Chapter 7: Service and Sacrifice

Harry's heart pounded in his throat as he tore his room apart yet again. This was about the fifth time he had, the second time of which Pansy didn't bother to right things behind him.

"You're sure you haven't seen it?" Harry asked her.

"No." For how many times Harry had asked Pansy, she showed a tremendous amount of patience. "I hate to say it, but I don't think it's here. When's the last time you had it?"

The last time Harry recalled having his wand was when he'd killed Voldemort. He couldn't remember having it at Malfoy Manor, although maybe it got lost there in all the chaos with Malfoy? If Harry had left it at the Auror office, he liked to think that Kingsley would have let him know.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied. He'd worked himself up to a sweat looking for his wand. His face felt flush, his nose slightly damp from sweat. "I don't think I've even used it since last Friday."

Pansy nodded slowly, lips pressed. "Maybe you need to report it lost. Or you could ask Kingsley. He'll be at the meeting, right?"

Low-key panic made Harry sweat for a whole new reason. "He's going to think I'm an idiot. If I lost it, I lost it a week ago. And I didn't say anything? I am an idiot."

"Don't get too down on yourself for something like that." Pansy joined Harry where he stood with his hands on his hips. "The last week has been an absolute blur. Nobody can blame you for not using magic."

"Still." Harry sighed. "He told me when I first started in the office that it was on me to report anything in the field as soon as I can. I didn't even make an official report about Voldemort."

"Harry," Pansy said sternly. "Stop worrying. Talk to Kingsley later. He's pretty laidback, isn't he?"

"Personally, not professionally. He won't yell at me, but he might still be annoyed."

"I'm sure he'll understand. Plus, it's not like Bergen was some obscure little job, was it?"

Harry still felt a little stupid that he hadn't noticed something as crucial as his wand going missing. He tried to think of any time that he'd used magic this week, but he simply hadn't. He'd have to ask Dumbledore about looking in on Malfoy Manor and seeing if the house elves had picked it up.

Giving up for now that his wand was anywhere in Grimmauld Place, Harry led Pansy downstairs to the fireplace. Dumbledore hadn't explained why the Order meeting they attended today was moved to Ramstad Manor, but Harry could wager a pretty educated guess. Harry didn't blame Malfoy one bit for collectively booting them out of his family's estate.

The high ceilings at Ramstad Manor created echoes as everyone chatted. Even with twenty-odd people in the room, it didn't feel very full at all. Harry looked around for where he and Pansy might insert themselves. Ron, Fred, and George were there, but Harry wasn't too sure about forcing his company on Hermione. She still hadn't talked to him since Saturday.

Kingsley had already arrived. He chatted with Mr. Weasley along with Gawain Robards, the senior-most Auror left in the Order below Kingsley now that Fulton and Shipley were gone. Nerves fluttered doubly to life in Harry's stomach when he made eye contact with Tonks. He was less than relieved to be waved over to where Tonks stood with her mum.

"Hey," Harry hesitantly greeted them. "All right?"

Both shrugged, Andromeda sighing. "Okay, I suppose."

Harry tried to think of a polite way to ask why Andromeda was there when she hadn't ever attended an Order meeting before. "I know it's probably far from my place to ask, but have you been able to talk to Malfoy at all?"

"No," Andromeda quietly replied. "Only Dumbledore is allowed to visit him since he's representing Draco in front of the Wizengamot. After his trial. . .I mean, I maybe could then, but I would rather it not come to that."

"The Wizengamot?"

Andromeda nodded. She rubbed an eye, looking suddenly tired. "Scrimgeour moved it, apparently."

Any potential sliver of a good mood that had remained from Harry's frantic search for his wand dissipated. Focusing on that, Harry had pretty much forgotten his nerves for facing everyone here. He hadn't expected to see Andromeda either. It had to be extra slaps to the face for her sisters to have been so involved in all this. Mrs. Malfoy was supposed to be safe.

"Look," Harry said with a glance at Tonks as well. "I'm really sorry about how things went up there. I hope you know I didn't mean for it to happen like that. Any of it."

"Dora said you were the one that sent Draco to Azkaban."

Harry swallowed, mouth dry. Before he could address it, Tonks sighed with a hint of impatience. "Mum, you weren't there. None of us knew any better. If you want to blame anything, blame the process that puts anyone suspected of Death Eater activity in Azkaban until things can be—"

"I know." Andromeda put a hand up to Tonks, and Harry got the uncomfortable feeling that this conversation had already happened about a hundred times in the last week. Tonks pursed her lips, cheeks pink, before Andromeda looked back at Harry. "Nice seeing you."

She headed off, leaving Harry with the distinct feeling that he possessed every single physical property of dragon dung.

"Sorry." Tonks folded her arms and sighed as she watched her mum join a conversation with Mrs. Weasley and Fleur. "She's not taking everything very well."

"I really don't blame her," Harry said. "You're not—? Well, he's your cousin, and all. And then Dagmar. . ."

"I didn't see them as much as Mum and Dad did," Tonks said. "I was in the office when you came back from Bergen too. If she saw how fucked up you were, I think she would be a bit more understanding. I'm trying to take a step back from it all. It's not fair to you that it all get heaped on. Nobody else in the office gets treated like that. Think about how much trouble Kingsley would be in. This last year, over ten Aurors have died. But it's our line of work. We all signed up for it. Our friends and family don't get a pass if they come up against the law."

"Yeah," Harry vacantly replied. "So what's up with the Wizengamot, then? Why did Scrimgeour change it?"

"It came down the pipes late on Wednesday after his press release about You-Know-Who." Tonks studied him, one eye narrowed. They were purple today to match the light violet tint to her blonde hair. "Before you ask, it was in the works before that. I heard mention that Scrimgeour had filed it Tuesday."

There was some relief in that for Harry. That meant it wasn't explicitly his fault Scrimgeour had gotten himself involved with Malfoy's trial. However, Scrimgeour had still shown his hand at the meeting after Wednesday's ceremony. He was not impartial in the question of Malfoy's future.

"Man, that sucks," was all Harry could think to say. "What do you think's going to happen?"

"Not sure, but Scrimgeour is still only one man." Tonks tucked some hair behind her ear. "Dumbledore's seat will be empty for the final vote, so there's that. But going before the Wizengamot puts Kingsley and Gawain up there. I'm not sure who'll fill in Copeland and Wallace's seats, but I'm sure Scrimgeour will have new nominees by then. . ."

A headache pushed in on Harry. "So he's trying to stack the court, you think?"

"Mhm." Tonks' eyebrows jumped. "What a joke of a justice system, huh?"

"Yeah." Harry started to feel nervous about it again after taking a couple days' reprieve from feeling anything at all. "That's not right. Does Dumbledore have a plan?"

"If he does, I hope we hear about it today." Tonks sighed, looking remarkably like her mum when her brow settled into a wrinkle. "Poor Draco. Nobody should be a scapegoat when it comes to things like this. I don't know what Scrimgeour has against him, if it's personal or what. He's really not a bad kid."

"No."

A general sinking feeling overtook Harry as Tonks moved along to catch up to Andromeda. Pansy slipped her fingers into his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered at him.

"It's what I get for being an idiot," Harry replied. "I just wish it didn't hurt so many people."

As Harry looked around the room again, he took a mental tally of how many people he'd affected in some way by this. He couldn't talk to Hermione, and her eyes were shiny as she tried to hold back on grief from losing a good friend. Andromeda looked irritated with Tonks. Just in general, the room seemed to regard Harry as a separate entity. He hadn't meant to turn on two of their own.

Harry was actually relieved to wind up talking to Kingsley and Gawain.

"All right?" Kingsley asked him.

"Meh." Harry shrugged.

"Saw you talking to Andromeda," Kingsley replied with a glance in her direction. Hermione had gravitated over to Andromeda and Mrs. Weasley, leaving Viktor with Ron, Fred, and George. "Tonks said she's pretty upset."

"Yeah."

"I had a feeling this might happen," Kingsley said. "Not specifically how things went, but that the blame would either fall on you or on our office as a whole once the losses were laid out."

"Yeah, well. . ." Harry shrugged again.

"If it makes you feel any better, it's not on your word Draco is in Azkaban right now," Kingsley placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He got stuck in the system put into place that sent people like Bellatrix Lestrange directly to Azkaban. His trial would all be a formality at this point if Scrimgeour was looking at it fairly. Don't beat yourself up too badly about it. Sometimes you have to look around the room and take note of who's all still here. If things didn't go like they did, who else would be missing?"

The silence from Parasca on how to handle this was suddenly incredibly loud. Harry nodded anyway, despite how it didn't feel right to hear this from Kingsley instead. Like Parasca had said, there was no changing anything. All Harry could do was look ahead at the current challenges he faced. He needed to try and focus on the living.

"Hard to say," Harry replied. "Erm, before I forget, I needed to talk to you about something. I can't find my wand. Did it turn up anywhere? Malfoy Manor, Malfoy and Dagmar's, maybe the Ministry?"

"Your wand?" Kingsley furrowed his brow. "It's been gone for a week?"

"I'm not totally sure, but I think so." Harry hoped that having Pansy here beside him would spare him a tongue-lashing. "I can't remember using it at all after we were in Bergen. I tried finding it at my house, but it's not there. Kreacher said he didn't put it away or anything like that, either."

"I can take a look, but I think the only wand I have from last Friday is Draco's. Most the Aurors were buried with theirs. The others were left to family. Dagmar's aunt Agneta took hers. . ." Kingsley paused, thinking. "I'll ask Arvid, the Norwegian Head Auror. Maybe his office found it when they were securing the cottage."

"Okay." Harry paused. "Sorry, I don't mean to create even more work for you."

Kingsley dismissed that with a wave of his hand.

Thankfully, it was too close to the top of the hour for Harry to struggle through anymore conversations. He touched base with Ron and the twins, and felt more secure seated between Ron and Pansy in the drawing room. Harry was also quite content to sit toward the opposite end of the table from Dumbledore, where he might be able to disappear beyond everyone's peripheral vision. The room was already silent when Dumbledore stood up.

"Good evening," he greeted them all. "I'll start this meeting off by recounting everything that Draco told me yesterday about how Voldemort came to be at his house. I apologize in advance, for I must briefly go back in time for context. I may repeat things you already know.

"You may all recall that Voldemort was injured. Bellatrix confirmed to Draco and Dagmar that this was so, and that it was the result of Dagmar hitting him with a Heafonfýr Curse on August thirty-first, summer before last. Until Hildegard was incarcerated in March, she was treating Voldemort's injuries. He began to decline again afterward. The evening of March nineteenth was also the night that Narcissa Malfoy was picked up by Bellatrix on her way to Andromeda's."

Harry glanced at Andromeda when he spotted some movement at her part of the table. Tonks had put a hand on her shoulder.

"The three of them fell back to Fantomøy," Dumbledore continued. "Voldemort placed Narcissa under a Fidelius Charm, making Bellatrix her Secret Keeper. While Voldemort and Bellatrix continued searching for Magnus Norheim, they left Narcissa under the supervision of Wesley Nott.

"Draco wasn't exactly sure when, but it was Peter Pettigrew who found Magnus in the Paris Catacombs. When asked about the locket they were seeking, Magnus did not have it. He'd also had his memory modified so that he would not remember its location. Voldemort asked Narcissa where Dagmar was because he thought that someone who looked similar to Hildegard might jog something.

"Narcissa's guess that Dagmar was at St. Mungo's led Bellatrix to Olaf Kyrre in Bergen. Bellatrix used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate someone in Dagmar's fertility clinic. A couple days later, Dagmar went home as usual from work. She remembered going upstairs at her house and then suddenly waking up ill in bed. She was still in her uniform and had lost four or five hours of time. She attributed it to stress. We now know that this is when Bellatrix took her to Paris. Her memory had indeed been modified.

"I spoke to Draco and Dagmar a few days later, after Norheim's death was discovered. They were hesitant about using a Fidelius Charm to protect their house in the event Voldemort for some reason went there. They didn't want their coworkers or family to be in danger of being used to reach them. Draco and Dagmar told me that in the event anyone showed up, they would go along with it.

"And then, of course, they showed up." Harry couldn't hear Dumbledore sigh from this far away, but he saw his shoulders slowly rise before falling. "Dagmar got home first. Bellatrix had her treat Voldemort like Hildegard had been before. His condition had deteriorated. Since Magnus couldn't remember where the locket went, it was not recovered. They planned on continuing their search once Voldemort was well enough.

"Bellatrix warned Dagmar against trying anything funny while treating Voldemort. She told her that when Hildegard was constructing the phylactery, Voldemort didn't completely trust her. He asked for collateral of equal value to his soul, and Dagmar ended up in that position. If Voldemort died, then Dagmar would too. When Draco came home and learned that Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Peter were there, his first instinct was to inform us. However, the connection between Voldemort and Dagmar complicated the matter. They resolved to wait until Voldemort moved on before reaching out.

"Narcissa was there for the week leading up to last Friday as a reward for all of them cooperating," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort improved enough that Dagmar had estimated one more week of treatment would do it. They'd organized for Narcissa to stay with them and had told Voldemort that in future, should he need further treatment, their home was open to him. It would give us the opportunity to get close to Voldemort when the right time came. They unfortunately were not aware that someone might have witnessed Dagmar in the Catacombs, which created a situation they could not anticipate.

"So that's what we have to work with," Dumbledore concluded before resuming his seat. "There are a few other things to derive from the minor details of Draco's account. First of all, that Bellatrix inferred Voldemort didn't die in 1981 because he took the Killing Curse indirectly. She told Dagmar she was lucky for that. If Bellatrix can be trusted that Voldemort and Dagmar were connected—and we have direct witnesses in both Kingsley and Draco that Harry's Killing Curse hit Dagmar as well—then Voldemort is indeed dead."

The feeling in the drawing room for Dumbledore to confirm Scrimgeour's Wednesday announcement was a strange one. Some people sighed heavily as if a massive burden had come off their shoulders, but there were still people like Hermione and Andromeda that couldn't partake in that happiness. Harry was careful not to meet any of the gazes that came his way, nor did he react when Fred reached around Ron to push his shoulder.

"Another hanging question is Dagmar's missing body." Dumbledore reeled the mood in again. "Why Bellatrix, Peter, and their cohorts took Voldemort's body is self-explanatory, in my opinion. As for Dagmar, I'd hoped there wasn't some nefarious purpose. Draco may be right that it was Narcissa's wish not to leave her there."

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, her hand raised. "Do you think it'll be recovered?"

"If we can locate Fantomøy, perhaps," Dumbledore replied. "She may have already received a proper burial. I doubt that Narcissa would allow her remains to be handled with less than dignity."

"You think Fantomøy is where Bellatrix and the rest of her ilk would've gone, then?" McGonagall asked.

"Most likely. We've never been able to locate it despite our best efforts, after all. It's well hidden."

Kingsley cleared his throat. "The Norwegian Ministry is retracing our steps. If it's hidden under a Fidelius Charm, then the best chance we're going to get to find it is when Bellatrix or anyone else currently there has to leave for whatever reason. Fantomøy is self-sustainable. We can derive that from Harry's interviews with Hildegard and Marit. It never sounded like Hildegard had to leave to keep herself fed or cared for in all the years—the centuries—she lived there."

"So it's essentially a waiting game," Mr. Weasley spoke up. "With no real guarantee."

"Unfortunately," Kingsley replied. "We at least have a solid partnership with the Norwegian Ministry. They were collectively mortified that Voldemort had been hiding there somewhere. They've gone as far back as to interview residents of Trondheim to find every possible morsel of legend about Fantomøy as they can. It sounds as though Magnus was the last person to come across it, but we expected that. That's when Hildegard joined the wizarding world. She likely hid it the way anyone secures their home when they leave."

Harry nodded mindlessly along with everyone else.

"For now, our primary focus is on what can be helped," Dumbledore said. "That being getting Draco out of Azkaban. For those here who don't work at the Ministry, perhaps you've heard the rumours that Rufus intends to make an example of Draco in a post-Voldemort world. Because he can't get his hands on any actual Death Eaters, he wants to appear efficient. Earlier this week, he filed to move Draco's trial from in front of the Council of Magical Law to the Wizengamot."

"That doesn't make it an open and shut case, does it?" Andromeda asked, her voice on the quiet side.

"No, but it certainly tips things away from our favour." Dumbledore rubbed his hands idly together where he folded them on the table. "I won't be able to cast a not-guilty vote since I'm representing Draco. Ten of the other forty-nine seats—minus Rufus—are his landed nominations. Two more likely will be, before the trial.

"I'm still hopeful. These are sensible people. I also find it telling that Rufus attempted to recruit Harry as a character witness against Draco—" Harry's stomach tossed when everyone looked at him, "—but he didn't even get far enough to ask before being soundly rejected."

"So he's not confident that Draco's actions alone will be enough to put him in Azkaban?" Andromeda spoke again with a fleeting glance toward Harry. "He needs someone to convince the Wizengamot?"

"He seems to think so." For a very brief second, Dumbledore smiled toward Harry. "Rufus has always wanted Harry to vouch for him in some way, ever since he became Minister. He approached Harry over the Christmas holidays after his election to request that Harry speak publicly about how confident he was of the Ministry without Cornelius. It was no secret that Harry and Cornelius never saw eye-to-eye. It was also no secret that Harry and Draco shared a lot of animosity through the first six years of knowing each other. It doesn't help that Rufus is still embarrassed to have never realized Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, despite the evidence. He's said to me unsolicited on more than one occasion he was simply trying to get insider information, but I don't believe him."

Harry didn't either. Mr. Malfoy wasn't exactly hard to miss, but his gold and politesse had blinded Scrimgeour just as much as Fudge.

"The date for Draco's trial still isn't set in stone," Dumbledore continued. "I'll reach out privately to the individuals who I believe would best give the Wizengamot a fair view of Draco. I would request volunteers, but I don't want to obscure the facts of his trial with too many character witnesses. That said, if anyone has resources that may be of help, they should not hesitate to come forward."

Although the meeting covered a lot of information, it was relatively short. Harry was grateful for that, for it was a lot to absorb. He was looking forward to possibly resting his eyes after eating dinner. As he stood to leave, Dumbledore spoke his name and gestured him over.

Pansy touched Harry's lower back to get his attention. "Do you want me to wait, or. . .?"

"Erm. . ."

"Could take a bit," George said. He, Fred, and Ron similarly lingered. "We could all go on ahead to the Burrow?"

"Sure," Harry agreed since Pansy didn't look uncomfortable with it. "I'll catch up."

Standing by the exit, Harry had to wait for a bunch of other people to leave before he could join Dumbledore at the head of the table. He grew suddenly interested in his fingernails, although smiled tightly at the few people that said hi to him. He wasn't sure how to feel when the only other person that was left besides Dumbledore was Hermione. She acknowledged Harry, which he supposed was a start. She pressed her lips together in the way they went when a smile was too stubborn to emerge.

"Take a seat," Dumbledore invited them when they were the only three left. Kingsley had closed the drawing room door on his way out. "As far as finding character witnesses for Draco, you two are where I'd like to start."

"Okay," Hermione said.

"The problem with relying on Draco's account of events in front of the Wizengamot is that a lot of it isn't corroborant," Dumbledore said. "I can't put forth concrete proof, for instance, that Draco and Dagmar intended to go along with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I was alone with them both times we discussed it. We also don't have Narcissa to vouch for him as a witness, but putting Draco's mother on the stand would be counter-productive anyway."

"So what's your strategy, then?" Hermione asked.

"Make it apparent that going along was the more likely path for Draco to have chosen." Dumbledore stood and went over to one of the shelves, where a box sat. He brought it back to the table and opened it. "I received some things from Gunvor, the warden at Jotunheimen. She gave me Draco's personal effects from his locker. I have the letter from his mother that the house elves gave him on the Easter holidays, as well as the messenger he shared with you, Harry. Kingsley already did me the courtesy of opening it."

Some of its pages were crinkled up. They hadn't really gone back and forth a lot, preferring to have any big discussions in-person. Harry hoped that wouldn't hurt Malfoy.

"So we have concrete proof that he was indeed a member of the Order," Dumbledore said. "Narcissa's letter goes in about how she knew Draco was drifting away from Voldemort's ideology. The problem with the letter is that I can see the argument Rufus would make. Narcissa disappeared the night Lucius was arrested. If she's with Bellatrix now, it could be said she left that letter as a means to protect Draco from scrutiny. It could have even been planted as a means for Draco to infiltrate us."

Harry grew very uncomfortable as he thought of all the times he'd suspected the exact same thing. He couldn't bring himself to look over at Hermione, who he'd expressed these very concerns to.

"That's where you two come in." Dumbledore resumed his seat. "Perhaps out of everyone in Hogwarts that Draco ever targeted, he lashed out worst at you. You know how bad his behaviour and views were until he was sixteen or so. You also had unique viewpoints in how he moved beyond that. Hermione, as Head Girl, you oversaw him as a prefect. You, Harry, spied on him on the Order's behalf for his entire seventh year. Will you vouch for him?"

"Yeah," Harry said, while Hermione nodded.

"Good." Dumbledore's tone softened, as well as his expression. "I'll be in further touch about that. For now, I want you two just to think hard on everything you remember of Draco since you first met him. Don't whitewash his behaviour when he was younger. Certainly don't try to excuse it. Not only would it be taking a liberty with the truth in the highest court, it would downplay his growth into a respectable young man."

"Right," Hermione quietly replied.

"That's all I had to say to you, Hermione." Dumbledore smiled at her before shifting his attention to Harry. "One more thing, with you."

"See you later then," Hermione told him before getting up to leave. Dumbledore watched her head for the exit, while Harry just listened to the echoing click of her shoes across the marble floor. The door drummed closed behind her.

"It wasn't just Rufus' intent to recruit you as a character witness that he invited you to that meeting on Wednesday." Dumbledore reached into his box again. Harry's stomach flipped with irritation when Dumbledore brought out a black box. "He didn't think it appropriate to present you with this at the ceremony."

"I'm not taking that," Harry said.

"Whether you do or not, you're still a recipient."

"I don't care. I'm not taking it."

"What would you have me do with it, then?"

"Throw it in the bin."

"All right."

Harry couldn't tell if Dumbledore took the piss, or if he would seriously do it. "That was it?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Watch for my owl so that we can prepare for Draco's trial. It'll be sooner than later, possibly even this weekend. I don't trust Rufus not to do with Draco like Cornelius did when those dementors attacked you. At least he seems to be playing by the book as far as refiling which court will see the case."

"Okay."

With that, Harry left. He was annoyed all over again with Scrimgeour. Those feelings tapered off before they really had a chance to take root when Harry came out to the great room. Hermione was still sitting on one of the couches.

Harry slipped his hands into his jean pockets. "Er, hey."

"Hi."

She didn't seem angry, which was a good sign. "Waiting for Dumbledore, or. . .?"

Hermione's mouth worked. She looked so tired, and Harry noticed she was wearing her work robes. He couldn't imagine going in after everything that had happened last weekend.

"No." She lacked power behind her voice. "Thought I'd. . .you know, check in on you. See that you've been okay."

Harry shrugged. With a little hesitation, he sat down next to her.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, sniffling. "I don't mean to make you feel like I blame you or anything. It's just hard."

"I know." Harry paused. "You know I didn't mean to, right? We were there to help them. I didn't even want to go. It didn't feel right, in my gut."

"Yeah." Hermione rubbed an eye. "I do. Just. . ."

"Try being the one that has to live with that," Harry told her, his annoyance emerging again. "I don't think of it like 'oh well', Hermione. Yeah, I killed Voldemort. But I killed Dagmar too. It's not just my fault she's dead. I killed her."

He'd avoided talking about it in such certain terms with Pansy or Ron. Harry had killed somebody. He himself had personally created that hole in the world.

"I liked her too," Harry said. "She grew on me, and she was really kind. I wouldn't have done anything if I knew what was going to happen. I wish I could go back and do it over. Nothing about this feels right."

Hermione's breath grew more uneven, and Harry regretted looking at her. Her eyes grew wet to the point they'd finally overrun. While Harry had walked around Islington in the first lonely days after this all happened, he'd thought extensively what kind of a mess he would've left behind if he hadn't bothered to strike. Would it be Dagmar sitting here instead, apologizing to Hermione for something she couldn't help anymore than Harry could? Or would Dagmar and Malfoy both be in Azkaban for bringing about his death? They would have a hell of a time making a case for innocence after proving to be such assets to Voldemort.

Or—Harry thought with a twist to his stomach—would the combined forces of Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Mrs. Malfoy have convinced Dagmar and Malfoy that they had no choice? Go with them, or stay behind and be treated with impunity the exact same way Malfoy was now. That option almost made Harry sick. He didn't want to think like that about someone who had died a very untimely death, and another who he was trying to save from a wasted life. What if Malfoy came out of Azkaban scorned, after all? Harry, the Order, and the Ministry had failed him. It was a good thing Voldemort was gone. While Malfoy had managed to deprogram himself from that ideology, Harry could easily see him slipping back into it after this. He might anyway, even without someone to act on behalf of.

"No, it doesn't," Hermione agreed with what Harry had said. "I'm sorry. I'm trying really hard to see that I can still mourn her while being there for you. I promised you I would be, right to the end. I don't mean to be a bad friend."

"You're not," Harry replied. "I get it. I'd take some time away from me too, if I could. I don't know how I'm going to make this right."

"I don't know either."

It felt a little hopeless to Harry, then. If Hermione couldn't—and Dumbledore certainly wasn't offering up any solutions—then Harry was going to be stuck forever taking it one day at a time. It came in fits. Sometimes it consumed him, and then he'd break and feel normal for a little while before it came back.

"I probably just won't get over it, then. Not like I have the right." Harry stood up. "Since we weren't talking, I took for granted Sunday dinner was off. Is that still the case?"

Hermione hummed as she thought. She looked even more tired. "I wouldn't have the energy to cook or anything. We could get together if you and Ron wouldn't mind picking up some takeaway."

"Okay." Harry didn't want to push her anymore than that. "See you Sunday, then?"

"Yeah—just a second."

She got off the couch, and Harry briefly lost the ability to breathe from how tightly she hugged him. He returned it, grateful.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "And I'm sorry for everything you have to deal with now."

Harry nodded stiffly, uncomfortable with a fresh tightening of his throat. "Thanks."

"Let's get Malfoy out of prison. Then we'll go from there."

"Yeah."