Chapter 31

Harry requested a simple dinner as he sat down at the kitchen table, and Violet made him a nice piece of fried fish, some mashed potatoes and some green beans. For afters she served him a slice of cake topped with strawberry jam and whipped cream. It was delicious and Harry sat back in his chair after he finished it all, releasing a satisfied moan.

"Watch wolves, watch wolves," V cawed from his spot on the table. His black beak still had spots of whipped cream on it since V had enthusiastically helped Harry finish his dessert.

Harry sipped his second glass of wine. "You want to go watch the wolves? Is that even safe?"

"Fly, fly." V flapped his wings for emphasis.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Okay, yeah, that could work. I need to drop the new copy of the constitution off at Black Manor anyway."

And so after half an hour, when his dinner had settled a little, Harry pulled on an old, wool cloak since his fur one was currently in the making, and got on his broomstick. He took his time flying to Black Manor while he admired the paved road the elves had built that day. The moon was full so Harry had plenty of light to see by.

Regulus opened the door for him, giving him a questioning look while waving Harry inside.

"Are you moving?" Harry asked as he looked around the entrance hall which was filled with boxes and bags.

Regulus chuckled and shook his head. "No, I'm merely sorting through all the clothes the Black family as accumulated over the years. Sirius and I have no use for it, and Melissa Greengrass, the tailor, asked me for any spare clothes since she's starting a clothing bank."

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A clothing bank. It's simply a name for a place that distributes second-hand clothing to those who need it for free," Regulus explained with a shrug. "I hadn't heard of it either, but I'm happy to help. We certainly have no need for any of these clothes, and the children that have moved to the island have nothing to wear."

"I might dig through my own closet," Harry said with a thoughtful frown. "I've gathered a fair amount of clothing as well over the years that I don't use."

"I'm sure Melissa will be happy to take those off your hands." Regulus shoved a couple of bags to the side. "I've sent a note to cousin Cissy as well, since I'm sure she's got plenty of old clothing to spare, from many generations of Malfoys."

"What I actually came for is this," Harry said now that his curiosity was satisfied. He pulled the scroll from the pocket in his cloak and handed it to Regulus. "This is a draft for a constitution. Voldemort came up with that idea, and I think it's smart to put something like this in place."

"To protect our right to use all magic," Regulus guessed with a knowing little smile. "That woman certainly seemed vehement to create an uprising against the use of dark magic."

"I won't let that happen," Harry said with conviction. He hadn't created a whole new country to get away from Britain's restrictive laws only for someone else to shit all over his new island. "And a constitution is a legal way to ensure no one will ever change our core principles. I'd like to have your opinion on it, and Sirius and Remus' too, of course."

Regulus nodded while he opened the scroll and gave it a quick onceover. "I'll let you know what we think sometime tomorrow. Sirius is currently keeping Remus company, as though there aren't another hundred werewolves roaming the land tonight for him to socialize with."

Harry released a burst of laughter and then fondly shook his head. "Then I'll be on the lookout for the only dog amidst the wolves." Harry held up his broom to show Regulus what he was planning and Regulus merely looked resigned.

"Only you would go for a nice, evening flight during a full moon with werewolves running free everywhere." Regulus gave an exaggerated shudder. "I'll be staying safely inside if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Good luck with sorting your wardrobe." And with that, Harry slipped out the door and mounted his broom, V flying ahead of him while cawing in excitement. It didn't take them very long to see the first wolves running across the dark meadows to the west of Spellbridge, chasing each other through the long grass. Harry also saw some panicked sheep fleeing in terror but so far the wolves left the livestock alone from what Harry saw.

It was actually rather easy to spot Sirius and Remus. Not because of them, since Remus' grey coat and Sirius' black fur didn't stand out in the darkness whatsoever, but because James was floating beside them, shimmering brightly, like a lone lighthouse in a dark storm.

"Harry!" James came floating up at once when he spotted his son while below him Remus and Sirius were chasing each other in their canine forms. "What a sight, right?"

"It's certainly impressive, to see so many werewolves," Harry agreed as he hovered his broom and sat back, taking on a more relaxed pose. V quickly landed on the handle of the broom and cawed a greeting at James. "I've never seen werewolves before, since we didn't have them in Santika."

James nodded in understanding and then released a wistful sigh. "This is the first time in a very long time that I truly regret not having a living body." James gestured at the frolicking wolf and dog below them. "I miss running with those two, moving on four legs, smelling the night air."

Harry pursed his lips for a moment before giving his dad a thoughtful glance. "I could always stick you in a reanimated body if you really wanted to be alive again."

"As in a fresh corpse?" James asked, sounding more than a little dubiously.

"Yeah, someone who died recently. I could reanimate the body and stick your soul in it, like what I did with Rigel and the dragon body," Harry explained. He wasn't sure how he felt about having his parents alive again, since he'd only known them as souls he could summon, but if it was something his father truly wanted, Harry would do it.

"But I wouldn't be me," James mused. "I would be using someone else's body."

Harry shrugged and released a deep sigh. "Your soul would be the same, but you would be limited by the new body, that's true. You might not be able to become an Animagus again, if the body isn't suited for that kind of magic. Or you might not be as smart as you used to be, depending on the capacity of your new brain."

"Yeah," James said with a slow nod. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Just let me know if you ever want something like that," Harry said, trying to keep his tone light. He didn't want his father to think Harry expected something like that from him.

"Harry, could you summon your mum? I think she'd enjoy seeing this spectacle as well."

"Sure." Harry rubbed his thumb across his amulet and in second Lily floated beside them.

"Hi, Harry, James." Lily looked around in surprise. "Oh, are those all the werewolves running free?"

And Harry spent another hour or two chatting with his parents while they slowly flew around the island, admiring the sight of almost a hundred werewolves running wild on the night of the full moon. Harry fell into bed tired and satisfied that night and woke up refreshed once more. He had a quick breakfast of oatmeal with some baked apples, and then he briefly stopped in his library to examine his to-do-list again.

There was one important thing he should start on, but first he had to move Nott Manor, as he'd arranged with Voldemort. Before heading to Gaunt Mansion, Harry quickly flew to Spellbridge, just to see if there had been any problems throughout the night.

Healer Calderon had set up shop in the still empty health clinic. "I brought everything I need," Healer Calderon said, waving Harry's concerns away. "And I am more than capable of conjuring some chairs and tables for the time being."

"I'll have some people start on turning this into a proper health clinic, I promise," Harry said, feeling oddly embarrassed they only had an empty building to offer the healer. "Were there any bad injuries?"

Healer Calderon shook her head. "A few cuts and bruises, as you would expect to see on people that have ran through the wilds all night." Then she got a rather amused look on her face. "There were a few youngsters of the Galloway wolves, as they seem to be called, who explored the mountain and decided to see what happens when you tickle a sleeping dragon. They had some second degree burns, but that was the worst of the injuries I've seen this morning."

Harry laughed at the idea of poor sleepy Rigel trying to get rid of some annoying young wolves set on waking him up. "Thank you for coming," Harry said sincerely and then he aimed his most charming smile at the healer. "If you want, you're welcome to move to Magica anytime. We've got free housing."

Healer Calderon chuckled while giving Harry an amused look. "I have a successful private practice in Britain that I don't want to leave behind as of yet. But if you ever have an emergency, you are welcome to contact me."

"We'll take that for now," Harry said as he got his broom again. "Thanks for coming today, at least." When Harry stepped out onto town square again, he noticed that Reginald Partridge had also been busy the previous afternoon. He had added a sign to his storefront that said PARTRIDGE BREAD AND PASTRIES. It seemed that soon enough they'd have a functional bakery and Harry loved the idea of flying into town first thing in the morning to buy some fresh croissants or muffins.

In fact, Harry figured others would enjoy something like that as well. Residents of Spellbridge might want to walk to the bakery in the morning and buy something to eat out of hand. Perhaps Harry should add a place for people to sit and at once he got an idea. Harry apparated to Galloway Forest Park where he roamed through the woods for a while until he found the perfect, mature tree to steal. There were so many trees there that no one would miss one full-grown beech tree, bare for the winter but Harry could tell from the leaflitter at its base that come spring it would be full of red leaves.

Harry carefully transfigured an open spot in the middle of town square where he planted the tree. He then used the stones he'd pulled up and transfigured them into a round stone bench that encircled the tree's trunk and offered people a lovely spot to take a rest. It still left plenty of space for a weekly market with little stalls once there were enough people living on the island with things to sell.

"Did you receive an invitation for the grand opening of the Irish Cock as well?" was the first thing Harry asked Voldemort.

"I did," Voldemort replied with an amused little smile. "I assume you're attending, as the Governor?"

"Sure, and also because I've been working my arse off and wouldn't mind an evening of drinking and merrymaking," Harry said with a wide grin. "Want to come with?"

"I was already planning on going, but I suppose we could go together," Voldemort said easily, and that was that. Voldemort grabbed Harry's shoulder and apparated them to Nott Manor.

Theodorus Nott seemed far less stuck-up than the Malfoys had done. He was an older man, had been a classmate of Voldemort's, as it turned out, and he was polite and even somewhat friendly, but he also had a shrewd glint in his blue eyes that made it clear he was by no means a fool.

"What are you planning to do with my dead house-elves," Theodorus asked with a frown when Harry named his price.

"I need workers for Magica, to farm the land and help with construction, that sort of thing. I've made six house-elf inferi so far, and they're amazingly helpful creatures," Harry said honestly, enjoying the surprised look on Theodorus' face.

"Well," Theodorus said, and then remained silent for a full minute as though unsure what else to say. "I suppose that's acceptable." And that is how Harry gained another five useable house-elf corpses he stored away under heavy preservation charms.

"You'll also have to provide food for the community, because you own so much land," Harry pointed out, just to make that clear.

"We grow fifty acres of wheat every year," Theodorus explained with a proud little smile. "We're one of the few wheat suppliers for Ogden's Fire-whiskey."

"Yeah, but if you export your wheat to Britain, it won't count for food production in Magica," Harry said while he softened his words a little with a brief grin. "I don't care how good the whiskey is."

Theodorus laughed and then gave a resigned nod. "We have more land than that. Is there any crop you need growers for?"

Harry frowned while he considered that. They already had one farmer growing wheat. "Perhaps some storage crops like potatoes, carrots and onions. Maybe some cabbages. That sort of thing."

"Our house-elves will certainly be able to grow those on the land currently not in use. Consider it done," Theodorus said, and Harry appreciated how easy the man was to work with. Then he got to work flying slowly around the property to add the runes. Nott Manor had extensive grounds, but nothing quite as big as the Malfoy Manor or Black Manor had. There was mostly farmland with many mature hedgerows, a bit of woodland around the edges, a walled kitchen garden and a small lake. Around the manor house there were beautifully landscaped gardens with many manicured hedges and roses, and little benches to sit on alongside the gravel footpaths.

Harry got the whole property moved in under two hours to its new location to the north-west of Malfoy Manor, along the northern shore of Magica.

"Thank you," Theodorus said sincerely. "I truly appreciate having a home again where I can perform the rituals my family has made their own over the generations."

"You're welcome," Harry said with a nod before joining Voldemort for lunch at his mansion again. Dobby treated them to an excellent meal of pasta in a creamy chicken and mushroom sauce with a slice of banoffee pie to finish it all off.

"Why on earth would the Malfoys want to get rid of an elf who can cook this well," Harry asked as he sat back with a satisfied sigh.

Voldemort wiped a napkin across his mouth. "No idea. Lucius told me the elf was a little skittish, but that's not the impression I got from him at all. He seems very eager to work."

"We'll have to divide our meals between my castle and your mansion from now on," Harry said while his eyes crinkled in amusement. They simply couldn't let Dobby's culinary talents go to waste, no matter how good of a cook Violet was.

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Voldemort said with an agreeable nod.

"I'm starting on basilisk island this afternoon," Harry said as he sipped a cup of tea. "Any requests?"

"I would like to add the wards myself," Voldemort said, suddenly looking utterly serious.

"Sure," Harry agreed easily enough. "I was planning on putting it to the south-east of Magica, about ten miles off the coast. I'll get the island made, add soil and trees and such. I was thinking about two miles across in size?"

"That would work. The basilisk only has an underground room right now. Anything bigger than that would please her immensely, I'm sure. Let me know when you're done and I'll add the wards."

And that is what Harry did with his afternoon. He hovered on his broom ten miles off the coast of Magica and started transfiguring the seawater into bedrock. Since the island didn't have to be too big he got the basic shape of it done in a few hours, but since darkness fell early that time of year Harry was forced to call it a day before he was able to do any decorating to the piece of rock.

The next morning, Harry joined Voldemort to move two homes of Voldemort's followers. Oliver Gibson and Corban Yaxley both had modest mansions but without more than ten acres of land or so. Harry placed both their properties across the bridge of Spellbridge, on opposite sides of Gooseberry Lane, and it took him no more than a few hours to get it all done. Both Gibson and Yaxley were polite enough, but also rather wary of Harry and didn't seem to know what to make of him just yet. Both worked at the British ministry and would continue to work there, but they both wanted to be able to practice dark magic at home without the risk of arrest.

Harry and Voldemort had lunch at Harry's castle while Violet made them beef bourguignon, which was absolutely fantastic. The rice pudding they had for afters was also lovely.

"I'm making good progress in learning Santireen," Voldemort said with an expectant smile, and then added in broken Santireen, "The language is coming for me."

Harry snickered while V cackled in clear mockery, and Harry toasted Voldemort with his glass of wine. "It's coming along fine, yeah."

"So when can we start my training in necromancy?" Voldemort asked, raising his eyebrows and looking like a hopeful, eager schoolboy on his first day of school.

"First you get homework." Harry tossed his glass of wine back in one big gulp and then gestured at Voldemort to follow him to the library. "I've taken a few necromancy apprentices over the years," Harry explained as they entered the enormous library. "So I've made an effort to write down a comprehensive study program. You get book one and you're expected to study it." Harry pulled a book from a nearby shelf and handed it to Voldemort while giving him a narrow-eyed look. "There will be tests."

"I can't wait," Voldemort said, holding the book carefully against his chest, and the thing was, he genuinely sounded like receiving tests was the most fun he could possibly have. Harry wondered how close Voldemort had actually come to being sorted into Ravenclaw. No wonder Auntie Eustice adored the man.

"Have fun," Harry said while he walked Voldemort to the front door. "I'm going to finish your murder serpent's future home today, so you can start on the wards tomorrow."

First Harry transfigured the rocky surface of the new island into sterile top soil and then he apparated to Galloway Forest Park again and stole a few remote swatches of forest with lots of mature trees which he planted around the hill he'd created on the centre of the island. Inside the hill was a whole network of underground tunnels and caves that the basilisk could use as a comfortable home. On the other side of the mature trees Harry dumped manure and top soil which he bought by the ton from a company in Wales, and then he flew across the island, distributing grass, flower, shrub and tree seeds so nature could decide what would grow best there. By the time the sun was setting, Harry sat on his broom and surveyed the island before flying around the coastline and inscribing runes for mild weather and quick growth into the rocks, so by the time the basilisk moved in the plants would be established somewhat.

After an early night, Harry again made his way to Spellbridge first thing in the morning, this time to hire more construction workers. They had new residents arriving that afternoon and no empty houses left.

Sue, Arnie and Shaun were eager to instruct any new workers as they built new homes in record time, and Harry approached Sebastian Parkinson to see if he was willing to build houses. Thankfully, he was, and he knew at least four others of the Knockturn wolves who'd be happy to gain steady employment and learn a trade. And thus beside Sebastian, Edmund, Vickie, Melina and Sadiyah joined the construction crew and got to work at once creating new streets and homes.

Harry briefly stopped across the bridge where he created a new paved street that ran across from Gooseberry Lane and named it Blueberry Drive. His next stop was Voldemort, who apparated him to the first property to move that day. It was a similar job as the previous day. Henry Travers and Gerald Avery had nice mansions with not too much land which Harry moved to Blueberry Drive without any issues.

Lunch was had at Voldemort's mansion where Dobby had a lovely meal of cassoulet waiting for them, a French stew of white beans and smoked sausages which was warm and filling. Harry loved the blackberry and apple crumble they had for dessert.

"I really have to go," Harry said with an apologetic smile the moment he finished his crumble. "We've got residents coming in and we need as many houses as we can build."

"Tonight is the opening of the pub," Voldemort pointed out and which Harry had almost forgotten about. Voldemort then pushed his chair back. "I'll come and help you with the housing so you all will be finished in time for the festivities tonight."

"Really?" Harry said, pleasantly surprised.

Voldemort gave an elegant shrug while he drank the last of his wine. "It's not like I have anything better to do, aside from studying for your undoubtedly unrelenting tests."

Harry cackled as he and Voldemort left the mansion. The construction crew had been hard at work that morning, creating three new streets they had named Willow Lane, Elm Street and Pine Place. They had fifteen new houses built already and were working hard on more when Harry and Voldemort joined them. A steady trickle of new residents occupied the new homes just about as fast at they got them built.

While Voldemort was talented and powerful, he hadn't ever created homes from scratch before and he kept wanting to put far too many useless accessories in place.

"Don't bother," Harry said with a dismissive wave when Voldemort added green window shutters. They looked lovely, it had to be said, but they were a waste of time. "Let the new residents take care of such things. We just need bare homes, stone floors and walls. The new occupants can dress it up however they like it."

"Very well," Voldemort said with a sigh that sounded surprisingly disappointed. "We'll just be boring."

An hour later a young man in his twenties came looking for Harry. "Hi, I'm Michael Dowling, Remus said to ask for you."

"What can I help you with?" Harry said, lowering his wand, while Voldemort observed them curiously.

"I'm a half-blood, and I've got family in muggle Amsterdam. Spent some summers there," Michael rattled on, clearly warming up to the subject. "The Dutch have got the most amazing bicycles, and the police hold these auctions to sell off any abandoned bicycles they find, and I was thinking I could buy those for cheap and fix them up and start a little bicycle shop here, since Remus said there were plenty of muggleborns living here and I bet they'd enjoy riding a bicycle around the island. They're cheaper than brooms, anyway."

"You want to start a bicycle shop," Harry said by way of summing up Michael's wishes.

Michael nodded vigorously. "Yeah, but use magic to improve them, but that's not allowed in Britain. I checked."

"All magic is allowed here," Harry said with a grin while he gave Michael a reassuring nod. "Go make your bicycle shop. Remus will sign you up for a loan if you need one."

"Mate, that is brilliant!" Michael gave Harry a couple of very firm pats on his shoulder, causing V to clap his beak in warning. "Thanks so, so much." And with that, Michael was off in a trot on his way back to Town Hall.

"Muggle bicycles," Voldemort said with a strange glint in his eyes. It took Harry a moment to realize Voldemort was probably feeling a bit mischievous. "I can't wait to see what my Death Eaters will have to say about that."

Harry snickered and went back to finishing the roof on the house he'd been constructing.

"I suggest we fill this street with vampire homes," Harry said when the construction crew got ready to add homes to Elm Street. "We're going to build them partially underground."

"Do you actually have a plan for the layout of the town?" Sebastian Parkinson asked, arms crossed as he gave Harry a rather critical onceover.

"Er…" Harry licked his lips and ducked his head and finally just sighed. "I'd love to have a plan for the town, but I seriously have not had time yet to sit down and actually draw up a plan."

"You need someone other than yourself in charge of construction, mate," Sebastian said without hesitation, and Harry knew he was right. Harry had too much on his plate, was away doing other things far too often to always effectively manage the construction crew.

"Good point. You're hired. Everyone, Sebastian is now our Construction Officer." Harry gave a surprised Sebastian his sweetest smile before turning back to everyone else. They spent a good half hour discussing building subterranean homes and once they had an idea what they should look like, Voldemort reminded them that it was already past five, as darkness was falling rapidly, and perhaps everyone should call it a night and go home to eat and get ready for the grand opening.

"I'll pop by the castle around eight," Voldemort said and apparated to his own home. Harry flew home, enjoying the wind in his face for a while to help him relax after a hard day's work.

Harry didn't enter his castle but instead apparated to Diagon Alley, which he all but ran through all the way to Knockturn Alley, where he hurried inside The Slaughterhouse, glad to find the store still open.

"We thought you'd forgotten about us," Midge said with a chuckle when Harry almost threw himself against the counter, completely out of breath.

"I wouldn't dare," Harry said with a charming smile while still catching his breath.

"Got your cloak," Marge said, holding up an amazing black fur cloak.

"Wow," Harry said, accepting the cloak from Marge carefully. The body of the cloak was made up of soft, tight curls that shone, while the wide collar was made of long, wild fur that stood up much like the lion's mane of his old cloak had done but this felt much softer. "What is this made of?"

Harry expected some kind of exotic animal he'd never heard of it. Instead Marge said, "Sheep."

"Sheep? Both of these furs are from sheep?" Harry looked at the sisters in disbelief, sure they were joking.

Midge leaned a little closer to Harry over the counter. "Our secret is muggles," she whispered as though she was sharing a dangerous bit of information. "They've created so many different breeds of sheep with so many different types of wool, that you can create anything with it. Just don't tell most of our clientele."

Harry laughed in sheer delight at the idea of the sisters hoodwinking all the vampires by promising them exotic furs while in reality they were just really knowledgeable about the different types of sheepskins. Just for that he gladly paid the amount of gold the sisters asked for, but they honestly had done an excellent job on creating a new cloak for him.

Once home again Harry asked Violet for one of her delicious pork pies, which he ate quickly before trudging up the stairs where Igor had filled a hot bath for him.

V insisted on bathing as well in the sink, and Harry took his time soaking in the tub and washing his hair before staring at himself in the mirror. He had been neglecting his shaving charms this past week and there was a short beard growing already.

"Shave, shave!" V insisted while he bobbed his head up and down, and Harry sighed, reached for his wand and got to work until his chin and cheeks were completely smooth again. "Good, good," V cawed, closing his eyes in happiness.

Harry stood in front of his wardrobe and examined his clothes. He always wore the same types of linen shirt and pants, but perhaps tonight was an occasion to put on his best clothes. This was a black silk shirt, black leather trousers (and yes, Harry did have to think about what the hags had said about the vampires), and a black leather vest. Harry combined it with his usual leather boots, brushed his hair and tied it back and then examined himself in the mirror.

"Not bad," V chattered from his usual spot on the headboard. "Seen worse."

Just then a few knocks echoed through the entrance hall and Harry hurried down the stairs while Igor opened the door. Voldemort was wearing a cloak, but underneath it Harry saw tailored, open robes over a black shirt and trousers. Well, at least they'd be matching that night in their complete lack of colour.

"Look what Midge and Marge made," Harry said happily as he shrugged on his new cloak.

"Very nice. It looks good on you," Voldemort said with an approving smile. "Shall I apparate us?"

"Sure." Harry offered his arm to Voldemort and moments later they stood on town square, where The Irish Cock was fully lit up and a steady stream of people was making their way inside. Voldemort slipped inside first, Harry right on his heels, and they wove their way through the already crowded room until Voldemort found an empty table on the right side of the pub. They both sat down, pulling off their cloaks and draping them across the backs of the chairs.

Voldemort offered to get the first round of drinks and while he made his way to the bar, Harry sat back and looked around.

Billy Malone was nowhere to be seen, but he'd apparently convinced his friends Shaun and Sue, of the construction crew, to help him behind the bar. Harry saw Remus and Rachel sitting at a nearby table, smiling at each other in ways that made it very clear they were more than a little interested in the other. Theodorus Nott was there as well, standing at the bar talking to Sebastian Parkinson. Mildred sat at a table, chatting with Arnold Milner, and nearby Erika and Claire were having a spirited conversation with Melissa and Leon Greengrass.

More and more people entered the pub, and Harry waved at those he knew until Voldemort returned and put a pint of brown beer in front of Harry. Blinking, Harry looked from his drink to Voldemort and back, who held a brown beer in his own hand.

"Try it," Voldemort said, taking a healthy gulp from his own glass.

And since Harry was no coward, he picked up the pint, took a gulp, and fell in love. That is how Harry met Guinness and they would become very, very close that night, and many nights to come. "Fuck, this is good," Harry said, taking another drink. Voldemort merely winked in reply while sitting back in his own chair.

Just then Regulus and what had to be Barty entered the pub, but Barty looked different than usual. His hair was darker, his nose was pointier, his chin a little more pronounced. Harry still recognized him as Barty, but a stranger wouldn't know who he was probably.

Voldemort noticed where Harry was looking and leaned closer across the table. "Barty had some transfiguration work done," Voldemort said as Harry nodded in understanding. "People believe Barty Crouch Jr to be dead, so Barty only had to change a few superficial things. He's now a second cousin twice removed, I believe."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Harry agreed, drinking more beer. "That way he can travel freely everywhere eventually." He waved at Regulus and Barty, who nodded back while they stood at the bar.

Just then, from a door near the back close to their tables, Sirius emerged, tugging on his trouser's fastenings. Right behind him Billy appeared with a satisfied smile. He blew Sirius a kiss and then hurried back to the bar through the crowd.

Sirius spotted Harry and strolled to their table, giving Harry a shit-eating grin. "Still got that old Black charm, as it turns out."

"Do you now?" Harry said, grinning just as wide as Sirius but for entirely different reasons.

"It seems plenty of people on the island have some charm," Voldemort said with a knowing smile of his own.

"Yeah, but not enough to have a nice young Irish bloke give you some personal attention," Sirius said with a confident wink before he turned around and waved at the back. "Kashvi! Hi!" And he was off again.

Harry briefly bit his lip before bursting into laughter, which quickly ended when Voldemort said, "It's certainly not hard to receive such personal attention when the other party is so eager to provide it."

Mouth falling open, Harry gaped at Voldemort in disbelief before leaning closer across the table. "You," Harry said, slowly, deliberately. "You, had your cock sucked by a muggleborn?"

Voldemort gave Harry an undiluted smirk. "Getting your cock sucked by a muggleborn is no different than getting it sucked by a pureblood, as it turns out."

Harry cracked up and bent down over his pint of Guinness, laughing so hard his eyes teared up. He had to wipe across his eyes a few times to compose himself before he could look at Voldemort again. "When on earth did you run into Billy Malone?"

"After the town meeting. He offered to give me a tour of his new pub, and then he offered me more than that," Voldemort said with an unconcerned shrug. "It appears you had your own run-in, so you can hardly judge me."

Harry quickly held up a hand. "Oh, not judging, don't worry. And he offered me that kind of attention right after he arrived on the island." Harry shrugged as well. "It had been a while, so I figured why not."

"There is nothing wrong with enjoying life's little pleasantries," Voldemort agreed with eyes crinkled in clear amusement.

"Talking about little pleasantries," Harry said, emptying his pint and getting up. "I'll get the next drinks."

They were four pints, and two bathroom breaks, into the night each when Ernest got out a guitar, while a few others picked up different instruments and before long the pub was filled with rowdy songs that most of the people could sing along with. One particularly popular song that was played over and over again, about a wild rover, had a catchy refrain that was easy to remember and soon enough Harry was bellowing along, "No, nay, never," with everyone else.

There was also a song about a drunken sailor that Voldemort even knew the words to and mouthed them along, though Harry wasn't sure if he even realized he was doing it. Almost everyone was there, even people like Avery and Travers, though they talked mostly amongst themselves. The only noticeably absent people were the Malfoys, but Harry wasn't too surprised by that. They had seemed a bit too stuck-up to go and mingle with the rabble on a Saturday night in the local pub.

After his fifth pint, Harry got up and climbed on his chair. He almost fell off it again at once, if it wasn't for Voldemort sending forth a burst of magic to keep him upright.

"Hey!" Harry yelled with a bit of a slur, waving his arms around. Several people slurred "Hey!" right back at him, but finally people seemed to realize Harry wanted to say something and they quieted down. "Hey!" Harry looked around the many, many increasingly drunk people around him and gave them all a sappy smile.

"When I first built this country, I did it for my own reasons," Harry said, using a bit of magic to summon his pint of Guinness and taking a big gulp. "But seeing you all here tonight, together, happy and free, I know that in truth, I made this country for all of you. And seeing you all here makes me realize we've become a real society without anyone even looking." Harry took a chug of beer again. "But what I really wanted to say…the next round is on me!"

That earned Harry a deafening roar of approval from the crowd and he managed to get down from his chair without breaking his neck. Ernest started the song about the wild rover again, and Harry pounded his fist on the table as he bellowed "No, nay, never," with everyone else, while Sirius had found his way behind the bar where he had his arms around Billy and Sue as they loudly sang along with the whole pub.

Harry wasn't quite sure anymore how many pints he'd had by the time Voldemort hooked his arm in Harry's elbow and they both staggered out of the pub, along with lots of other very drunk people. Harry wasn't even sure what time it was, except that it was cold and dark outside.

"We really shouldn't be apparating in this condition," Voldemort said, and even he had a bit of a slur to his voice even if he was very obviously trying to hide it. "We should walk."

"Yeah," Harry agreed easily enough. "We got roads." Harry leaned on Voldemort so much that they both swerved to the left until they crashed into the post office. "That's not right," Harry said, cracking up and cackling with laughter.

V flew up from Harry's shoulder and flew circles above their heads. "Dumb drunk, dumb drunk!"

"This way," Voldemort said, leading them through the empty shopping alley in the opposite direction of the road, but all they found at the end there was meadows.

"Where's the fucking road?" Harry said, looking around in utter confusion. "The elves built a fucking road. I've seen it."

"Where is the road?" Voldemort asked, equally as confused as he turned around on the spot, pulling Harry along in a little circle dance.

"Dumb drunk, dumb drunk!"

"No, nay, never!" Harry bellowed because he loved that song, it was just so fucking catchy.

"Oh, shut up," Voldemort said and then cracked up laughing as he looked around again. "The road it gone."

"Dumb drunk, dumb drunk!"

"Hey!" Harry yelled, leaning far too heavily on Voldemort again, who swerved to the right this time until they hit an empty shop. "No, nay, never!"

"We need the road, Harry. We need the road." Voldemort pulled Harry along, both of them stumbling across the alley until they hit the other side.

"Elf, elf," V cawed from where he landed on the roof above their heads. "Call elf!"

"Dobby!" Voldemort yelled, and that was somehow the last thing Harry remembered until the next day, when he woke up in a bed that was not his own while his head was about to explode. Harry blinked bleary eyes as he looked around in confusion, until he saw an equally bleary Voldemort lying beside him, blinking at him with bloodshot eyes.