Chapter 8: The Long Road
Harry woke up before his alarm on Monday morning. It wasn't any later than he'd been getting up while at Hogwarts, but being at Grimmauld Place and heading for the Ministry today made him anxious to get going. He slipped out of the bed, doing his best not to wake up Pansy. She hadn't moved when Harry returned from the shower. She woke up before Harry finished dressing.
With a long exhale, Pansy rolled onto her back. Some of the short hairs that ran along her hairline were stuck to her forehead. She pushed them away. "Morning."
"Hey." Harry finished buttoning his shirt before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Pansy smiled when he rested a hand on her waist.
"All right?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "Just feels weird getting up like this again. Like a normal Monday, but I don't know that I know what normal really is."
Pansy skimmed her fingers over Harry's forearm. "It'll be all right. You just need to get back into the swing of things."
"Yeah."
Going through the Ministry itself was reminiscent of Harry's very first day on the job. Back in July, other Ministry employees merely sized him up in regards to potential. With Harry's return on this side of Voldemort's capture, he grew bashful at the amount of attention cast his way. At least now, with almost all the Death Eaters sitting in Azkaban, Harry didn't have to risk being engaged by his queue neighbour while waiting to pass through security. The lockdown had been lifted on Thursday afternoon. Harry was able to beeline for the lifts, and then feign extreme interest in his watch clasp while riding up to Level Two.
A weight landed in Harry's stomach as he turned in off the corridor. The Auror office was still so empty and quiet, although Harry could at least pretend half the staff was out in the field. What Harry had no chance to ignore was the empty second desk in his cubicle.
Other than a quick pass through to collect some personal things, Harry hadn't come here since Parasca died. Because he hadn't seen her die, he could pretend to some degree that Parasca had just taken leave following a stressful situation. He hoped that he would've made her proud.
In a way, it almost felt like a slight toward Parasca that Harry had managed to come through without her. It wasn't fair to her memory that maybe she wasn't necessary—that this could've been avoided if she had just stayed on as Hogwarts' Defence professor or went home to Romania. With a deep breath, Harry pulled his chair out and took a seat. However long it'd been since he was here, the habit of saying good morning remained strong. While flipping through everything in his overstuffed inbox, Harry kept glancing over at Parasca's old spot. He still expected to see the back of her head, or the profile of her face, or her quill dashing along toward completing the deluge of paperwork awaiting them at the start of a new week.
The majority Harry had to go through was copies of the arrest records made over the weekend, since they were related to the Norheim case. Magnus felt a million miles away from all this now. Harry's fingers crept into his hair as he realized he and Parasca hadn't actually closed that.
Because Harry and Parasca had spent the final weeks of their investigation in Paris, the paperwork was very far behind. If things hadn't gone so far sideways in some ways—and so well in others (like the initial belief Voldemort had actually died as result of this work)—Harry figured he'd be answering to Kingsley about why he was four months behind in his filing. Having only been an Auror for twice that long, this was pretty grievous.
That was a good place to start on official return to the office. Kingsley came by at half-eight to touch base and see that he was okay, and Tonks not too long after. Whenever Harry needed a break from trying to put to official record everything since mid-November, he flipped through all the arrest records. He found solace in seeing cell numbers attached to the likes of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Thorfinn Rowle, and Antonin Dolohov. It only bothered Harry that Peter Pettigrew remained listed as Wanted and At-Large.
When Harry needed a break from that, he wrote to Pansy. A Ministry note from Hermione showed up as well, asking if he'd made it in, how he was doing so far, and if he wanted to meet for lunch. Harry took the opportunity to get out of the Auror office for an hour, taking the lift down a couple floors. Hermione waited for him at the level entrance. She beamed when he noticed her.
"Hi," she spoke, breathless with excitement. "I want to show you something."
Curiosity immediately piqued, Harry fell in step beside her. A hallway down the centre separated the Being division to the left from the Beast and Spirit divisions to the right. Harry turned left into the Being division out of well-formed habit, although hesitated when Hermione carried on straight instead of left again toward the House-Elf Support and Resources Office.
Hermione glanced over her shoulder, smiling again when she realized Harry's confusion. He jogged a little to catch back up. They passed by the Werewolf and Vampire Liaison offices, and then Hermione turned on her heel and came to a stop beside a slightly ajar door. Her face flushed as she gestured at the office signboard:
Hermione Granger
Head of Druidic Research and Archives
"I mean, calling me the Head of something is a little much at the moment," Hermione prattled when Harry didn't say anything. "It's only me right now, but Madam Prickle said that as things develop and the need becomes apparent, I'll have a team under me."
"Hermione." Harry finally found his voice. "You have an office."
She led Harry inside. It smelled new, like fresh parchment and ink. All Hermione had for now was a desk, chair, and a filing cabinet. Several piles of books and loose sheets already covered the desktop.
"I'll clear you a spot." Hermione started shifting things. "Sorry, I dove headfirst this morning. There's just so much to do. I have a whole new magic class to quantify, as well as three languages—at least—and who knows how many centuries of history to untangle. Correcting Ministry records is going to be an undertaking of its own. Madam Prickle already talked to Madam Bones about me possibly having access to Hildegard to talk to. She's a Parselmouth, and she must speak Avispråk if she knows Druidic. Then there's Helka if she's willing, and if I have Helka that might mean I'm able to visit Leidfall whenever I can make it out there. Then I have Dagmar, of course. . ."
Harry sat down in the chair he'd conjured. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face if he wanted to.
"It's brilliant," he told her. "There wouldn't be anyone better for this job. Seven years spent with you in the Hogwarts library, I'd have to be right thick not to see you're in your element here."
Hermione beamed again as she dropped into her chair. Her shoulders slouched forward slightly, as if she tried to catch her breath. "I think I am. That's why I didn't hesitate to take it."
"What about house elves, though?" Harry unwrapped the sandwich he'd thrown together that morning.
"Oh, I'm still going to consult there." Hermione's spine straightened again. "We had a good ball rolling, and my colleagues didn't exactly falter when I was temporarily reassigned."
"I guess, hey?"
"Oh! Guess who else is coming back! Or coming on, however you want to say it."
"Who?"
"Lupin." With all Hermione's excitement and news, Harry wondered how she would even get around to eating her lunch. "Madam Prickle mentioned it. Dumbledore had told Madam Bones how Lupin was tending to the werewolves after Greyback died. Since they stayed out of everything, it's a good starting place in building a relationship between them and the Ministry. Who would be more in-tune with what werewolves need and want than the werewolves themselves?"
"Do you know when he starts?" Harry asked. "I haven't seen him since the Order meeting we had last Easter."
"Me neither," Hermione replied. "He was still out in Dartmoor Park as of yesterday. I hope he lets us know when he's back. I'd like us to all have dinner or something. I'll see him here, anyway."
That was something to look forward to, and something to think about as Harry headed back up to the Auror office at the end of the lunch hour. Before dropping back into the report he'd left off on, Harry sifted through everything else to find Peter Pettigrew's file.
He dug out his messengers from the desk. The one he shared with Draco and Dagmar had needed the dust wiped off it that morning when Harry collected his things for work.
Malfoy, was curious what your week is like, Harry wrote. I'm bogged down with paperwork at the office, but it would be a nice break to go up to Bergen with you and Helka whenever you have time.
Harry didn't get a reply by the end of the day. He thought about popping in at Malfoy Manor to ask, but he didn't want to intrude on any of its occupants.
Tuesday was the last day of cursory interviews with Mr and Mrs Malfoy, Mr Nott, Hildegard, and Dagmar. Maybe because Dagmar was scheduled for Tuesday morning, Harry had a response from Draco when he checked his messenger at half-ten: How about tomorrow?
Don't see why not, Harry replied. Sooner the better, before Wormtail hears about what happened and scampers off. I'll ask Helka today if that works for her.
She's with Hildegard. I could head down the hall and ask her? Spare you the trouble
Cheers mate
Only after the words faded from view, sent, did Harry wonder if he overstepped by calling Draco that. Maybe Draco was grateful to him for bringing Dagmar home, but Harry could still plainly see his pointed features contorted with loathing, betrayal, and grief.
If Draco had a problem with it, there was no hint to be found in his follow-up: Tomorrow works for her. So how/when do you want to meet up? You'll have to talk to Blaise. He's secret keeper for my cottage
He works tomorrow don't he?
8 yeah he starts
Would he swing by Ramstad manor first?
Don't see why not but I'll ask
While they went back and forth, Harry filled out the form to let Kingsley know he'd be out of office the next day. When it came time to submit, he took it by hand rather than enchant it to soar across the floor. Kingsley's office door was open.
He looked up when Harry rapped his knuckles on it, gaze dropping to the form. "Come on in."
"I had this to give you, but I had a thought while filling it out." Harry held the form to him across the desk. "Malfoy and Helka are both good to come up with me to Bergen tomorrow so we can try to track down Peter. Thing is, should I be handling a Death Eater on my own? Even if it's just Peter, would it be best if I went along with someone?"
"See if Tonks is up to it, and then modify this to reflect that." Kingsley handed it back. "I don't see why she wouldn't be. Plus, I think she's already familiar with that neck of the woods."
Harry nodded, although he wasn't completely sure on that. He'd heard that Andromeda and Ted occasionally visited Draco and Dagmar before Bellatrix invaded their home. Tonks never mentioned going with them, not that it was really Harry's business.
"Harry."
He turned back at the doorway.
Kingsley leaned forward on his desk. "Regardless of who goes with you, I think you should make the arrest."
Harry nodded. "Guess I gotta take the training wheels off on that sometime."
"Er—sure." Kingsley blinked. "That too."
Harry's stomach dropped with realization. "Oh. Yeah."
"Will you be up for it?"
"Yeah," Harry said right away. "It'll—yeah. I'll be okay."
Still, Harry's heart pounded as he left Kingsley's office. He'd thought far enough ahead about being the one to bring Peter in, but not what it personally meant to him to be the one conducting the actual arrest. With how tightly Harry's throat clenched at the idea, he decided to take a minute at his cubicle before talking to Tonks. He didn't want anyone to see how much it affected him to confront Peter Pettigrew for the grievances he'd committed against his parents and Sirius. The three of them were actually going to receive justice, even if they weren't here to see or know that.
It took filling out a couple unrelated forms and then fetching a cup of tea from the break room before Harry felt he had enough control over his emotions to see about Tonks. She was so excited for something to do that didn't entail sitting behind a desk that Harry figured she didn't consider the connotations. She did later on. Harry could see it when they made eye contact on his way out for lunch. Harry thought about telling Hermione, but Viktor joined them in her office today. It was too close anyway to Harry's heart for him to speak it aloud. He couldn't tell Ron or Pansy either, that evening. Harry decided he would rather inform them all of it after the fact instead.
They all noticed the weight of it, of course. All three asked in some form if he was all right, and Harry just wrote it off that coming back to the office after everything was a difficult transition.
"I'll be out of office today, so you might not hear from me," Harry told Pansy when he saw her to the fireplace the next morning.
"Will you be back by five?" A little smile came up as she put her arms around his neck. "I've already gotten used again to you popping in at the shop."
Harry appreciated the chance to laugh, pulling her into a proper hug. "Hope so. I'll try to touch base, if not."
"Somebody knows where you'll be, right?"
"Yeah, I'm going with Tonks. And Kingsley knows. He had to okay it and all that."
"Okay."
A little bit of a snog sent Harry off with steeled nerves. He wasn't concerned at all that he might get hurt. Was this what everyone would think now, if Pansy reported to Ron and Hermione that Harry did field work today? That he was possibly going to be in danger?
Harry left Grimmauld Place before Ron had the chance to ask. His bedroom door had only just opened on the first floor when Harry grabbed a handful of floo powder. Harry called up a goodbye before he was gone, spinning west to Ramstad Manor.
There was a small gathering in the middle of the great room. Draco had already arrived, and Dagmar with him. Zabini beat Harry as well. He and Dagmar stood side-by-side. The two of them grinned and held hands as they chatted, just a couple fingers hooked around the others'. Harry felt as though he intruded as he stepped out of the fireplace. Helka lingered off to the side with her bum rested on the arm of a couch.
"Hey," Draco greeted Harry with a nod. His easy smile lingered. "Reckon Tonks will be much longer? Blaise only has a few more minutes before he needs to go."
"Shouldn't be." Harry nodded similarly at Zabini. "All right?"
"Mhm."
For the sake of making conversation, Harry considered asking Zabini how Luca was doing with everything. He decided against it hardly a beat before the fireplace lit up green again. Tonks stepped out. With that, Zabini revealed the cottage to Harry and Tonks, gave Dagmar one more tight hug, and then was gone.
"I guess you're all going right away?" Dagmar asked. When Harry and Tonks both confirmed, she turned to Draco. "I'll see you later, then."
They hugged and kissed before Draco stepped up to the fireplace. Harry left behind him for the Grand Floo Junction, Helka coming in after. When they arrived at Den Sultne Jotunn, Harry held an arm out to Helka.
"We could just apparate from here," he told her.
Draco and Tonks did the same. Harry pictured the cottage's garden in his mind, although hesitated when the last state he'd seen it in manifested. He could almost feel the wash of rain and hear glass breaking. He opened his eyes again, blinking in Den Sultne Jotunn's back room.
Helka furrowed her brow. "Are you okay?"
"Er, yeah." Harry took a deep breath and steadied himself for the next attempt. "Just fine."
Humidity greeted them when they slipped out of place at the inn and reappeared outside the cottage's garden door. Shocker: it was raining. The garden door was open, and Draco stood there.
His eyebrow rose as Harry hesitated again. "Coming in?"
"Yeah."
Draco's expression straightened, and his chin rose. He waited until Helka passed him by to speak with a lowered voice. "You can't tell what happened, if it makes things easier."
Harry stepped inside. He looked over toward the living room, where Tonks and Helka stood with folded arms in front of the tentative fire. Harry could see himself standing between the couches, like what Voldemort would've seen when he came through this door intent to kill him. Harry's gaze dropped. Voldemort's body had laid right there. He wondered where Parasca's had fallen—then struck the thought. It was perhaps better not to know.
Draco closed the door quietly so as to escape Tonks and Helka's notice. "The first time back is the hardest. I found it's better once the cottage warms up. It still feels a bit empty to me without Dagmar, but that should hopefully change soon enough."
"She's doing all right still?" Harry asked. "I found it took a couple days for things to really start sinking in."
Draco's mouth worked a little. He folded his arms again before his shoulders rose in a slight shrug. "She has her moments. She's nervous about going in front of the Wizengamot, but she said her interview with Madam Bones yesterday went well enough. Most of the things she was asked were just corroborating what everyone else said before her."
"Voldemort hasn't stirred yet?"
"You would've been the first to hear, if he had." Draco shook his head. "Dagmar's worried he won't, and she'll be stuck."
"It's unlikely he'll just let himself disappear," Harry said. "That's not like him. He'll eventually want to know what's going on around him so that he can try and plot an escape."
With a quiet scoff, Draco rolled his eyes. "He's going to be pretty disappointed, isn't he?"
"Yeah."
"Granger mentioned Nagini was put down."
Harry nodded. "Yesterday afternoon. Was Dagmar still. . .I don't know, upset or whatever about it?"
"No, she understood why it had to be done. She had a good point about how it feels to see a magical creature like that no longer be. I get it. I started work at Jotunheimen pretty shortly after the oldest dragon there died. Once they're as big as they get—not to mention so old—you wonder how they ever could die. When they're dangerous, though. . ." Draco shrugged. "I thought about suggesting Nagini just be let loose in the reserve. It would be more than enough space for her, and we could fence her in using the same runic magic as the dragons. She would offset the biosphere way too much, though. I also wouldn't want hikers running into her, or running into her myself if I was out there. She would probably also try to nick dragon eggs."
"I don't reckon she'd have lived long anyway if she tried that."
Draco chuckled. "No."
Their conversation faltered as Tonks migrated over.
"Should we get Helka on her way, then?" Tonks asked. "Who knows how long it might take to track Pettigrew down."
"Might as well." Harry cleared his throat. "We'll have to leave the confines of the Fidelius Charm. Helka won't be able to bring Wormtail to the cottage."
"Not a bad day to go down to the lake," Draco said. "There's a table there with a shelter we could sit under. I doubt the trail would be busy at all, given it's a Wednesday morning."
Harry explained everything to Helka as they all stepped back outside. She nodded, transformed into a crow, and then was gone. Harry fell in step with Tonks as Draco led the way toward the path they would take. Once it was clear where they were going, Draco slowed so that the three of them walked together. He pulled the hood up on his jumper. Harry followed suit once water came more consistently down on them from the trees.
"So you remember what all you're supposed to say and that, right?" Tonks asked Harry with a bump of their elbows.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Parasca used to have me practice it so often I could probably prattle off an arrest in my sleep."
"You don't have to stick to it either, if you get a little tongue-tied." Tonks hopped a little as she jumped over a large protruding root. "It's not like if you forget to say one of the crimes you're arresting him for, he's going to get off on a technicality. You don't even have to say anything at all, if you don't want to. Pettigrew knows what he's done. He doesn't need to be reminded."
That took some of the pressure off, for sure. It would certainly be easiest to say nothing to Peter, especially in front of Tonks and Draco. This was far too personal for an audience. Harry's stomach fluttered alive with nerves, necessitating a deep breath to try and push it all down.
Tonks struck up a new conversation with Draco about the path, the lake they headed toward, and other things that reminded Harry a world still existed outside of this. Draco had lots to say about the network of hiking trails branching out east from the mountain. He and Dagmar had never been swimming in Storevatnet, but his gaze turned reminiscent when he pointed south along the lake's western shore to show Harry and Tonks where he had proposed to Dagmar.
"I don't even remember what I said," Draco said with an airy laugh. "I was so bloody nervous. I have no idea how blokes go into that without knowing well ahead she's going to say yes."
"Lack of self-awareness," Tonks replied.
Harry felt himself lighten as he finally managed to graduate beyond a placid smile. Laughter definitely helped him come out of his head a little bit. How autumn had changed the colour of the lake's surface (now a dull black) wasn't something Harry figured Draco would've noticed during such a high-stress situation. Harry cracked up again when Draco took to elbowing Tonks repeatedly, grinning cheekily as he insinuated how exhausted the rest of that weekend had left him.
"I don't think I know what you mean," Tonks said with a snicker before pushing him away. "I don't get it, Draco. Quit poking me."
"Well, you see, when two people think the other one is proper lush. . ."
"Only two?"
Draco's gaze snapped to Tonks, expression suddenly straight. She burst out laughing.
"What're you on about?" Draco asked.
His tone retained a hint of humour, which backed Harry off the thought a fight might break out. Tonks' laugh came up nearly to a shriek when Draco got her in a headlock. Her blue hair was wild when he finally let her go after enough pleading. How their faces similarly flushed reminded Harry like a jolt that their mums were sisters.
They came up on the covered table Draco had mentioned. There were a couple boghouses, one of which Tonks headed for. Harry grew a little confused then as he tried to figure out what the two of them had been talking about, but he mentally shrugged it off. They were cousins. Family that closely related tended to have their own language sometimes.
Draco waved his wand at the table to make rid of the leaves and bird droppings. He sat down, leaning over the tabletop with his curled fist against his cheek.
"I guess now we wait," he said as Harry joined him. "Think it'll take all day? Or that Helka will actually find him that quickly?"
"She's going to ask around," Harry replied. "Other birds or even snakes might know of a rat that seemed smarter or different from any others they tried to hunt. Plus, Wormtail already looked pretty shabby five years ago. He's distinctive."
"True enough." A sneer passed over Draco's face as his shoulders seized upward in a shudder. "I still can't believe I hosted that vermin in my house. No pun intended."
"What was he like?" Harry had only heard about it through Dumbledore, and no details.
"Pathetic. Always on the verge of crying, it seemed like. I guess I can't fault him that. Aunt Bella didn't treat him very well. She didn't like him either." Draco paused. "Broken clock, and all that."
"Have your mum and Andromeda been able to talk, at least?"
"Through messenger." Draco traced some of the wood grain in the table with his left pointer finger. "I had a thought maybe they were trying to figure out how to undo a Fidelius Charm, but the Unspeakables that visit Malfoy Manor only want to see Hildegard."
"Unspeakables?" Harry felt a small crack in his neck from how fast he turned his head back to Draco. "What're they doing?"
"They wouldn't be Unspeakables if they told me, would they?" Draco smirked again, amused with himself. "Hildegard won't say either, so Dagmar and I figure it's to do with whatever that secret is she's keeping."
"Oh yeah. Could be."
Harry felt more obligated than curious to ask. He could rest easy as far as Hildegard went, knowing that she had taken a seat with Madam Bones and been dissected as thoroughly as the Malfoys and Mr Nott. Harry would've liked to be a fly on the wall when Madam Bones realized she was sitting across the table from a god. He definitely wondered what interest the Department of Mysteries would have in that, but Harry couldn't really think of a better place suited to deal with such a thing. Hermione's office, maybe, since gods were certainly druids.
Harry folded his arms on the table. "How's Luca doing? Have you talked to him at all since Thursday?"
Draco shook his head, pursing his lips briefly. "I've been talking to Blaise since Luca went back to Hogwarts. He's trying to absorb everything. Blaise isn't sure it's going too well. He's worried about Luca, but what's new? I kind of wish I was still at Hogwarts. I could keep an eye on him."
"Yeah." Harry supposed the same for himself, were he still stationed there.
"I think it would benefit him to talk to Dagmar, but. . ." Draco's shoulders rose in a slow shrug. "Can't force that. I don't blame him for not wanting to while Voldemort is still kicking around. Dagmar doesn't take that personally. She's all too aware of how cocked up the situation is."
Tonks emerged from the boghouse. With a glance over at Harry and Draco, she opted to migrate toward the lake. There was a log beside it, which she took a seat on. She started lobbing stones into the water.
"I was pretty surprised to see Dagmar and Hildegard getting on all right when they got home," Harry said. "Standing back from the situation, it's all pretty cocked up. I remember wondering this time last year if it was possible Voldemort might have had a child. Turns out I was right, but I definitely miss being that bloody ignorant."
"Where did you even think Luca fit into everything?"
"Nowhere, really." Harry shrugged. "If he didn't look exactly like Voldemort at that age, we wouldn't have noticed him at all. Mum an Auror, sensitive kid, smart enough to place a year ahead of his age group. . .he wasn't even supposed to be in Slytherin, according to the Sorting Hat. He chose to go there over Hufflepuff because that's where his friends were."
"What an absolute Hufflepuff."
Harry laughed along with him, although tapered off into a thoughtful hum. "I'm surprised the Sorting Hat didn't realize Luca was a descendant of Slytherin himself. Then again, I don't know if the Hat notices things like that. It did Ron. Knew exactly where to put a Weasley."
"It knew where to put a Malfoy too," Draco said with a nudge of his foot under the table. "Probably has to be something you're aware of. I identified strongly with my family name, and I can't imagine Weasley was any different."
"Probably, yeah," Harry replied. "It occurred to me as we unraveled how Luca got from Trondheim to Bucharest that he and I have a lot in common. Zabini told me that Luca had been left with a note in a basket in the Auror office. That's pretty much what happened to me after Hagrid picked me up from Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore left me on the step at my aunt and uncle's house. If it was April that Magnus did that to Luca, since Zabini said that's when they celebrated their adoption anniversary, then he and I were within a month apart in age when that happened. I was lucky to get to keep my name. When I found out the truth about my parents, I was always told that they were heroes. I was young too, so a lot of it went over my head. I can't imagine finding out after coming of-age that your biological father is a wannabe dictator and mass murderer."
"I hope it doesn't cock him up too badly." Draco sighed. "I would bet you real gold there isn't a single other person in the world that's been through the same situation. Luca has absolutely nobody to gauge his feelings from. Dagmar maybe because of the shock of finding out her parents had joined the Death Eaters, and then trying to backtrack through her family's past. At least for us, that process was slow. Dagmar had time to adjust to each new thing over the course of months. Luca got it all pretty much within two minutes, when you told him down in the Chamber."
"It's too bad it happened that way," Harry said. "It was going to be bad enough just to hear in the first place. With more time, I could've been less blunt. He wouldn't have had to meet Voldemort. Imagine that being how you meet your dad, him coming essentially to kill you."
"There have been times I wondered if my father cared more about Voldemort than me, but it's never been that bad."
"Provided your dad told me the truth when I chatted with him the other day, he did it all for you." Harry pulled his hands back into the sleeves of his jumper as they started to get chilly. "He wanted to keep a close eye on Voldemort for a time when he was vulnerable. That would've been after the Bjorn transfer. Until Bjorn was reborn and Voldemort's soul fragmented again, he was as mortal as you or I."
Draco nudged Harry again with his foot. "Bad comparison."
Harry snorted. "You know what I mean."
"I wonder if my father intended to kill Voldemort when that opportunity presented itself." Draco idly rubbed his chin. "He didn't explicitly say he did, but he expected Voldemort would be hit with a Killing Curse once he was whole inside Luca's body. He thought Hildegard could just hold onto Luca's soul until then, and then put it back in his empty body."
"Can that be done if the body's dead?" Harry asked. "It's not like being kissed by a dementor, or something. The heart isn't beating anymore."
"Apparently not for a magic-driven death." Draco shrugged. "I see why he thought she might be able to. When Dagmar was treating Voldemort at our home, she had to fix his heart. He was passing out randomly, it was in such bad shape. She had to jolt him."
Harry hummed. "Like a defibrillator."
"A what?"
"Muggle doctors use them," Harry said. "It's the same sort of thing, except it's a machine instead of a person."
"Oh yeah."
While they talked, Tonks had migrated away. She too had pulled the hood of her jumper up, and wore gloves. She'd crossed a rickety little bridge that led to a path running along the lake's northwestern shore. The occasional quiet glug reached the shelter as Tonks repeatedly disturbed the water surface. Harry glanced that way when he saw a stick go leisurely spinning through the air.
"So what about you?" Draco asked. "How're you doing?"
"Fine."
Draco scoffed, which pulled Harry's attention back from where Tonks nearly disappeared from view. "You're just about to arrest the man responsible for your parents being killed, and you're fine."
Disbelief dripped from Draco's words, emphasized by raised eyebrows. Harry looked away again. He became aware of his heart, as if it beat hard enough to rattle his rib cage.
"I'm sure you don't need to hear anymore about it," Draco said after a moment of silence. "I can only imagine what Granger's been like, or Pansy. Weasley doesn't strike me as the type to go in too much about something so emotional."
"I never told them."
Even though Draco sat outside of Harry's visual field, his astonishment was practically audible.
"You didn't tell them?" Draco repeated. "Why not?"
"Didn't want to talk about it." Harry busied himself plucking some pine needles and fuzz off his jumper. "Not ready yet, maybe. I didn't want them badgering me about it when I go home if it's going to take more than one day. It'll be easier to say so when the job's done."
"I guess, hey?"
Harry sucked on his teeth with the effort it took to hold back on a tightening throat. He could hardly loosen it enough to speak again. "It's very personal."
"Is it going to be all right for Tonks, Helka, and I to be here for it?" Draco asked. "I intended to give you space when the time comes, if that makes you feel better. I bet they will too."
"Thanks."
"Not like it's my place anyway, to be involved." Gravel crunched under Draco's feet as he readjusted. "I'm not an Auror or anything. You just needed access to my cottage."
"I mean. . ." Harry shrugged, clearing his throat. "I'd rather have a distraction while we wait. Tonks has been giving me that look like she understands how important this is for me. She never asked, but I'd rather the opportunity have just not come. Maybe she didn't think it was her place."
"Maybe. Like you said, it's personal."
"I just can't believe it's come to this." In attempt to hide how raspy his voice grew, Harry spoke more softly. "I never thought any of them would see justice. I thought the prophecy meant I was going to kill Voldemort, if he didn't kill me first. I figured that would be the closest thing to him being held accountable. And then Wormtail, I. . ." Harry swallowed. "He went so long with everyone believing he was a hero while Sirius sat in Azkaban. Voldemort might not have even returned, if it wasn't for him. Then Sirius just vanishes, and Wormtail got to keep on going. Life is so fucking unfair."
As soon as Harry said that, he wished he hadn't. That too was very personal in how close it struck to home. Horror bubbled up within Harry as the lake blurred in his vision. Keeping his breath steady became its own exercise, of which he knew he failed.
Harry hadn't made it these last two days riding on the edge for it to boil over now. He wasn't about to break down in front of Draco Malfoy, of all people.
Warm pressure in Harry's hand undermined that assertion. Maybe because most of Harry couldn't believe Draco had grabbed it, he returned the squeeze. He needed something to hold on to as mortification took complete hold. Harry figured his jumper hood hid most of it, but quick draws of air combined with the odd swipe of his free sleeve left no mistake what had finally found its way out.
As the frothy top of Harry's tightly contained grief bubbled out, he felt a lot better. An ache he hadn't really noticed in his stomach loosened, then disappeared completely. He just wished he didn't have to feel so stupid for it.
As Harry came back around to himself, he realized with a wave of uncertainty that he still clasped Draco's hand. He took it back a little too quickly to maybe not seem rude.
"Sorry." Harry still couldn't look at Draco.
"I don't get why you'd feel embarrassed about being upset," Draco replied. True to his statement, he sounded as blasé to Harry as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "I've still cried more today than you have."
Harry managed a scoff. "Trust you to make a competition out of it."
Draco laughed.
Harry worked his bottom lip. "What about, then?"
"It'll probably get me for a while yet when I wake up and Dagmar's there. And then there wasn't much point trying not to get all misty-eyed when Dagmar and Blaise saw each other again for the first time."
"It's a bit different to cry when you're happy than. . .this."
"What do you think I did for three months up until last Thursday?" Draco was back to kicking Harry under the table. "And do you think I did it stoically, like you just did? Nah, mate. The ugliest, guttural sobs. Snot pools on the pillow levels of nasty. So bad that sometimes Heimr would come over to make sure I was going to survive. Terrible business, but necessary."
"Necessary," Harry repeated. "It doesn't get anything done."
"It's for you, and you alone. No wonder you don't understand."
"Oh, piss off."
"Go on, then. Tell me I'm wrong."
Harry almost resented Draco for the smile he couldn't suppress. He kicked Draco back under the table.
"It's healthy." Draco turned stern. "If you think you shouldn't do it because it's a waste of time or whatever bollocks, then I'm a little concerned what you're going to do with yourself when there's no one left to throw in Azkaban."
Anxiety settled where the knot previously had, in Harry's stomach. "Haven't thought of that."
"There are the trials, I suppose." Draco sighed in Harry's peripheral vision. "Plus getting Voldemort to move along. I can't exactly deny I have a personal interest in your one-gear mind when it comes to that."
Harry laughed. He lightened a bit again at the notion that he didn't really have to consider the question of what came next for a little while longer. He also felt good enough to risk making eye contact with Draco again. When he looked over, Draco's gaze was elsewhere and he almost looked bored.
"So what about you, then?" Harry asked. "What comes next?"
"Dagmar and I already had plans that I can start looking forward to again." Draco renewed his lean on the table, jaw in his hand. Harry glanced away when their gazes met, although brought it back in short enough order. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he expected. "I go back to Jotunheimen on Sunday. I'm just going to commute from Britain for now. Dagmar's corresponded with her dean, and they're going to figure out how to get her back into her programme. He mentioned that she doesn't exactly need the certificate to perform the specialty she was angling toward, given her abilities are innate. Dagmar won't hear it, of course."
"Wouldn't think so." Harry chuckled. "Bit too ambitious, yeah?"
"Mhm." A fond, faraway look eased Draco into an easy smile. "Getting her home is important. Now that our parents are back, we're able to talk more seriously about when we'll get married. Whenever we discussed it before, I was always the one in favour of doing everything as soon as possible. We had a disagreement when we first talked about getting engaged. I said we might as well go ahead and do it because we know where we're going to wind up, but she wanted to wait until after we'd lived together a little while. Back then, we thought we had all the time in the world. I think now we're both on the same page about things happening sooner than later."
"Been talking about a wedding, then?"
"Not really. I'm honestly not particularly fussed because it puts a lot of work between now and when I get to call Dagmar my wife. She hasn't really mentioned it either. I'll see if she catches the bug after seeing Daphne. She was in plan mode last I saw her and Theo in December. Nice distraction from everything, and she and Theo couldn't really go anywhere with the Ministry keeping an eye on him."
"Yeah." The thought Mr Nott might reach out to his son hadn't amounted to anything.
"I might as well give you the heads up now. You'll have a seat at any wedding we have."
Harry's cheeks warmed. "Oh, you don't have to—"
"I won't hear a word of argument about it. We wouldn't even be having one if it wasn't for you. Besides." Draco's spine straightened as he appraised Harry. "We're mates, aren't we?"
"Wouldn't figure that's something you'd be interested in after I nearly killed Dagmar, put you in Azkaban, and then almost got you killed at Hogwarts last week."
Draco waved it off. "The last one wasn't on you. That was my decision entirely. It wasn't like you hid behind me. I stepped in the way."
"I guess." Harry toyed with the sleeve of his jumper, suppressing the unprompted reminder of how it felt when Draco pushed himself upright off him in the Chamber. "Talked to your dad yet about everything?"
"Nah," Draco said. "We're getting on all right, so I'm in no rush. I'm more preoccupied with Dagmar, and my parents are trying to adjust to being back home. The preliminary interviews are over now, at least."
"What's going on with your parents, then?" Harry asked. "I sort of wondered, considering there are only so many bedrooms at Malfoy Manor. Everyone's getting along too. Your dad and Mr Nott were sitting together in the great room when I showed up Friday."
"Mum must have told Auntie Andie, since Tonks took the piss earlier," Draco replied. "I suppose that means Mum isn't rushing to keep it a secret. My parents reconciled, but my mum and Mr Nott still have a thing."
"Your dad's all right with that?"
"Was his idea, apparently."
"Huh."
"Yeah, surprised me too." Draco shrugged. "Whatever. Like I told my mum, do what makes you happy. I'm giving them space on the whole thing because to me it seems overcomplicated. I can't imagine having a second person. I doubt my mum probably could either before everything that happened. She never struck me as that type of person. Neither of my parents did, really."
"Must be different when you're older. Or maybe when you've been together for a long time. Plus—yeah, special circumstances."
"What about you and Pansy?" Draco asked. "Any big plans?"
"We haven't made any yet." Harry toyed with the drawstring on his hood. "We've still only been together for six months. She's mentioned she'd like kids someday, but we haven't talked about that or marriage in any kind of serious way. It's too soon. We both just like letting things go as they go. It's worked for us."
"I suppose it would be different since you weren't arranged," Draco said. "That takes a lot of the work out of things. Dagmar and I wouldn't have started going together if we hadn't already agreed to marriage down the road."
"Yeah."
"Met Pansy's parents yet?"
"Shockingly, they like me."
"Why's it shocking? They weren't Death Eaters, so not as extreme as the Black family when it came to things like blood status."
"They were concerned that going with me might put Pansy at risk." Harry was more glad than ever that that possibility was behind them. "They could've used her as a lure or something. Voldemort did it with Sirius, and that went pretty swimmingly for him."
Harry glanced at Draco long enough to see him wince. "If it's any consolation, you're far from alone in being someone that he somehow manipulated. You were only a kid as well."
"I was old enough to know better."
"Hildegard didn't know better, and she's like seven-hundred years old," Draco pointed out. "I don't think age is much a factor."
Harry idly nodded. Draco made a solid argument without even knowing everything there was to know about Hildegard. Harry didn't actually know how old Hildegard was, considering she'd have arrived to—Earth, Midgard, whatever she called it—sometime prior to the ninth century. She'd come from somewhere else before that, and who knew how time worked there. That Voldemort had managed to bring a being like that to heel put it into clear perspective how Harry had let himself be so easily fooled. He only wished the consequences hadn't been so dire.
Tonks had worked her way back to the shelter to touch base. She ended up sitting with them while the rain picked up a little bit. In wake of being successfully cheered, Harry veered more toward properly calm as the heavy drops pattered against the tin roof above them. The morning withered away, after which Draco mentioned a wish he'd thought ahead about bringing lunch. Tonks politely cowed Draco using her 'cousin voice' to convince him to go back to his place for something to eat. Draco did after pretending to debate it (and it didn't hurt that Tonks took to pleading with and flattering him). When Draco returned about half an hour later, he apparated back so far away from the shelter that his jumper was soaked by the time he'd run over.
"Forgot where we were, or what?" Tonks teased him.
"No." Shortness of breath made Draco sound terse. "Stupid loaner wand. It's touchy."
Harry accepted the sandwich Draco passed him. "Still haven't got yours figured out?"
"Ollivander said he'd write if he did." Draco pulled the wand he had out of his jumper pouch to dry himself off. It was a spotty job and put out more steam than usual. "I think I'm going to pop in there either Friday or Saturday if I don't hear. I need a proper wand before work on Sunday. This one was sadly the best pick in the meantime."
Draco had also brought some trail mix, as well as a small bag of Dagmar's homemade cookies from the freezer. They were still cold when Harry got to his. That they were pumpkin squeezed his heart with nostalgia. He appreciated all over again that Dagmar would one day be baking up a storm at the cottage. Maybe Harry would be fortunate enough to get fresh stuff from her.
The rain let up a bit in the early afternoon, enough that a repelling charm cast on his jumper kept Harry dry as he and Draco took a walk down Storevatnet's western shore and back. Tonks joined them when they headed northeast from the shelter. The path wound around a small bay, then inclined to a good place for looking down on the northern half of the lake. Harry sat on a boulder for a while, chucking stones down to the water. The three of them headed back to the shelter when the rain grew heavy again.
It all made for such a relaxing day that Harry practically forgot what they'd even come here for. He remembered with a flip of the stomach when Tonks wondered after Helka, and then again when they discussed how long they might have to wait until she called it for the day. Draco estimated sunset to be around half-six. Tonks told Draco he was more than free to leave anytime if he had somewhere to go, but he just shrugged. They were starting to discuss a potential run for dinner just past four when the squawk of a crow cut the area's peaceful quietness.
Helka's wingspan had increased since Harry saw her off that morning. She looked more like a black eagle than a crow, and it was no wonder why the modification was necessary. Harry jumped up from where he sat to see a rat in her grasp, fighting and squeaking all the way down to the ground. Helka tossed Peter up into the air as she transformed back to a human, catching him in her arms.
Her cloak was too thick for Peter's claws to penetrate, but that didn't stop him from trying. Helka wrinkled her nose eventually and held him at arm's length by the scruff of his neck. The squeaking worsened, as if Helka pried his toes off one by one.
Harry cast a holding charm first of all, to ensure that Peter wouldn't apparate away. His heart pounded. Otherwise, he was calm. There was a certain satisfaction to see Peter again like this, struggling to no end other than finally getting exactly what he'd deserved.
The thrashing went on. Harry wondered if Peter had even noticed who all stood here, or that Helka had returned to human form.
"Peter," Harry snapped.
Peter went still. Well, the thrashing and squeaking stopped, anyway. He still trembled, his little chest moving so fast Harry wondered if he might have a heart attack before they could even leave Norway. Peter flinched when Harry pointed his wand at him again. As his spell took effect, Peter's body started to increase in size. His features became more human. The weight of him was too much for Helka to keep holding onto. She dropped him. When Peter hit the ground, it was with a sound halfway between human and rat. It would have been funny on its own without context.
Harry lowered his wand when Peter's emaciated, shabby form laid on the wet path in front of him. He panted with his face angled downward. There were a couple quiet voices behind Harry, and then the squelch of grass and mud before a warm hand laid on Harry's shoulder. It was Tonks.
"Draco and I are going to take a walk," she said. "We'll put some anti-Muggle charms up, make sure there're no interruption or witnesses."
No witnesses sounded dire, but Harry knew she didn't mean it that way. "All right."
The two of them left. Helka fell in step with them. With a glance around, she turned back into a crow and hopped along before flying up to Draco's shoulder.
Peter started to calm down a little. He still drew long, shuddering breaths, but no longer sounded as though he'd collapsed after a marathon. His cheek remained against the ground, and his gaze somewhere around Harry's trainers.
Harry quietly sighed. "It's over."
"I know." Peter's voice was raspy. Harry couldn't figure out if it was because of overuse in the past few minutes, or non-use for the last several months. Maybe a mix of both. "You killed him, didn't you?"
"Voldemort?" Harry suppressed a roll of the eyes when Peter flinched and squeaked again, trembling anew. "No."
"But—m-my mark. . ."
Harry studied Peter in the silence to follow. Considering Peter's propensity to hide whenever things went south for him, it was entirely possible he hadn't seen any news of what all happened in the wizarding world since December fourth. Even if he'd sought out a newspaper or tried to eavesdrop on the locals, Peter likely couldn't comprehend or read Norwegian.
"Voldemort's been captured," Harry told Peter, eliciting another flinch. "So have the rest of the Death Eaters. You were the last one running free."
"Even Bellatrix?"
"Yes. She's back in Azkaban."
Peter sighed. "Good."
"I wouldn't get too excited," Harry said. "You'll be going there with her. Don't you realize? The things you've done. . ."
Harry's tongue clamped. He didn't want to list them off, and he didn't really think he had to. It might even be to their benefit that he not do so. There might be more Peter could admit to that they didn't know about. He would certainly be talking later, ready to give the Ministry anything and everything he could think of that might grant him some leniency.
"You're taking me in?" Peter asked.
"Well, yeah." The question took Harry aback. "We don't exactly operate the same way Voldemort does. You'll go before the Wizengamot, and they'll decide what's to be done."
"But. . ."
Harry furrowed his brow. Peter sounded confused. "Didn't you know I'm an Auror?"
Peter sniffled and shook his head. "No. I never heard. G—that's good. Good for you."
Those words rang hollow for Harry. Standing over Peter right now, Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was actually where he would've wound up were it not for this man. Who might he have been, were he raised by his parents? If Peter had never betrayed them, would Harry see this man like an uncle? Would he take Sunday dinners at a table with him, Sirius, and Remus, and listen to all the stories they had from a lifetime of fun? Would Harry have his own stories to tell, from when he'd grown old enough to become involved?
Harry tried to find sadness for that, or anger. There was nothing. Of course he felt robbed. He'd been robbed. Dwelling would've gotten him nowhere, and it wouldn't suit him to start now. A little voice in the back of his mind echoed his conversation from earlier with Draco. Was this healthy? Did it really matter at the moment?
"Get up," Harry told him. "We're due back in Britain. I'd like to get you booked in before dinner."
Peter started to cry again. Harry couldn't even find it in him to feel pity. This just was what it was: the end of a very long, hard-earned road. Peter probably never imagined that turning James and Lily Potter over to Voldemort would result in him being arrested by their son seventeen years later.
Harry restrained Peter with another spell, even though he doubted he'd try escaping. It was the cue Tonks and Draco took to come back over. Both studied Harry. It didn't bother him as much this time.
"We have a portkey that'll take us right back to the Ministry," Harry told Draco. "Did you want to come along, or are you finding your own way back to Britain?"
"I've got some things to do here." Draco folded his arms. "Things to grab from home, a shopping list from Dagmar, things like that."
"Okay." Harry nodded. "Thanks for your help today."
"Anytime." One end of Draco's mouth pulled up. The squint of his eyes transitioned to a narrow when Peter sniffled. "If Helka wants to go back to Malfoy Manor through the floo, I could take her as far as Den Sultne Jotunn?"
Harry asked Helka. She agreed to it, so Draco disapparated with her. Tonks brought a thin rope out of her pocket, tapped it with her wand, and held it out to Harry. To be on the safe side, Harry looped it around Peter's wrist before they too were off with a jerk of the navel and plummet of the stomach. When the world stopped whirling around them, they stood in the private portkey arrival area for Magical Enforcement.
Peter's knees started to shake as they walked down the corridor toward the Auror office. Harry would've liked more privacy for himself at the moment, but he felt apathetic at best that anyone he passed stopped to stare. Maybe they appreciated the moment in their own way, since Peter's arrest also meant that all the Death Eaters had successfully been rounded up. Every single one of them would now answer for the actions that destabilized the wizarding world for the last thirty years.
Similar silence fell over the Auror office. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch as Harry led him to the holding area. When Peter had been stymied and placed in one of the cells, Harry lifted his Holding Charm. He put his back between them as Peter started to cry again. Tonks was in the middle of walking Harry through how to fill out an arrest record when Kingsley found them. Peter let out a noise like a squeaked gulp.
"Well done," Kingsley said in a low voice. "If you'll bring me that form when you're finished, I'll arrange for Pettigrew to go to Azkaban tonight."
"All right." Harry nodded.
Kingsley folded his arms as he leaned against the wall beside them. "Feel free to take off early too, if you want."
"Cheers."
Harry definitely wouldn't mind that. On this side of it all, he wanted to see his friends more than anything. He wanted to see Pansy. Harry grew excited already to surprise her with an early visit. Hopefully she wasn't too busy to accomodate him.
Tonks read over the form when they were done. "That should do it. Want me to hand this off on my way back to my desk?"
"If you wouldn't mind." Harry sat up straight, stretching his spine. "See you tomorrow?"
She nudged him with a flashed grin. "Bright and early."
The Auror office had mostly returned to its normal noise level, although it looked like a lot of people were slacking off. They chatted with their cubicle neighbours, and Harry even saw a balled sheet of parchment projectile over a few heads.
Harry stilted, nearly to the exit. This wouldn't stay quiet, and Harry could think of one person he'd rather inform about Peter's arrest before whispers reached him first. Harry returned to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment:
Mr Diggory,
I hope this finds you well. I just wanted to inform you that Peter Pettigrew was arrested this afternoon. Kingsley is intent to send him to Azkaban tonight, where he will wait until a Wizengamot trial has been scheduled. Among the charges laid against him is Cedric's murder.
I'll be out of office for the rest of the day, returning tomorrow. If you would like to discuss anything, feel free to send me a note or to come find me.
Harry
Harry read it over a few times, augmenting a couple things to ensure it sufficed. This might actually be a more important day to Mr Diggory than it was to Harry.
He wrote another note to send off afterward, this one to Hermione telling her to come for a five o'clock dinner at Grimmauld Place. Harry ended up following the bewitched aeroplane to the lifts, although it got into a different one than he did. From the Atrium, Harry flooed to Diagon Alley.
At Madam Malkin's shop, he followed the low sound of Pansy's wireless into the back room. She hummed along with whatever played, glancing up. Her face brightened after she'd registered him.
"Merlin, is that already the time?" she asked, then glanced at the clock. "Oh, you're early. What gives? Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course."
"I know." Harry squeezed her shoulder before moving behind her chair. He felt her relax as he leaned down to put his arms around her. She turned her face toward him when he kissed her neck, her cheek catching the next one. He could feel her grin as they nuzzled each other after that.
"Good day?" she asked.
"Very."