ ASC ~

The Hogwarts Herald plopped down in front of Harry as he was doing his Charms homework two days later. Harry's eyes widened as he stared down at the article. There was a large picture of a military unit on one side, homemade gas masks over their faces, a second photo of men with gas masks and homemade masks on horses, and a smaller photo of a man with a border collie and a black cat. Across the top it read "An Unknown Hero by Ginny Weasley."

"You wrote under your own name?"

Ginny nodded as she sat next to him in the library. "It didn't seem right to publish this under Compass."

"Does this mean that I finally get to read it and not just the random notes I've seen scrawled about?"

She nodded again and Harry picked up the school newspaper. He'd seen snippets of her work. Little paragraphs about this and bits of research, but he was anxious to read the whole article together, to see what she had come up with him.

What makes a hero?

This is a question that has been plaguing me. Is a hero always someone who rushes in to save the day? Is it always the wizard who defends us from harm or the witch who conquers the castle? Are they always people looking for recognition or are they truly just men and women trying to do good? Are they heroic without meaning to be? Heroes can come in many different forms and one such hero is an unknown Muggle who deserves to be known named Michael Murray.

Mick, as he was affectionately called by his friends, loved animals. In fact, if he had been a wizard, Magizoology would be his clear career choice. Being a Muggle, he chose to work as a Veterinarian. This is someone who cares for animals, heals them, and studies them, much in the way that our magizoologists do with magical creatures. His love and respect for animals was so strong that when he died, his brain was taken by the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries to be studied.

A hero's brain.

But what made Mick a hero? What made him stick out to the Ministry of Magic as someone who needed to be studied? The answer is quite simple: His life.

Michael Patrick Murray was born on the fourth of March in 1896, the fourth boy of Thomas and Eilish Murray in Galway, Ireland. He loved animals early on and in 1912 enrolled in the London Veterinary College at the age of sixteen. There he learned how to care for animals who were hurt or malnourished, how to tend their wounds, and how to help them heal. He loved his job. Working with animals made him happy.

Then in 1914, war broke out in the Muggle world. Not just any way, but a World War. A war they called the War to End All Wars.

Tensions had been building for decades between European countries vying for more power. Countries began to ally themselves with each other, trying to keep the peace while building up their own armies just in case a war did erupt. Britain soon joined forces with Russia and France in an alliance they called the Triple Entente or the Allies. But it wasn't just those three countries. Each European power held dominance over countries all over the world so, when the Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated by a Bosnian-Serb Nationalist causing Austria-Hungary to proclaim that Serbia had directly attacked them, needless to say, tensions were running high.

The Ministry of Magic was concerned with these tensions themselves. The International Confederation of Wizards found themselves meeting almost weekly to discuss whether or not their respective countries should involve themselves in these troubling Muggle affairs. In the end, they decided not to, but the Muggle world was still spiralling with the assassination of the archduke and the chaos that ensued caused debris to fall like dominoes. The death of the archduke set off a chain reaction that had been building for decades.

Germany offered their ally, Austria-Hungary, full support over anything they chose to do to deal with Serbia so, the country gave them a list of ultimatums that essentially told them if they did as Austria-Hungary asked, they wouldn't invade their country. Russia supported Serbia as the big brother and promised to defend them if anyone were to attack them. Serbia wanted to stay independent so, they refused the ultimatum. Austria-Hungary then invaded Serbia causing Russia to then declare war on Austria-Hungary.

This is where things get complicated.

All of those alliances that had been made were suddenly clicking into place. Because Russia declared war on Austria-Hungary, Germany, being the ally of Austria-Hungary, then was forced to declare war on Russia. So, then Russia had to declare war on Germany. Germany, who wanted to take back the two French provinces of Alsace and Lorraine (a constant territorial struggle for centuries between the two countries), then declared war on France, Russia's other ally. France was then forced to declare war on Germany which left Britain wondering what to do with both of their allies now at war. The last thing that Britain wanted was to find itself at war, but then Germany led their army through neutral Belgium, attacking France. Belgium was officially a neutral country and with this uncalled for attack, Britain was then at war. With Britain at war, other countries soon followed into place, one domino after another until it truly had become a world war with over thirty nations fighting all over the world.

Mick, a student at the London Veterinary College, was watching his friends volunteer to fight. He had followed the news following the assassination of the archduke and wondered how long it would be until the war inevitably erupted. As a student, he was on the fence about what to do because he was Irish.

Ireland had declared themselves neutral, not wanting to be involved in what they called a "British war." Ireland was trying to get away from British rule altogether and weren't interested in sending their own men out to fight for Britain, but Mick was living in London. When his best friend Blake Powell joined up, he knew that he couldn't let his friend go off alone.

By 1915, nineteen-year-old Mick was a Second Lieutenant working in a field hospital in France under the AVC, the Army Veterinary Corps, in the newly established 17th Mobile Veterinary Section of the 18th Division of the Royal British Army with his friend Blake Powell. Murray's job was aiding the animals, healing them to the best of his ability, and allowing them to return to duty after treatment. The field hospital in France could take up to two thousand patients and the MVC soon found themselves very busy.

Murray helped out horses and dogs, mules and other animals that were hurt as a result of the war. It was a mix of malnourishment, dehydration, and battle injuries. Explosions caused animals to lose limbs, to hearing loss, and in some cases loss of eyesight because of poisonous gas.

Murray was working in Ypres when the Second Battle of Ypres took place in 1915. The Allies were fighting for control of Ypres in western Belgium against the Central Powers when the Germans used poisonous gas as a weapon, surprising the Allies. Without proper uniforms or masks, men were forced to urinate on their handkerchiefs and tie them around their nose and mouth because the ammonia from the urine helped neutralize chlorine. Many horses and dogs were killed by the gas or had their eyes burned. Men lived and slept in muddy trenches. They were wet and damp, malnourished and dehydrated. They had cigarettes but no dry matches, letters written home with delays in sending them. The air smelt like gunpowder, urine, earth, and the dead. No Man's Land, a dangerous area separating the two armies was full of the dead, the dying, and even more danger.

Dogs were often sent through and around as messengers. Horses became stuck in the mud or caught on the barbed wire. When the gas floated across the trenches, the animals suffered worse off, unable to cover their eyes the way the men were able to. Murray worked tirelessly to try to help as many animals as he could, to provide them with masks out of the materials available and to deal with the aftermath of the gas attacks. This wasn't only physical, but mental as well. He nurtured animals, making sure they felt safe after such a traumatic experience.

If men were suffering from the dampness, the fear of rats, swollen feet, and from a lack of sleep, the animals were experiencing the same. The sound of explosions in the air, death all around them, and watching rats the size of cats feast on the dead would be enough to traumatize anyone. Murray made sure that the animals were just as well cared for as the men who needed healing. His care and compassion was well known even among the other veterinarians.

In October of 1915, Murray's unit left Belgium and the trenches to head to Egypt. Murray was suffering a bad case of trench foot, where his left foot was swollen and blistered. The move to Egypt prevented his foot from becoming seriously infected and the change in weather helped him heal himself, but he didn't take a break from working with the animals. He claimed that he could still rest while doing his work. Egypt brought him into contact with camels where he was able to work alongside a well known veterinarian named General Lateef Nassar. He soon ended up in Salonika where he stayed for the rest of the war on the Macedonian front fighting the Bulgarians. As a veterinarian, Murray wasn't always directly in the line of fire, but he was forced to fight his way out of situations when it came to keeping the animals safe. Murray always put the safety of the animals above his own.

When the war finally came to an end in 1918, Murray's unit was marched to Turkey until the Ottoman Empire agreed to sign the armistice. The unit continued to move forward, occupying the Dardanelles Forts as peacekeepers until 1923. Between 1923 and 1925, Murray travelled from Greece to Romania to Russia with the Border Collie he'd rescued in Belgium named Shadow. He saved a black cat in Romania with only one ear, who he named Scratch. He spent time in Finland before finally returning to England in 1925 where he was hired as a veterinarian at the very college that he had once trained in. Shadow and Scratch roamed the college with him.

His friend Blake had been killed in Greece. Missing his friend and his family, Murray decided to go home to Galway only to learn that tragedy had struck. Mail was difficult to send throughout the war so the lack of news hadn't alarmed him. He had three older brothers, two killed in the war and the last one executed by the British for his role in the Easter Rising. While the War to End All Wars had been taking place, the Irish had been fighting for independence from British rule and chaos had ensued. The Spanish Flu killed Murray's father in 1919 and his mother had passed just before he'd started at the college. The Murray family had been decimated.

But when Mick returned to Galway, he found Erin, his eldest brother's widowed wife and their twelve-year-old-son, Thomas. He wrote to her and kept her updated on his life, doing his best to provide a fatherly role to his nephew. It was where this journalist was able to gain some more insight into the life of one Mick Murray.

Murray wanted to be closer to his nephew in case there was anything that Thomas might need and it was how he found himself in Croagh Patrick Mountains. He took on a fatherly role and even bestowed upon his nephew a love of animals.

One day in the early spring of 1932, Murray made his way into the Croagh Patrick Mountains with Thomas. They were making plans to camp under the stars and stumbled upon an abandoned nest of baby griffins. The mother was found dead nearby and Murray immediately knew that the babies wouldn't survive without help. He sent his nephew back for supplies and they took care of them. Murray worked tirelessly to keep them hydrated and nourished in the absence of their mother. He camped there with them, sleeping with them and feeding them when they needed it. It was how Agent Atlas Kellerman and Agent Marius Derrick from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures came across him in April of 1932.

The agents were fascinated by this Muggle's kind heart; how he cared for these baby griffins even though he had no idea what kind of creatures they were. He wasn't worried by their magical signature, but only concerned about them being a creature in need. Kellerman and Derrick were planning to question him on the baby griffins, when another Muggle stumbled upon their camp. Seeing the unusual creatures, the Muggle returned with a gun to protect himself. Murray tried to save the magical creatures and was killed in the crossfire. Kellerman and Derrick were forced to obliviate the Muggle who shot him, destroyed his gun, and sent him on his way.

But Murray was dead.

A soldier. A caretaker. A hero. A man who fought for four years in a world war, caring for sick and injured animals. A man who continued to care for sick animals after the war. A hero who gave his own life to protect an animal in his care. An animal he didn't even understand the existence of, but one who he was willing to care for, regardless. Michael Murray was a hero.

What happened to Thomas Murray? He was there that day, unbeknownst to the DRCMC agents. When he returned with help, there was no trace of the baby griffins in sight and no trace that his uncle had ever been there. Murray spent his life wondering what had truly happened. But what he did know without absolute certainty, was that his Uncle Mick was a hero.

It was this heroic ideal that made the Department of Mysteries interested in Mick Murray. Agents Kellerman and Derrick had brought his body to the Ministry of Magic, unsure what to do with the deceased Muggle, and Unspeakable Kareem Gazzah decided that he should be studied. Why studied? It seems that heroism is something that is studied by the Department of Mysteries. How does one ideal change the outcome of an individual and how is it that some people are deemed heroes and others cowards? Murray's brain was taken for study and put in the Department of Mysteries where it remained for decades until an attack last June by Voldemort and his supporters resulted in the Brain Room being destroyed.

Michael Murray's brain was finally released and now, this unknown hero can finally be at rest.

Let us honour another fallen hero, Michael Patrick Murray, 4th March 1896-16th April 1932.

Ginny was nervously biting her lip when Harry looked up. "Is it awful?"

"You know it's not awful because Colin published it," Harry told her. "It's brilliant. I love the general question of what makes a hero."

"In my rough draft I mentioned you, but I changed it."

"I appreciate that," he said, linking his fingers with hers. "What did you say? That I was really divine, the hero who conquered the Dark Lord?"

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him. "No, you prat!"

Harry grinned, bringing her fingers to his lips. "What did you say?"

"It didn't really work, but I had this whole paragraph where I was trying to define heroism and how people are heroes without realizing it. I said how Dumbledore duelled Grindelwald and became a hero for that reason. He chose to fight. Then I said how you were merely a child when you were proclaimed a hero as The Boy Who Lived, someone who didn't make that choice yet the crown was passed."

Harry's brow furrowed. "That's incredibly insightful."

She shrugged. "I wasn't sure how to express it so I scrapped it. But Michael Murray was a hero and I think that he should be remembered as such."

"I agree," Harry said. "You really found a lot of detail."

"Writing to Thomas Murray helped."

"How did you even find him?" Harry asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Pure luck, honestly. Professor Birmingham helped me write to the Muggle Ministry of Defence and they looked up his records for me. We found out about Thomas because that's where Murray's family was listed. He wrote to me to tell me that he was there the day his uncle died, but when he went back, there was no trace of him. He always hoped that his uncle had taken off, but he said deep down, he knew that he died that day."

They both looked up when Ron and Hermione slid into chairs at the table across from them. Ron was holding the paper tightly in his hand. Ginny let go of Harry's hand, turning to face her brother.

"Well?"

"Ginny… this was… it was perfect. It was just bloody perfect," Ron said. "It was even better than the draft you showed me the other day."

Ginny's face broke out into a grin. "Yeah?"

Ron nodded. "You got his story out there and you made it personal. He was a hero and he does deserve to be recognized. The way you wrote how he cared for the animals and how he joined because of his friend… how did you even know about Blake? I never knew his last name?"

"Thomas mentioned it in one of his letters. He said how his uncle spoke about him all the time. He always said that they were like brothers."

"You were right," Ron admitted. "Learning about who he was and what he did, I do feel better. It won't stop the dreams, I don't think, but knowing more about the bloke's life makes it feel less… intrusive. He was a hero."

Hermione attempted to brush her bushy curls out of her face as she spoke. "I thought the writing was marvellous! You did really well at explaining the events of how the war started and how Murray would have found himself swept up in it. The bit about the International Confederation of Wizards meeting to discuss it was interesting."

"Oh yeah," Ron said. "Anytime there's a big kerfuffle in the Muggle world, the confederation meets. They need to figure out if they can assist quietly in the background or if we need to go more underground and keep hidden. It's always an issue."

"I find it fascinating," Hermione said. "My first thought is that the magical world should definitely get involved and help, but I guess it makes sense. If Muggles knew magic existed they would want a be all and end all to all of their problems and unfortunately, magic can't fix everything."

Ginny linked her fingers with Harry's. "No, it can't. Life has a way of showing us that."

Ron's eyes met hers. "It's been two days since Theo spoke to Bill. I haven't seen him drinking."

"Me neither," Harry said, looking at his girlfriend. "I did see him sitting and talking with Ciara the other day. He's been doing his homework and… I don't know, he seems to be doing okay."

"He's still not smiling," Ginny told them. "I miss his smile and his laugh. I haven't seen it, not really, not in ages."

Ron nodded. "He will, Ginny. We just have to give him some time. Not drinking is a good start."

Harry brought Ginny's hand to his lips, hoping to reassure her. "It is. One step at a time, right?"

Ginny put her head on Harry's shoulder, eyes on the newspaper before her. Harry kissed the top of her head. Theo would be all right. Harry had never met anyone quite so resilient and thought that no matter what they threw his way, he would overcome it. And in the meantime, they would all be there for him when he needed them. It was all they could do for now.

~ ASC ~

Harry ran his fingers through his hair as he caught his breath, his eyes on his girlfriend as her mouth deliciously kissed his thighs. She turned her head to kiss his balls, her eyes on his; he sighed.

Quidditch practice had been long, but worth it. His team was doing great. The drills were great and he honestly felt like they were doing amazing. If they won the next two games, they would be in the running for the cup. He'd said as much to them as they all hit the showers in a good mood. He'd spent ten minutes talking to Ron about the practice and some of the moves he'd used. Harry felt that Ron was improving in his keeping skills more and more with every practice. Since he'd been dating Hermione, Harry thought that his confidence had even soared a bit more as well. And the more confident Ron was, the better he played.

Harry finally managed to snag a shower just as Cootes and Peakes left the changing room. He'd barely finished getting dressed when he turned to see Ginny standing by the door. The look in her eyes had him moving forward, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her senseless.

That delightful snog had continued in spades as they made their way back up to the castle. By the time they reached the tower room, Harry wanted his hands on her. But he'd been cautious with her over the last two weeks. Ever since she'd had that flashback, he'd been worried that he was pushing her too fast; worried that he was making her relive things that she didn't want to.

Whenever they managed to snag a moment alone, he spent hours doing nothing but kissing her. His hands would roam, knead, and fondle those beautiful breasts of hers, but his mouth stayed firmly on hers or on her neck. Just the other night, they'd spent three solid hours snogging on the sofa in Remus' suite until he'd come in and caught them. He'd given a lecture on them sneaking in there to snog, but Harry could tell he'd been secretly amused.

Then at practice this afternoon, he'd been unable to keep his eyes off of his girlfriend's delightful arse. The way she filled out the sweats she wore made his palms sweat. And he most definitely hadn't been oblivious to the inappropriate hand motions she'd made on her broomstick when she caught him looking at her.

But he still kept just to her lips, not wanting to rush her.

His hand had been getting a more regular workout as of late, but he didn't mind. He needed to touch her, to kiss her, and the last thing he wanted was to scare her. He wanted Ginny to set the pace and he was worried that if he let himself get lost in her, he'd lose control and scare her again.

But Ginny clearly had other ideas.

They'd barely gotten to the tower room before she'd straddled him on the sofa, kissing him passionately. His hands slid up her back into that glorious hair and when her mouth moved down his throat, he only groaned. Now, fifteen minutes later, his jeans were undone and his girlfriend's mouth was wrapped around him.

Merlin, that mouth of hers was just the greatest thing in the world. Sonnets could be written about it. The way she moved her mouth, her tongue, her hands… he lost his train of thought as she sucked the right spot.

"Fuck… yes…"

Ginny slowly sucked on the tip of him before she licked her lips. "Am I driving you mad yet?"

"You always drive me mad," he murmured, his fingers moving to her hair.

She smiled as his fingers played with her hair. Then she opened her mouth and took the tip of him inside again as her thumb fondled his balls. Another finger stroked the underside of his shaft and when she gave his balls a little tug, he groaned.

"Ginny… fuck!"

"Mmm," she said, kissing his length. "I wouldn't want you to get those blue balls my brother was teasing you about."

He merely grunted in response.

Ginny dipped her head again and took him back into her mouth. It was only another minute before he came, gasping incoherently as he did.

Ginny curled up next to him, snuggling into his chest as his breathing slowed. She drew circles over his naked thighs with her fingers. He just watched her, content and quiet for almost five minutes before he kissed the top of her head.

Harry had no idea how he had gotten so lucky. The way Ginny's mouth felt around him, the way she knew exactly what to do with her hands, the way she moved her tongue along him as if she were savouring him in just the right way. She was brilliant at it. He froze, his eyes widening as he looked down at his girlfriend's head.

Ginny was brilliant at it. She was a fucking goddess and the things she did with her tongue were… fuck, he thought, it suddenly all made sense. It was like he had found the missing puzzle piece that was pushed against the wall and behind the sofa. The sly comments, the grins, the constant implication that he should be saying thank you for something, and the bloody talk about a fruit basket…

"You've got to be bloody kidding me!" Harry muttered as he stared down at his girlfriend's head.

"Hmm?" she murmured, kissing his chest, her nails raking up his side.

"I get it now."

"Get what?" Ginny asked, tilting her head back to look up at him.

"The damn fruit basket thing," he exclaimed.

At Ginny's look, he cleared his throat.

"Theo, he keeps telling me that I owe him this damn fruit basket in thanks. He keeps murmuring 'you're welcome' every time you and I get a good snog in and he hasn't said why and… I just bloody got it."

Ginny's lips curved as her eyes twinkled at him. "Have I told you how adorably thick you are?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Forgive me for not immediately thinking that he was talking about how good my girlfriend is at sucking my cock! I knew you said he gave you advice, but I didn't realize that he'd actually given you damn lessons on it!"

Ginny nipped at his bottom lip. "Not lessons exactly, more like… friendly advice, tips, and suggestions. He does always say practice makes perfect."

Harry covered her lips with his. "I don't know what he told you. I don't need to know what he told you, but you're a goddess and I adore you."

Ginny bit her lip, grinning. "He told me many, many things, Mr Potter. Like, this for example…" She slid her hand back between his legs, her open palm rubbing over the head of him. "I'll show you."

Harry groaned as his cock immediately began to respond to the attention. "Fuck!"

Ginny's eyes only twinkled at him as she felt him start to get hard again. "Mmm, almost up for round two, I see."

Harry made a half moan, half panting sound in response and her hands continued to stroke him until she finally knelt back down in front of him.

"He also said to do this."

She used the heel of her hand, running it over the underside of his cock and he bit his lip. When she started to stroke just under the head of him, he tugged her back up into his lap to kiss her.

"I'm going to send him the best damn fruit basket he's ever gotten in his life. Isn't there some fancy store somewhere who makes fruit baskets? I'll find one."

She giggled. "You're not actually going to send him one? Merlin, Harry, he'll never let it go!"

Harry slid his hand over her thigh. "He deserves it. Plus, it would be nice to get him to smile, don't you think?"

Ginny tugged his face towards hers to kiss him deeply. "I love you, Harry."

Harry's brow furrowed as he kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you, too."

Ginny's hand moved back down to fondle him. "Let's put his lessons to good use, then. If you're going to send him a thank you basket, we'll make sure it's well worth it as I'll have you know, he was very, very informative."

Then she was kneeling before him again and her mouth was on him and Harry thought that it was one of the greatest days of his life.

~ ASC ~

One week after his meeting with Bill, Theo was finding himself moving along at a better pace. True to his word, he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol. He stayed away from the blokes he usually sought out and spent his free time doing homework, practicing with his sword, and talking to his friends. He used the sword in Defence Club more than his wand and even Lupin had mentioned how well he worked with it. He still missed Finn, but it wasn't every minute anymore and that made him hurt a little too. But he knew that was part of the healing.

Finn would always be a part of him.

He bought himself a thin gold chain that he put the claddaugh ring on to wear near his heart. He felt like it was the first real step towards living again that he'd taken in months, but it was a step in the right direction. The last thing he expected when he went down to breakfast the day of the Hogsmeade school trip was for four owls to land in front of him carrying a huge package. He carefully untied the top and his jaw dropped open.

Inside was the biggest fruit assortment that he'd ever seen. The basket alone took up four place settings on the Slytherin table. It easily had over five hundred pieces of fruit in it, some dipped in milk chocolate, some in white chocolate, some left alone. Each piece was intricately cut to look like flowers and made into a bouquet on one side. Next to the fruit bouquet was an even larger assortment of fruit placed and sliced to work as bowls with flowers placed around it for decoration. It was enough fruit to last three months at least.

There was a note on the bottom and he grabbed it, his eyes still wide.

Here's your bloody basket. Enjoy it.

PS — Thanks.

Theo's grin widened as his gaze moved towards the Gryffindor table where Harry was eating his breakfast and pointedly not looking at him. Theo thought he was adorable. Theo urged Ciara and her friends to dig in as he offered some fruit to Daphne and Tracy before he moved across the hall and plopped himself right down beside Harry, shoving Neville over a bit.

"You love me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I sent you the fruit basket so that you would stop asking me to send you a damn fruit basket."

"That fruit basket is so over the top. It's the mother of all fruit baskets."

Ginny kissed Harry's cheek. "He figured it out the other day."

Theo beamed. "He just... oh, you are adorable, Mr Potter! I could kiss you!"

"Please don't," Harry advised.

Ginny laughed as Theo grinned. "You must have really done well, chickie. Did you do the thing with your —"

"—Don't finish that sentence!" Harry interrupted, the back of his neck flushing red. "I'm grateful. Let's never talk about it again."

Theo laughed before he kissed Harry noisily on the cheek as Harry attempted to shove him off. "You're welcome!"

He jumped back to his feet and headed back to the Slytherin table to take a closer look at his new fruit basket and for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt light.

~ ASC ~

Ginny watched Theo saunter back to his own table before she turned and kissed Harry softly. "You're a big softie."

"Am not," he muttered, his neck still flushing.

"Are too," she insisted, kissing his cheek.

"That's some fruit basket, Harry," Seamus said, looking over at where the mountain of fruit was sitting in the middle of the Slytherin table. "What did he do to deserve it?"

"Nothing," Harry said, quickly. "It was a joke."

Seamus raised an eyebrow. "What do I have to do to get a basket?"

"Send an owl to Bewitching Baskets and order one," Harry said.

"Spoilsport," Dean said.

Harry turned to his girlfriend. "You still up for Hogsmeade today?

"Definitely," Ginny said. "The weather's beautiful and spring is almost here. I want to go enjoy the day. Besides, there's that store in Hogsmeade that sells baby clothes and I think Aydin, Mina, and Leo need some new outfits for Easter."

"I can't believe that's next week already," Harry told her. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," Ginny said.

"Plus," Harry added, nudging Neville with his elbow. "Someone has a first date today."

Neville stared down into his plate. "What if I'm hopeless at it? What if it's just a pity date?"

"It's not and you won't be," Harry assured him. "Now go out there and show that girl what she's been missing."

When Neville got up to return to Gryffindor Tower to get his things, Harry looked at his girlfriend.

"Do you think he'll be all right?"

"I think Hannah is already a bit smitten with our Neville."

Harry looked over at the blonde sitting at the Hufflepuff table, her eyes following Neville as he left the Great Hall. He thought Ginny might be right and he thought no one deserved it more.

~ ASC ~

Neville watched Hannah walk towards him, still unsure as to how he had convinced her to go out with him today. It had been exactly one week since she'd kissed him in the greenhouse, since he'd kissed her back and asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him. Within that week, they'd said hi in the halls and in classes, but he hadn't spent any time with her since then. He hadn't done anything except worry about this date.

His palms were sweaty as he put them in his jeans, trying not to show how jittery he felt. They said quiet hellos before waiting in the line for Hogsmeade, for Filch to sign them out, and then they walked through the village almost in silence. Neville led her to the Italian restaurant that Harry had told him about. He wanted to make a good first impression. Once they were seated and had ordered drinks, he cleared his throat and asked the question that had been gnawing at him since that day in the greenhouse.

"Hannah, why did you agree to go out with me?"

Hannah looked up from the menu, her eyes startled. "What?"

Neville's fingers whitened on the table as he spoke. "I like you. I mean, I really like you. You're beautiful and sweet and pretty much the nicest person in the world and I—I—I've fancied you for quite a while now, but I know that after Kevin... I don't want this to be a pity date because you think that you owe me something, because you don't owe me anything. I'd step in again if I could and... please stop me from babbling before I make a complete fool of myself."

Hannah's blue eyes met his across the table. "I do see you as a hero, Neville. You stopped him from hurting me in the summer when he'd had too much to drink and yes, you were there when he broke up with me. If you hadn't stepped in that day, I don't know if I would have been brave enough to break up with him. It was you who helped give me that push. But then you were a complete gentleman and you found my friend to comfort me instead of making a move on a vulnerable girl you fancied. That makes you even more of a gentleman in my book. I do feel like I owe you something, but not this."

"Not this," he whispered.

Hannah's hands tentatively covered his. "I like you. You're kind and sweet and patient. I like that you're so passionate about Herbology and I like that you make me smile. You're nice. You have a sweet smile and really nice arms."

Neville chuckled. "Luna did tell me that my work in the greenhouses has helped me there." He let his fingers dance with hers on the table. "I just want you to be happy."

Hannah smiled. "This date makes me happy."

Neville nodded, confidence soaring through him at her words. "Okay, good."

The waitress appeared at that moment to take their order and Neville watched the way that Hannah chewed her bottom lip nervously as if she couldn't decide what she wanted to eat.

"I'll have the chicken parmesan," Neville said, taking the pressure off of Hannah to order first.

"Yes, that sounds good. I'll have the same," Hannah said quickly, passing the menu to the server.

The food was good and Neville asked questions with simple prodding and it wasn't long before he got her talking. He learned that Hannah loved to read romance novels and that she learned how to bake from her grandmother who had passed away when she was thirteen. She had been raised by her mum as her dad was killed in the first war and she didn't have any memories of him. She had an uncle who served on the Hogwarts Board of Governors and who was the identical twin to her father, but he had a falling out with his twin before she was born and she didn't know him, nor what the fight had been about. She loved watching the leaves change colour in the autumn and that her birthday was the nineteenth of April.

"You told me in the summer that you wanted to open a bakery named Serendipity?"

Hannah nodded. "Nana and I used to talk about it. I would make incredible sweets and make them so beautiful people would have to buy them. I told her that I would call it Serendipity because Nana would say that all the time. She claimed that I had a natural affinity for making desirable discoveries by accident when it came to baking."

"Those fairy cakes you sent me were incredible. I mean, not only were they delicious, but they were works of art, Hannah. I can't believe that you made those yourself."

She shrugged. "I like baking. It calms me. It's soothing and it reminds me of all the time I used to spend with my Nana."

"You were close?"

She nodded. "She was my best friend. Her name was Ava Abbott and I adored her. Mum and I have never really seen eye-to-eye and Nana was always there for me when I needed her. We would spend hours baking, making up our own concoctions. She said that I was her good luck charm."

"Another reason for the name Serendipity, then."

Hannah smiled. "It's a stupid dream. Mum says that I should put my use towards something more important like finding a husband and making a home."

"I don't see why you can't do both," he told her. "If that's what you wanted, of course."

"It's a silly dream," she insisted. "I know that. I'm not bright enough to start my own business."

Neville frowned. "I think that you can do anything you put your mind to as long as your heart's in it."

Hannah only smiled at him as they finished eating and asked him how he became interested in Herbology. He told her about how when he went to visit his parents as a child, his mum always wanted to read to him from this gardening book.

"It was old and dog-eared, but she loved it and always wanted to read it to me. I would sit and listen to her and when I got a bit older, I started bringing her flowers and she would find them in the book and… I don't know, I felt like it meant she remembered me in some way."

Hannah touched his hand. "I can't imagine seeing your own parents like that."

He nodded. "As I found flowers for her, I started reading gardening books on my own and my grandmother had a greenhouse where she kept her prized flowers. I worked in there, taking care of them and I don't know… I feel a kinship to the plants. I like working with my hands in the dirt, I like watching them grow and knowing I helped. It soothes me like you said."

"And now you're going to be an Herbologist."

He blushed. "One day, I hope."

After they ate, they walked through the snowy village until they came across the Shrieking Shack. Hannah's gloved hands touched the fence in front of it.

"Do you think it's really haunted?"

"Nah," Neville assured her. "It's been silent for years."

She nodded and Neville moved to stand behind her, putting his hands on her waist and making her jump.

"Sorry," he said, slowly turning her around to look up at him. "You look beautiful."

Hannah's cheeks flushed. "Oh, well, these jeans aren't very nice on me. They make my arse look big, Kevin always said, and —"

"—Kevin's an arse," Neville interrupted her. "Those jeans look incredible on you. They make me want to stare at your arse all bloody day."

She bit her bottom lip. "Oh."

He bent his head slowly, keeping his eyes on hers so as not to scare her before he kissed her. She surrendered under his mouth immediately and he deepened the kiss. Her hands linked around his neck as they snogged. When her tongue met his, he moaned against her. Merlin, she tasted so good. Snogging Luna had been sweet. It had been fun. But kissing Hannah... it felt like what he'd been missing his whole life. Like the pieces were connecting.

When he pulled away, her eyelashes fluttered, her moist lips parted and he bent his forehead against hers.

"I could do that all day."

"What?"

"Kiss you. I could kiss you all day."

Hannah let her hands slide over his shoulders, down his arms to link her hands with his. "You're awfully good at it."

His smile was quick. "Well, I don't have a lot of practice."

Hannah squeezed his hands in hers. "I never would have guessed. I've only ever kissed Kevin before."

"My first kiss was Seamus." At her look, he laughed. "I told my mates that I was worried I'd never get snogged so Seamus just planted one on me out of nowhere and said, 'there, now you've been snogged.' It was very strange."

She giggled. "Was he good?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't know. It was quick and I really couldn't tell. Not to mention I was incredibly surprised."

She giggled again. "He sounds like an interesting friend."

"That he is," Neville assured her. "You should see what he brought into the dorm. He's using it to hold his broom, but it's this giant vase that looks like a penis. He has it by the window. It's ridiculous."

"A what?"

"Exactly what I said," Neville told her, his ears flushing.

What was he thinking? Of all the things to mention on a first date and he brought up the penis vase like a complete git. She was going to think he was mad or mad for sex and that was the last thing he wanted, despite the erection in his jeans telling him otherwise.

"Er, I mean, never mind."

"No," Hannah said, her eyes on his. "Tell me about it."

"It's stupid, I shouldn't have brought it up," he muttered.

Hannah nudged him gently. "But now I'm curious. Where did he get it and why?"

Neville sighed, his face burning. "Dean's mum's an artist and I guess she made it for him for Christmas. The three of them painted it over the holiday. He loves it. Even Dean is a bit put off by it. But it's ridiculous and it fits Seamus well. He has his broomstick sticking out the top of it."

Hannah moved closer to him, smiling when his arm came around her shoulders. "Your friends sound interesting."

"They are. And yours?"

She shrugged. "Some are better than others."

"Tell me more about your mum. You said that it's just the two of you since your Nana passed?"

Hannah nodded. "Yes. And she's a mum. She likes to shop, especially for clothes. Hey, it's getting cold out here. Do you think that we could get a butterbeer?"

Neville kissed her cheek. "Definitely. Shall we head to the Three Broomsticks to warm up?"

Hannah nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Neville took her gloved hand in his with a smile. "Let's go."

But when he looked down at her soft golden hair, he had a feeling that there was something that she wasn't telling him. He wondered just what it was about her mother that made her so nervous. He hadn't missed the way she'd changed the subject twice when her mum came up in conversation. He remembered what Goldstein had told him the afternoon she and Kevin had broken up.

"According to Mandy, her mum is kind of horrible. She puts on a show more than anything, claiming she loves her and claiming she does it for her best interest, but it's usually not."

He had a feeling there was more to Mrs Abbott than her just her not wanting her daughter to open a bakery.

He just didn't know what.

~ ASC ~

Pansy Parkinson Goyle closed her eyes when her father and new stepmother left the house. She sometimes still couldn't comprehend that this had become her life. Her father was boisterous about having a boy and he was thrilled that Pansy herself was pregnant. But it certainly wasn't what she wanted.

What she wished for more than anything was to open her own shop, live her own life, get the opportunity to travel and shop and do all of the things that she'd dreamed of. Instead, she was seventeen, almost three months pregnant, and married. Her eyes found her new husband's where he sat across the room looking over the map her father had brought him.

She was lucky with him. It was something that she never would have admitted to herself a few months ago. But she was damn lucky to have married him.

Gregory Goyle might not be the classically handsome bloke that she imagined she'd end up with, but he was tall with broad shoulders and made of solid muscle. He would be eighteen in September and he'd spent the last two years just building muscle and she had to admit, he looked good. The bulk he'd had when they were young had changed to muscle. He had dark, curly hair, swept to the side, and in the last six months had started growing a beard. He was nice. He was dumber than a post with biceps the size of her head, but he was nice. He treated her with nothing but respect and she liked that he seemed to worship her a little.

Pansy moved across the room to sit next to him, eyes falling on the map that her father had brought over. "What is it?"

Goyle shrugged. "It just seems too simple to me. But you know I sometimes overthink it."

Pansy patted his hand. "You don't think enough more like it. You need to trust your gut more. It might surprise you."

He nodded, his eyes on where her hand was still over his. "Castor said something else when you and Beatrice left the room. He told me not to tell you."

Pansy's eyebrow rose. "What is it?"

Goyle hesitated. "I told him that I wouldn't say anything, but I don't feel right keeping it from you. The Dark Lord wants to put all of the pregnant women into a special place where they'll be safe and cared for; where they can have the babies safely when it's time."

Pansy frowned. "But we moved into this home?"

He nodded, his eyes sparkling down on where her hand still sat on his. "Castor said that because we do have our own house, we might be exempt, but he's not sure of the details yet." He turned his hand over to grip hers. "I want you to stay here with me. I'll keep you safe, Pansy. That's my baby in there, too."

The thought of going somewhere where Voldemort considered them safer made her nervous. Narcissa Malfoy had warned her that she needed to be careful. She had warned her of that when it came to the Dark Lord that he wasn't to be trusted.

"Trust no one. Your life is important and ultimately the life of the child you bring into the world. Promise me that you will remember that, Pansy. It might seem like you're getting a good life, that you and Goyle are going to be safe from all of this. You won't be. I learned that the hard way. Trust no one."

At the time, Pansy had thought that Lady Wiltshire was being a tad dramatic.

But since then, she wasn't so sure.

Ophelia had claimed her husband was so good to her, at first. She told Pansy how he made love to her every night, cherished her. And he had for the first three weeks of their marriage. Then Rabastan Lestrange had let Crouch watch them; let Crouch sodomize her even when she'd begged him to stop. He made his little wife suck his brother's prick while he shagged her and Ophelia told her that she often cried herself to sleep most nights.

Millie was just as bad. She said that Crouch was a sadist, that he got off on hurting them. Millie had told her horror stories of him keeping her and Hestia in chains, raping them over and over again, letting Rabastan have them when he wanted to join in. Millie said that she'd been passed around to multiple Death Eaters to suck cock, to do what they asked. The only rule was that only Crouch could finish inside of her to guarantee he got her pregnant. And he had, along with Hestia as well.

The others had it even worse.

They were raped and beaten if they refused to cooperate and worst of all, was that one month after their weddings, the Dark Lord had called them all forth for a ceremony where they were all given the Dark Mark. Pansy knew that most of them, if not at all, had taken it out of fear and not desire. Now that the women were starting to announce pregnancies, Voldemort was looking to take their new husbands and get them out on missions. She was expected to stay home like a good little wife and give birth. It infuriated her because she could be staying safe and still going to school. It wasn't the studies that she missed. It wasn't like she needed her NEWTs, but she missed the socialization. Writing to Daphne wasn't the same. And other than her husband and her new mother-in-law, she didn't see very many people.

The marriage had been forced upon both of them. Both of their parents pushed for a marriage in hopes of obtaining a new pureblood. Mrs Goyle wanted the prestige of putting herself in with the Parkinson name and Castor wanted his daughter married and breeding, he didn't care with whom. Neither cared what their children wanted. Goyle had pressed Pansy to choose him over someone else, namely Crabbe, and where she had initially wanted to refuse, she knew now that she had been given one of the best choices out of her classmates. She had been in denial the whole time, even when she said the words 'I do.' But then she'd watched the potions get handed out on her wedding day and for the first time, she'd been truly afraid.

She looked over at her husband again. Those light blue eyes of his were staring at her.

"Why have you been so good to me?" she asked.

Goyle looked startled. "What?"

"Why have you been so good to me?" Pansy repeated. "I've been nothing but a shrew to you, yet you've gone out of your way to be kind to me. You dumped out that potion when we got married. I saw you do it before you handed me my wine. You have a house elf bring me breakfast in bed every morning. You do everything that I ask of you without question and you never complain. Now you're telling me that you want me to stay here with you. Why?"

Goyle let out a slow breath, running his hand over his beard. "I hardly think that me not wanting to rape you counts as being kind more as human."

Pansy stared at him. "Greg... it was never rape. We chose to marry each other and we had sex. You dumped the potions out that would have made us, made me… you made it consensual. I chose you."

He shifted uncomfortably. "It was… I have something for you."

Pansy frowned at the abrupt subject change as he got up and hurried out of the room. He came back a moment later with a file and placed it in her lap.

"Look, I know that you didn't want to marry me. I know that you were hoping to marry someone handsome like Draco or Blaise or some wealthy merchant from France, but you got stuck with me. Forced into accepting this marriage for your inheritance and now you're pregnant. I know it's not what you want. I know that I'm not who or what you want. You deserve someone… better. I'm not saying that I agree with the Dark Lord on everything, but his stuff about purebloods dying out is right, and I think us having a baby together is a great way to help stop that from happening. He's right about that. Us taking the Dark Mark maybe wasn't what we planned on, but we did it. The both of us. And I know that we both had other dreams, other aspirations."

Pansy stared at him. "Our parents helped us pick this one. And you're right, I wouldn't have chosen you."

Goyle's eyes looked sad for a moment before he masked it. "I know that. I've fancied you for quite some time and maybe I knew that, maybe I jumped at the chance to have you. But I also think that out of the choices, I'm one of the better ones. I... I try to make you happy. Ever since you told me that you were pregnant, I've never once asked for sex or made any move on you in that way and before that, I never forced myself on you. I always waited for you to… You knew that you had to get pregnant and I didn't want to push you, even knowing that was the goal. I… I sleep in my own bed at night so I don't disturb you. I made sure that you had your own bedroom suite and… I'd like to at least be friends with you."

"We are friends," Pansy said, suddenly feeling incredibly awful for the way that she'd been treating him.

He gestured to the folder that he'd placed on her lap. "It won't happen as soon as you'd like. First of all, you're pregnant so that's going to stop you from jumping in as much as you want. And secondly, with the Dark Lord's plans, it won't be something that you can do right away, but I thought that you could at least get started."

She frowned and opened the folder. Inside were photos of an old abandoned bank.

"It's not much," Goyle began. "It needs a lot of work, but the bones are there. The building is three hundred years old and I bought it cheap off an old warlock who was looking to sell. I promised you that I'd help you do it and… I thought that you could make this area here, the showroom, see how it has those arch things and all the marble and the high ceilings? I thought it seemed fancy and that's what you want, right? Something fancy?"

Pansy swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "For my shop?"

He nodded. "With Father's death and our marriage, I have everything, Pansy. Not to mention the generous dowry your father gave me when I married you. Mum only holds her small allowance so, I can do what I like with the other funds. The building was fairly cheap and I figured that we could fix up the second and third floors and maybe rent them out as flats. It's in Apricity Lane, by the way. I know that you would have preferred London, but Manchester is a big city too, and Apricity Lane has all of those high end shops and things. The old bank is on the corner between that Italian shoe shop and The Poison Brew. It's been abandoned for years."

"Greg," Pansy said, softly. "Thank you."

He shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I want you to be happy. I put the dowry into an account for you so you can use it for your shop. I never planned on taking that money for myself, Pansy. When this is all over, and the baby comes and whatever happens, if you want to divorce me, I will. I won't hold you to this. I won't… make you stay with me. I just want to be there for the baby. If you want to find a lover, someone you know who's not so stupid, I'd understand. I just want you to be happy."

Pansy knelt in front of him, startling him.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer. Instead she opened his robes and undid his trousers, her hand slipping into his boxers to stroke him. His eyes crossed. Then when she exposed him, she bent her head, and began to use her mouth. When he finished with a mighty roar a few minutes later, he stared at her in wonder. She stood up, bending over him to kiss his lips.

"You are far better than I deserve, Gregory Goyle. I love it. The building is perfect and I can't wait to get started. I need to get Daphne's help as well. And Greg? We're more than just friends and I'm grateful to you."

Then she scooped up the file and hurried from the room, leaving her husband with his trousers open, and staring after her in wonder.

---

End Author's Notes:

Hope the Pansy/Goyle was a bit of a surprise!

As to the Michael Murray article — Murray, Powell, and Nasser were all made up people by me. The roles they played in the war and their names are fictional, but the details about the First World War, the battles, the urine-soaked handkerchiefs, the AVC, and Murray's unit moving from Belgium to Greece to Macedonia, etc. as well as staying on as peacekeepers — that is all fact. Just my history nerd coming out. World War One is my specialty, especially Canadian history of World War One.

Thanks for reading and please review!