12. The Tree of Life and Magic

Someone rapped on his door about fifteen minutes before Harry was supposed to show up for lunch. He was dressed in black slacks, a black shirt and a black tie with golden stripes. Dobby had made sure to press all his clothes to perfection. Harry didn't think he would be allowed to skimp on his attire in any way, and instead of being sent back to do it over like a disgruntled child, he made sure to do it properly the first time.

He was brushing his hair when the knock sounded, wishing that he had grown out his beard again. He liked his face better with it. Maybe he should give it a try again in the autumn. He wasn't going to ask if it was alright beforehand, it was his face after all, but he would have to be prepared for a negative reaction …

With brush in hand, he went to open the door, to find Astoria and Draco outside it.

"Soon finished, give me a moment," he said while turning around again.

"Actually, we hoped to have a few words with you before lunch. Nothing major," Astoria hurried on, "just a bit about what to expect at the Ministry and such."

Harry's stomach dropped. Here it comes, the lines to speak, the do and do-nots.

It even made sense that Astoria was the one to lay down the rules. It was damn hard to be angry, or even irritated, with Astoria. At least for long, and she was good at talking and explaining and appear harmless. Harry knew she was far from harmless. The last week had proven that it was she, and not Draco, that was Voldemort's closest lieutenant, even closer than the generation before them. She was brilliant, powerful and ambitious. She was perfect in the role, and she was perfect as the liaison between Harry and Voldemort, to smooth the waters, if one wanted them smooth. And apparently Voldemort did.

Harry gave up on his hair, took his robes down from the hook and put them on, buttoning down the golden buttons while not looking up.

"Alright, I'm listening."

"You will have three guards on you. Draco, myself and one more I will introduce you to before we go to lunch. Understand, it should be entirely safe, and we should be no more than a buffer between you and people. For crowd control. But if something happens; please trust us to do our job, do not get between us and the crowd, no matter what happens. Use shields, if necessary, but we are there as security, we are there to fight if required. Please do follow our lead, let us do our jobs and stay low and out of the way."

"I will certainly try," Harry said, because he couldn't promise. Not because he didn't want to, but because of his instinctive reflexes.

"Good. We will arrive by Floo, it should be entirely safe, but you and the Dark Lord will arrive in between the guards. Then there will be a walk through the Ministry, and we will see how the new Departments have been set up, both new as in never seen before and new as in old Departments done in new ways. There will be time to talk to the department workers and look around. The last half hour Lord Voldemort and Madam Bones will address the Heads of the different departments together …"

Astoria continued in the same manner for a while and when she finished with:

"Any questions, Harry?"

She hadn't mentioned what Harry specifically was supposed to say and do, even once. Just that he was supposed to stay by Voldemort's side during the visit and the speeches and the toasts. A silent puppet then, he could deal with that, better than the alternative.

"No … well …" He studied Astoria for a moment.

She was resplendent in dark blue robes made of silk with silver buttons and details. Her inner robe had tight sleeves and bust with a flowing skirt, while an open and more voluminous cloak billowed around her when she moved. Her hair was bound in silver and all her jewellery was silver and sapphires. It was actually understated, despite the jewellery, and very elegant. But she also didn't have a glamour and now that she was dressed up, it was more noticeable than usual. Her face was thin and unhealthy pale, not for lack of food, but sleep and rest and peace, and there were burns on her fingertips and a small scar by her lower lip dragged at it slightly. There were numerous pale dots on her throat. Harry couldn't guess if it was from a fire or a curse.

"No glamour today? Not that you don't look beautiful without it, because you do, but …"

Astoria hesitated and looked at Draco. A hint of an unfamiliar uncertainty in her face.

"If there is anyone who won't judge you, it's Harry," Draco said with conviction and stroked her arm soothingly. "Only if you wish, of course."

"Yes, I didn't mean to bring up anything painful," Harry said, because it was obvious that he had stumbled upon something potentially painful, and that had not been his intention. He should have known better, of course.

But Astoria was looking at him again with a determined expression on her face.

"I could say that I don't have any glamour today because everyone has been marked by the war and I'm no different, and not afraid to show it, but … that would be a lie. I'm wearing a glamour; I'm always wearing a glamour. Just less of it now than at the wedding." She swallowed hard. "I was hit with a curse, two years ago. Draco managed to save my life and the Dark Lord managed to reverse the curse enough to give me the chance of a normal life. But it was a nasty transfiguration curse, not a clean transfiguration, you see, but something a lot darker." She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

Harry felt her remove her glamour, but couldn't see what she had hidden, not at first. Then she opened her eyes again and Harry looked into eyes even paler blue than before, with pupils like those of a cat. Astoria wet her bottom lip and he could see the tip of a split tongue, then she turned her head, and a pattern in black and gold was visible there, spilling across her temple, down to her jaw and further down her throat and back into her hair. The same pattern could be seen on her hands.

No, not the pupils like those of a cat.

A snake.

Harry smiled. "Did you get to keep the fangs?"

Astoria scrunched up her nose. "No, unfortunately, it would be hard to eat with them."

"Is this why you are so fascinated with snakes?"

"I guess? I have always liked them, but it might have gotten a bit more … intense after the curse."

"If I may ask; except for the look, did anything change? Did Voldemort manage to turn you back to a fully functioning human?"

"Mostly. I really …" she stopped and looked away and her face heated, "I really like fresh meat. Like, really like it, really fresh. And I'm not happy in the cold, not quite sluggish, but more … snappish, I suppose. On a positive note, the new snake blood in me dissolved another curse that I, just about then, had started to feel the effects off. A blood malediction that was placed upon one of my ancestors. It's gone now, no trace of it; it probably didn't like the snake blood. So, while I now do prefer my meat fresh and bloody, it's likely that I will live a longer life then I earlier could have hoped for, probably a healthier one too."

"That's good. I hope your husband remembers to tell you that you are beautiful, both with the glamour on, and without it." Harry sent a glance towards Draco.

"Of course I remember, Potter!" Draco snapped. "Don't be an idiot if you can help it!"

"You do have trouble with snakes," Harry stated.

"Mostly because I have nightmares about the hours Astoria spent … The hours before the Dark Lord could help her change back." Draco swallowed hard.

"I don't remember any of that," Astoria whispered and gripped Draco's hand.

"You are right, my apologies, Draco, I shouldn't have said that. I'm truly sorry."

Draco shuddered before looking at him again. "It's alright. But don't joke about it, please, ever. Not to me, though Astoria sometimes wants to laugh about it."

"It's either laugh about it, or scream," she gave a little shrug.

"I know the feeling. I'm up for laughing about it, if you want someone to laugh with."

"Thanks. Are you ready to eat? I must say you clean up very nicely."

"Thank you. I can't really say the same, as you always look very nice, but maybe; you look extra stunning today, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"That will do, Mr. Potter, that will do. Now, let me introduce you to your last guard." She opened the door out to the hallway and Harry saw the man standing there, waiting, and felt his face harden.

"Harry, this is Germain Bandini. Mr. Bandini, this is Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's consort. You have met already, I believe?"

"Yes, we have met," Harry bit out. "Please tell me you weren't in on the scheme when we met at the hospital, Mr. Bandini."

Because if he had been, it had been a masterful stroke. Informing Harry about the slaughter of children the same day Harry got the Ministries suggestion for a peace treaty through marriage to Voldemort. Making sure that Harry was aware of the atrocities, and pretty much placing him in a corner.

Bandini bowed towards Harry. "I was not part of any scheme, Mr. Potter, not that I'm aware of. Oberon was very close to death that day and you undoubtedly helped save his life, and I would never, not for anyone, risk my son's life." His voice trembled. Black eyes met Harry's. "If you cannot believe anything about me, do believe that. I would rather die a thousand times than let my son suffer for as much as a second."

"Alright, but how did you suddenly become a messenger when I most needed it?"

"Some luck, some work. I was there to hear your rant and take Miss Granger's note, and I knew that it was something worth passing on. After leaving the hospital with my family and getting them home, I went through the Death Eater ranks until someone showed me to Mrs. Astoria Malfoy. From then on, the messages were easily conveyed between you and the Dark Lord. As I already was somewhat known to you, I kept the role as messenger."

Harry nodded. He had good reasons to be suspicious, but the story Bandini told was a good one.

"Good, then. I'm making us late."

People had found their places at the table, but not started to eat, and even with the older Malfoys, Snape, Bandini and a man Harry unfortunately was able to identify as Rabastan Lestrange at the table, two spaces were between Harry and Bandini to his right. Astoria sat across from Harry with Draco at her side. She didn't put on her glamour again, before after sitting down, and apparently Lestrange hadn't seen her extraordinary features before, because he kept sending her long glances, with hard, black eyes.

Nagini lay at Harry's feet with her head in his lap and after the fourth time Harry saw Lestrange's disgusted look, he put a hand on Nagini's head.

"Nagini, unless your Master opposes my suggestion, would you give Lestrange a really good look at a beautiful snake? He keeps staring at Astoria like she is a specimen he wants to cut open and study."

"If it pleases you both, by all means do," Voldemort said without looking up from his plate. Harry swore he could hear a smirk. "All I ask is that no one dies. I do not want to wait for a new guard to be found."

"And maybe say hello to Astoria, too? She does so admire you." Harry looked at Voldemort who still didn't look up, and didn't protest.

"Lestrange does not like Nagini, not like Astoria does," Nagini hissed.

"Alright, then maybe you just can let Astoria admire you and pet you for a bit? It's one thing to be admired for one's beauty and fierceness, as you are, and another to be gawked at for being different."

Or possibly thought of as a creature that doesn't have the right to live, Harry added silently. So many pure-bloods had enormous prejudices towards anyone not purely and completely human.

Things happened so fast, Harry sat blinking even after Nagini had curled partly up into Astoria's lap and had Astoria cooing over her and petting her. Lestrange lay on the floor on a broken chair, the chair legs crushed by Nagini's powerful coils. He was pale green, because for a moment he had had Nagini up in his face, hissing, before she had gone to get her due from Astoria.

"You do have a talent for manipulating my familiar, Harry," Voldemort commented to his plate. He was dressed in a well-tailored black and silver robe with a glamour that left him looking completely human, just sans hair. Aristocratic nose, high cheekbones, full lips and an even, if pale, complexion. Harry couldn't help himself, he thought Voldemort looked good, unfortunately.

Not that he ever, ever, would say that out loud.

"No one got truly hurt, and Lestrange might reconsider gawking at someone that looks unusual. The war left a lot of people with many different scars. Gawking at them won't help them get back to their lives. Besides, you could easily have stopped it, if you so wished."

"Indeed, I could have."

They left for the Ministry not long after.

They arrived in the Atrium where the big, ugly fountain were no more, and they were anything but alone. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had been this surrounded by witches and wizards, when he wasn't in a fight. There seemed to be a lot more people than at his wedding, or they were clustered tighter together and gave that impression at least. Bandini was in front of Harry, Astoria to his right and Draco behind him. Voldemort was to his left and Harry brushed up against him, but that was better than being closer to any of the staring, glaring, shouting faces around them. And there were many.

And there were the cameras and the reporters, too. Wonderful.

Harry ground his teeth, tried to breathe deeply and decided to simply … endure. Endure the cameras and the reporters, endure the ugly grimaces and words that were hissed when people thought it was safe for them to say the words and the threats. Endure the closeness to the people around him, Voldemort and the guards. Endure the noise and the frenetic activity as they slowly moved away from the fireplaces. Harry hadn't been informed that there would be other guards in the crowd, but it soon became apparent that there were. Both Death Eaters and Aurors removed the people that shouted threats. Apparently, the security hadn't been tight enough.

Next to him, Astoria cast a shield between Harry and a stream of orange light, and then she threw an Incarcerous at the witch that had cast the nasty hex.

"Thanks, but what happened to that security you mentioned?" Harry asked. He wasn't surprised that people had managed to slip in, this was quite the occasion and the first time people knew where both Harry and Voldemort were going to be, at once. There would be attacks. The only question was how bad they would be.

"Believe me, when I figure out who let this happen, someone is going to bleed!" Astoria huffed and lowered her wand a bit.

Harry snorted. "People are going to be people, always. If it was a completely closed event, be sure that someone would have snuck down the chimney or something equally ridiculous. There was a time a "fan" of mine joined the Order of the Pheonix to get close to me; he decided to more or less jump me at a meeting."

"You got to be kidding!"

"Nope, I was just glad that it was at a meeting, and you know … not in battle."

Astoria almost gaped. "Are you alright, with this, I mean? This isn't like I told you it would be."

"I'm not happy, but I'm alright. Then again, I did see this coming." He gave her a smirk and she smiled back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Voldemort silently observe them.

They stopped at the place the fountain once had been. There was a tree there now, living, big and green. In the branches Harry could glimpse small animals, pixies, cats, owls and objects like wands, grimoires, potion bottles, cauldrons, pointed hats, a broom, rolls of parchment and quills. The objects were hanging like strange fruit and the living creatures seemed to be moving around of their own free will.

"I like this a lot better than the fountain. Magic is life, shifting and changing, not unmoving stone."

"I agree. I did not believe I would like it, too chaotic for my taste, but I do." Voldemort's voice was low and again Harry realised how close Voldemort was, they were almost shoulder to shoulder, and he wasn't bothered by it. He didn't find his proximity any more constricting or threatening than that of Astoria or Draco.

"I'm glad to hear it, as I know my husband put a lot of thought into it." The voice made Harry turn slightly to his right and there, between Bandini and Astoria, he saw a face he never thought he would see again.

"Susan, Susan Bones?" he whispered.

She smiled at him. No longer the teenage girl from Dumbledore's Army but a grown woman with quite a bit of life behind her. Her red hair cascaded down her back, and she looked serious in black and red Auror robes, but her warm, brown eyes shone.

"Hello Harry, or should I say Mr. Potter?"

"Harry is fine, just fine. How … where … how?!" The last he knew of her; she had been fighting with the Order of the Phoenix. Then he didn't hear anymore, and he assumed that she had been taken down, like so many others. He always felt that he should have found out the truth, should have been sure, but he simply didn't have the capacity to find out.

"My aunt decided she had lost enough family and had me kidnapped with my husband and son. I have spent the last few years in Canada. I would have come back to fight, but Gavril, my husband, gave me an ultimatum. Fight in the war that had killed everyone in my family, or keep the family I had made for myself. I came back last week. Gavril and the children won't get here until we are sure that the peace truly sticks. My husband doesn't know you, Harry, or how stubborn you can be. But I do, so I came back and brought with me Gavril's work for the Atrium." She made a gesture at the tree. "The Tree of Life and Magic. Not a terribly original title, but apt. Let me show you."

Susan went up to the tree, reached for a potion bottle that hung on a low branch and plucked it. While she held it in her hand, Harry saw a new potion bottle grow out of the branch.

"Not everything can be plucked, but the smaller items can. The grimoire book becomes a notebook when picked. One person can only pick things three times a week."

Harry could feel himself smile, really smile, for the first time in so long.

"Sometimes I forget why I love magic, and then I get a truly magical reminder. I like the tree even better now."

Susan glowed under the praise. "It is a real, top grade potion bottle. This one is crystal, not glass. Would you like it, Professor Snape?"

"It's Mr. Snape now, and thank you, Mrs. Bones …?" Snape said quietly when Susan handed him the bottle. There was a question when he said her name.

"Oh yes, I kept my name. There aren't many Bones's left, and Gavril has a big family. The children are all Bones' too."

"It was so good to see you, Susan," Harry said, reluctantly, "but we have this whole tour planned, and I'm holding everyone up."

"I'm joining the tour, if no one in your group objects. I will take the position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement, at least I hope so, in a few days. I'm on probation until the new leadership will be able to start making things official. I might be completely new as a leader of a department, but I do have proof of my finished apprenticeship as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic in Canada, and my barrister certificate, both for magical courts and for the Muggle courts, just to be on the safe side."

"You did decidedly not sit on your hands when in Canada," Harry said dryly.

"I might be a Hufflepuff, but I'm also a Bones. The war had to end at some point, and then I would be back to help. And now I am."

"And we are very glad to have you, Mrs. Bones," Astoria said when they stopped by the elevators and waited for them to come up.

"Susan," Harry took a step, so he stood directly in front of Voldemort when Susan looked at him. "Are you really alright with this situation, and your position in it? I remember your boggart …"

Susan took a deep breath, let it out and held his gaze. "The war needed to end, Harry, everything else is secondary to that. I'm not … thrilled, but I will learn to live with it, just like you and everyone else. Besides, I have three children now, I'm sure my worst fear has changed. Not that I have faced a boggart to find out, mind you."

Harry nodded at her and entered the elevator while Susan turned to take another.

The doors closed and Astoria looked carefully at Harry and said in a low voice, that the whole elevator nonetheless could hear, because of the cramped space.

"Her boggart? Is this something I should know about?"

Harry hesitated. "You probably do already. I'm married to the man who pretty much murdered Susan's entire family and tried very hard to murder her aunt before it became open war."

Astoria winced. "And that is the witch we want as Head of Magical Law Enforcement?" She scowled at Lucius Malfoy.

"It is," Voldemort said calmly. "She told you why, herself. She wants to help build up our society again, and she has knowledge and skills that will be needed. Besides, if we only want to work with people that have not lost anyone to me or my forces during the war …"

"Then we have to exclude half the possible workforce, if not more. You are right, of course, my Lord." Astoria turned towards the elevator doors again. "Coalition and cooperation, or failure; those are our choices."

"And failure is not an option," Voldemort said.

"No, my Lord, it is not." Astoria straightened her shoulders.

Harry noticed Lestrange had a nasty grin on his face. It rubbed him the wrong way, but then, pretty much everything Lestrange did rubbed him the wrong way.

"Find anything funny with the conversation?" he asked.

"The little Hufflepuff girl was so earnest, and then her worst fear is her new leader, that she will bow to, willingly." Lestrange came with a wheezing laughter.

"You think fear and loss is funny? What about this; you might remember the night when some of Susan's family died, maybe all of them for all I know, including the night she almost lost her aunt. But I remember the look on your brother's face while he died, in pain and fear. It took hours. He pissed me off, the sick fuck.

"So, for the sake of the peace we want, or at least I do, and your Lord does too, let us pretend that there is nothing funny with other people's fear and loss and pain. Let us pretend to care for the witch and wizard next to us, no matter who they are, and pretend hard enough and long enough that we end up believing it, or are able to live like it is true, regardless. Or this peace is going to Hell in a handbasket."

Lestrange's face was drawn in a snarl, but both Snape and Lucius had a hand on his shoulders, holding him still. Harry looked away and watched Voldemort out of the corner of his eye. He no longer expected a Cruciatus every time he opened his mouth, but he half expected it this time, or a less serious curse. His tone of voice alone was bad enough; what he had said to one of Voldemort's oldest and most staunch supporters just made it worse, and to top it off; Harry had admitted to killing Rodolphus Lestrange.

The elevator was silent except for Lestrange's harsh breathing.

"Hell in a handbasket?" Astoria asked into the silence.

"A Muggle expression," Voldemort said surprisingly conversationally. "It usually implies that something is doomed. And I do not wish this peace to be doomed." His tone hardened and he turned towards Lestrange. "Let me make myself utterly clear, Rabastan. You are to follow Harry's advice to the fullest extent of your abilities. I do not particularly care what goes on in your own mind, but you will hereafter show no joy or delight in other people's pain. Not magical individuals, not Muggles, nor any kind of mix of the two, for any reason. Ever. Mrs. Bones and Harry have the right of it; if we want to survive and hopefully flourish, we keep the past in the past. Or at the very least, do not enjoy the memories of the pain and bloodshed in public. Have I made myself understood?"

Lestrange fell to his knees and bowed his head. "Yes, my Lord. It will not happen again, my Lord."

"See that it does not."

Finally, the doors pinged and opened, and the proper tour could begin.

A/N:

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