A/N:

PLEASE READ THE END NOTES!

Also, thank you so very much for the comments! I love it! It gives me great joy to know that you like the story, my characters and the smut I come up with. It won't be long until next time. ;p

Because of real life, I will not always be able to post a new chapter on Wednesdays. I will do my best to post every week, but it might be on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursdays.

42. Package Deal

Voldemort grumbled over the insane amount of evidence Miss Granger had been able to procure, but he appreciated it, nevertheless. This way, they would be certain who she had gotten, why, how and how very, very guilty of the horrible atrocities they were. Even if it took him the rest of the night to get through the paperwork alone. Scroll after scroll, and even a few Muggle notebooks, filled with notes, dates, plans, sketches of places and people she had seen in connection to the child-murderers. He was almost glad that he was already raging on the inside and that he in truth could not get any more incensed. And he was most definitely grateful that Harry hadn't woken when he left him in the bed. Harry had been in shock and needed the rest, because the coming day would be more of the same. More shock, more rage, more disbelief. And more grief.

Voldemort didn't find it surprising that Harry needed to not think about the whole debacle for a while. The shock alone would have made thinking hard. Voldemort himself had only felt rage when he saw the names of people from the Dark faction on the list of culprits. They hadn't been Marked, so he hadn't been able to keep a close watch on them. He hoped they knew how extremely long it would take for them to die, and that they already were terrified because of it. Because they should be. He had done horrible things to people that had done much less than these idiots.

He now also suspected that Miss Granger had killed Remus Lupin not so much because he refused to let her take him alive, but because she knew what awaited him in Voldemort's care if he was taken alive. He believed he would find better clues to the truth of that speculation in the vials of memories Miss Granger also had left with the evidence. The Auror's had copied everything before taking the originals to the Ministry, even the memory vials.

Harry's wish for distraction had not been entirely unexpected. His wish for sex to be that distraction had been, but not undesirable. Far from it. The first round of sex, right after the application of the blood runes, had been followed by a light dinner and two hours where they calmed Harry's aggressive soul shard, followed by another round of rather amazing sex. Fantastic fucking, as Harry had so aptly put it.

Harry hadn't been the least bit timid this time. Harry had in fact touched him, caressed him, rubbed against him and gotten a full erection long before they reached the bed. Harry had been comfortable in the situation, even more direct than last time and so very eager. More than willing to indulge Voldemort and beg for what he wanted. And Harry had begged so prettily, so passionately, that if he ever invited Voldemort to bed again, Voldemort didn't doubt that his answer would be yes. Just for the mere chance to see Harry squirm and plead under him again and look at him with big, desperate eyes.

At the end of the night Harry had been calm, he had felt safe, and he had fallen asleep in Voldemort's arms. Voldemort had actually fallen asleep himself, for a couple of hours, in bed with Harry next to him.

During his reading of Miss Granger's notes, it quickly became obvious that Remus Lupin had been the mastermind behind the group. He had been the planner, the tactician, and the burning rage behind them all. Remus Lupin, and every single one of his associates, had lost a child, or more, to the war. That was what had united them. Their loss, their grief and their rage. Their madness, because killing children because you yourself had lost a child could never be anything but madness. Remus Lupin had been strong, knowledgeable, capable and utterly insane with loss.

It was not an excuse and could never be an excuse, and if Voldemort had had the man in front of him, he would have used days, if not weeks and months, to kill him. To take him apart, bit by bit. What it was, however, was a reason. And Remus Lupin was hardly alone in having broken under loss and grief during the war.

There were quite a few people that had broken in the war, and more than a few that had ended their life in some battle by running in front of deadly curses. Others had contacted Severus or other potioners and begged for release, for peace. Some had been within reach of what help they could give in the middle of a war.

Others had not.

In the early hours of the morning there was a knock on his door.

"Enter!"

Astoria opened the door, came to stand in front of his desk and bowed low. Obviously his second in command now, and not his housemate.

"Do you have anything to add to the reports, Astoria?" he asked and made a gesture at a chair in front of his desk.

"Yes, my Lord. There is one occurrence of import that I thought it best to report immediately, despite the late, or early, hour. While discussing the new development and the prisoners with the Head of DMLE, I was … informed that she, Susan Bones, had just survived an assault, the last of four such assaults. All committed by Madam Amelia Bones, who now considers her niece a traitor and seems to want her dead.

"Madam Bones has been sent to St. Mungos under guard, for the Healers to ascertain if she is mentally fit to stand on trial, or not. I put Blaise Zabini as our interim Ministry Leader. I believe he is the best suited, for now, but also that someone known to be Light would do better in the long run, for the sake of the balance in the Ministry leadership. Just as we discussed before you offered Madam Bones the position, my Lord."

Voldemort stiffened while he took in all the new information, and then cursed silently in his head and let his glamour fall to at least be able to show some of his rage, while he at the same time strengthened his Occlumency shields and the door towards the mind bridge. He knew he had the appearance from his resurrection. And here he had been under the mistaken belief that he actually couldn't get any more incensed than he already had been. He had known, almost from the beginning, that Madam Bones would not hold her position for long. But as she had a lot of experience with leadership in the Ministry, was a known Light witch and a fierce fighter, he had hoped she would have lasted a bit longer than this.

Another broken person, who took their pain out on innocents.

If their society were to have any chance to heal after this war, they needed Mind Healers, and a lot of them. For the youngest first, as they were the future, but everyone needed them. He made a note to look into sending more willing magicals out of the country to get certified in Mind Healing as fast as possible, and to again see if it was possible to get teachers and practitioners into the country. There were some months since they first had made the inquiry, and every month that the peace held and their rebuilding continued, should help prove that they were serious in their claims about wanting peace.

"Zabini will do for now," Voldemort said in a low voice, a small hiss to his words revealed how furious he was. "Tell him that he will have the position until the end of January next year, at the very least. But tell him tomorrow, or more to the point, later today. You have worked diligently through the night, Astoria and done a remarkable job. Now, go to bed."

"Thank you, my Lord." Astoria got up, bowed and left.

Voldemort used the morning to go through the memories Miss Granger had left as evidence. She had been swift and utterly ruthless when apprehending the culprits. Most of the culprits had had no idea what was happening before it was too late, and whatever she did stopped them from performing suicide, if that was something they generally did when captured and not only when they went on their revolting raids.

Voldemort saw Miss Granger fight with Lupin and he saw how spectacularly outclassed the older man was against the battle-hardened witch. He saw how fast she cast her spell-links, most of them curses, all of them silent and quite a few of them wandless. He saw how many that hit their target, and how quickly she herself dodged and wove around the curses Lupin sent back. He was no longer in doubt; she was playing with Lupin, like a cat with a mouse. Even if Lupin was one of the better fighters in his group, he was severely outdone by the witch. That Miss Granger killed the bastard was a choice she most likely made deliberately.

Voldemort had seen Miss Granger fight on the battlefield before. Mostly back-to-back with Harry, but getting the chance to really take it all in now … It was like she was dancing, and it was effortless, as easy as breathing. And when she sent that last curse, the curse that Lupin couldn't dodge or shield from, there was nothing in her one functioning eye. No glee, no anger, no regret, just nothing. She had shut herself off for the fight and she had done it masterfully.

There was no wonder Harry and Miss Granger combined had been feared on the battlefield. No wonder Astoria in the later years had made a case for getting out of their way, if at all possible, if the two of them entered a battlefield where they hadn't planned for them. Miss Granger alone was just as much a master duellist as Harry was. The two of them together would be more like a force of nature; powerful and unyielding, magnificent and deadly.

It was no longer early morning, and he was making his own notes on the whole incident when he heard low hissing through all the open doors between his own study and Harry's bedroom. He had left Nagini with Harry so she could come get him if Harry seemed to have a nightmare. She hadn't come for him once during the night, which was strange, as he knew that Harry often had several nightmares every night that he didn't take Dreamless Sleep. Now Nagini slithered through the open door and right up to him with great speed. Even after so many years, her speed could surprise him, as she didn't use it often. She greatly preferred lazing in front of the fire or sunning herself on a warm rock.

"Yes, my dear?" he hissed at her, putting down his book.

"The young consort is awake," she pronounced.

"Very well, let us go talk to him and see if he would like something to eat. There is much to do today, but I would rather he was with me than on his own." He got up and began to find his way through the doors towards Harry's bedroom. He made sure to use his glamour before he had gone many steps, he was still angry and Harry did most decidedly not need anything more to upset him right now.

"Master, the young consort smells of pain and exhaustion. Did you not make him happy last night? Are you not a good mate?"

It took him a moment to infer what she meant, and then he dearly wanted to run his hands over his face and groan. This was all he needed, her impertinent little nose, or tongue, in his, and Harry's, personal life. But then again, nothing was truly private with Nagini around.

"Oh, shush you," he hissed.

"My Master should be a good mate for the young consort. You should ask for help and learn to be a good mate and make him happy, if you cannot do so on your own."

Voldemort knocked on the half open door into Harry's bedroom and hoped Harry hadn't heard Nagini's proclamation, but after he was told to enter and met his husband's laughing eyes, he knew he wasn't so lucky. He was grateful that he couldn't blush, because this might very well have done it.

"Nagini, I thank you for your consideration, but being good mates to each other is something Voldemort and I will have to figure out on our own," Harry said, surprisingly diplomatic.

Voldemort gave him a nod in thanks, but didn't meet his eyes. His lower stomach clenched with desire as it almost always did when he heard Harry speak in Parseltongue. Speaking to snakes never stirred him in the least, but Harry was another matter entirely.

"The young consort wants to be a good mate to my Master?" Nagini hissed and hoisted herself up on the bed to curl loosely around where Harry sat before bumping her head against his hand in a demand for pets.

"I believe he tries, so I feel that it's only fair if I try too." Harry obediently began to run his hand down Nagini's head and neck, only heightening the appeal he had in Voldemort's eyes.

The man was dangerous, and Voldemort's mind was entirely in the gutter this morning. Voldemort suspected that the sexual activity the night before was to blame. It didn't make it better, or easier. At least Harry couldn't smell his arousal, there was some comfort in that.

"I do wonder, though, about your designation for me, Nagini. Why am I the young consort? Is it simply because I'm the youngest of us, or were there ever another consort that would be the older consort? If you don't mind me asking?" Harry looked at Voldemort, who shook his head. He didn't know why Nagini called Harry 'young consort'. Voldemort felt it suited because Harry was younger than him and he was his consort, but he couldn't say what went on in Nagini's snaky, little brain.

"You are younger than the Master and you are his consort, his mate," Nagini hissed. "Is it wrong to name you so? Should I call you Master's mate instead?"

Harry almost choked for a moment. "No, no thank you. Young consort works just fine. I was simply curious."

Harry petted Nagini and made her hiss in pleasure before he looked up at Voldemort.

"I guess there is a lot to do for you today?"

"Yes, there is, even more than I knew when we last spoke."

Harry quirked an eyebrow and Voldemort recounted Astoria's rapport from the early morning about Madam Bones' attack on her niece and Blaise Zabini's temporary position. He saw Harry's green eyes darken and his face grew hard.

"But Susan is alright now?" he asked in the end.

"As far as Astoria knew, yes, she is fine. Harry, would you accompany me to the Ministry today?"

"Why?" There was some suspicion in his husband's voice, and since Harry hadn't opened the door to their mind bridge, Voldemort couldn't know for certain why he felt that way, but he could guess. Slowly Voldemort sat down at the foot of the bed, as far as possible from Harry, but he no longer stood over him, and he hoped that would help. Nagini slithered closer to him and made sure she could be petted by both of them at once. They dutifully petted.

"Because you were very distraught last night, Harry, and I do not wish to leave you alone here when I know that you must still be upset."

"The young consort still smells of pain," Nagini said and flicked Harry on the cheek with her tongue.

"Mental pain, not physical," Harry inserted.

"That does not really make it better," Voldemort said with a low hiss.

Harry shrugged.

"Will you not accompany me today, my own? You do not have to do or say anything," Voldemort said, then he froze, just as Harry did.

Voldemort remembered the evening he had called Harry precious and had been told in no uncertain terms that Harry utterly abhorred any kind of endearment used on him. Voldemort wasn't one to normally use endearments, so he had never thought it would be any kind of problem, but now …

And where, by Hecate, had 'my own' come from? He knew that he generally was possessive, and that he probably was more possessive of Harry than was healthy, but he also knew the boundaries and he strictly kept to them so as to not push Harry away. Now he had called his husband 'my own', and the words had slipped out from nowhere. He was certain he never even had thought of them, and still, he liked the sound of them. Harry was his.

His. His husband. His Horcrux. His consort. His mystery. His equal. His.

Mine.

"Now the young consort smells of fear," Nagini grumbled and nipped irritably at Voldemort's hand. As if Voldemort couldn't smell it himself when he opened his mouth and let air spill over his tongue. As if he couldn't see it in Harry's frozen figure.

Both of them ignored her.

Harry sat completely still, breathing shallowly, watching him, as if he was waiting for something. When nothing happened, when Voldemort didn't say anything more, Harry drew a deep breath and let it shakily out while blinking several times. Then he cocked his head to the side and examined Voldemort deliberately, thoroughly. His breath found a slow, regular rhythm again. He furrowed his brows in thought.

"Alright, that is an … acceptable endearment, in private," Harry said after long moments in silence.

Voldemort nodded slowly.

"I had not planned to use it," he admitted, because he owed Harry that much.

"I guessed as much. You appeared to be shocked. I'm your husband, but I'm also my own person." Harry seemed to be more asking than telling, and Voldemort remembered how Harry in the beginning had feared that he would not be allowed to have his own life and make his own decisions. How he had feared to become a puppet without any choice at all.

"I know that, Harry, and I will never forget it, no matter what kind of endearments I use," Voldemort hurried to reassure him. "I give you my word."

Voldemort didn't want a slave, a prisoner, or a puppet. He had never wanted that, not truly, even though he at one point had expected Harry to simply follow his lead, at least publicly, and no more.

No, Voldemort wanted an equal, someone strong, someone to stand by his side and not in his shadow. He realised that now.

Voldemort wanted the warrior he had seen at the Battle of Hogsmeade. He wanted the leader that had taken command over Voldemort's own forces as if he was born to it. He wanted the sorcerer that used Fiendfyre without even considering how difficult and dangerous that curse was. He wanted the shapechanger and the Parselmouth. He also wanted the man that just last night had invited him to his bed and begged for his cock, before he let him pound him into the mattress. He wanted the man who had enjoyed every moment of it with him before he later had fallen asleep in his arms, snuggled against him as if he belonged there.

He wanted Harry.

Mine.

Harry swallowed hard and Voldemort guessed some of his thoughts and feelings could be seen in his face.

"Alright, I believe you," Harry whispered. "And I will come with you to the Ministry today. Do I have to be human? I'm … better, or at least somewhat over the worst of the shock, but I still need time to absorb it all. Being an animal allows me to keep some distance to the feelings while I at the same time can think through the facts."

"If you wish to be an animal while you join me at the Ministry, I have no problem with that." After all, Harry's shape changing ability was still new and very interesting. They had talked a bit about it since Harry revealed himself, and Voldemort had seen him in different shapes now and again, but it was still new.

Harry nodded at him, and a moment later there wasn't one, but two big snakes in Harry's bed. Nagini and Harry in the leaner shape of a black King Cobra, at least as long as Nagini, maybe even longer. Nagini looked at the new snake in the bed for a moment before scenting him, deciding it was Harry despite his new form, and cuddled in close, just as she had done the last two times Harry had changed to a snake in front of her. Voldemort had been right, she adored Harry even more now, knowing he could change his shape, even though Voldemort knew that she would have killed him without pause if Harry in fact had been another snake in her territory. She had done it before, when Voldemort hadn't prevented her from doing so.

Voldemort cursed his own thoughtlessness. Not only did he respond to the display of Harry's power, but he also responded to the shape Harry had taken, and now Harry could smell him. Smell his arousal.

Harry, the King Cobra, slithered up to him, scenting the air, but he didn't betray his thoughts by deed or word. Voldemort knew that he really, really shouldn't react like this to Harry, not when Harry for all intents and purposes was an actual snake right now. But he was also Voldemort's husband, and he was more cognisant than any ordinary snake. And the bloody man had apparently awoken a libido Voldemort couldn't ever remember having.

Voldemort gave a put-upon sigh and held out an arm for Harry to climb up, if he wished.

"Breakfast first, then we will leave for the Ministry. Nagini will have to share her rabbits with you."

Harry climbed up his arm and slipped around his neck as if he did it every day, his long body going around Voldemort's torso. The feeling of Harry's cool scales against skin made him shiver in pleasure.

"We will have small, plump rabbits," Nagini hissed happily. "Nagini will share with the young consort."

"Should I choose another shape?" Harry asked, close to his ear, his tongue flicking against Voldemort's skin. "I chose a snake because I will be able to communicate with you like this, but if it's … distracting for you …"

It did actually sound like he cared, and not as if he was silently laughing at Voldemort's expense. But he also had a point, it wasn't like Voldemort could communicate with him if Harry was a dog or a cat or anything else but a snake. Silently Voldemort decided to use an old impotence curse on himself for the day. It would get truly awkward otherwise, and the curse was safe to use as it had been used on suitors in times past, when there hadn't been a chaperon close by. It would have to do for the day.

"No, you are correct. If you are comfortable, then stay like this. I … apologise … for my reaction."

Having an actual libido was exhausting. Who would ever have thought it? Having a healed soul, a working mind and a functioning body for the first time in his adult life most certainly came with some revelations.

"And I still don't care about that, Voldemort. I guess I will have to tell you about my own less than ordinary buttons at some point, for you to believe me. I only asked because I don't want to make the day harder than it already will be, not because I was bothered by it myself. Call me weird, but as long as it isn't deliberately pushed in my face, I find such reactions … flattering. And no, I don't count seeing or smelling arousal as something that is being deliberately pushed in my face. That is a natural response that you can't prevent."

Voldemort hesitated for a moment, thinking through Harry's words. Harry obviously didn't find Voldemort's quiet fixation degrading or insulting, and he was fully aware of said fixation. Voldemort thought that the fact that his reactions to Harry was involuntary when he always had had perfect control of himself before, might be half of his problem.

"Very well," he said in the end.

Three plump baby rabbits later, two for the larger Nagini and one for the slenderer Harry, and one breakfast for a mostly human male, they left for the Ministry. Nagini joined them to keep Harry company in case Harry wanted to leave Voldemort's side.

A lot of people eyed the black snake around Voldemort's shoulders, but few made any comment. Except Astoria who approached to pet and coo over both snakes, even if she was one of few that probably guessed that the new snake was Harry. Harry let himself be petted twice by her before he retreated back to Voldemort's neck.

Harry kept quiet during the day, not asking any questions, and not making any move to go out on his own, or even move away from Voldemort. He surprised Voldemort the first time he slipped down into his lap during a meeting and silently bumped his hand in a demand for pets. Voldemort, who was so used to Nagini doing the same, petted his snake husband for several minutes before he realised that he was in fact petting his husband. His still quite skittish husband who only sought out physical contact in very specific circumstances. Being a snake apparently made it easier for him to want not only physical contact by being around Voldemort's shoulders, but also more direct contact by being caressed, at least by Voldemort.

The only question Harry asked the entire day was about the term Ministry Leader, after the meeting with Blaise Zabini, an old classmate of Draco that had been chosen by Astoria as the interim Ministry Leader after Madam Bones had failed so spectacularly.

"Why Ministry Leader?" Harry asked with a hiss. "I am sure that the correct term for the position is Minister? Or at least it was at some point."

"The Minister for Magic is traditionally known to be the single person with the most political power in magical Britain," Voldemort answered. "While I do want to have a person that leads the institution that is our Ministry, I would not like that person to be perceived as the person with the most political power in our government. That might give the wrong impression and thus lead to problems later on."

"Because you are the person with the most power, political, magical or otherwise, in magical Britain, and you don't share," Harry stated.

"Precisely," Voldemort admitted, even while wondering if that, strictly speaking, were true anymore. He wouldn't give up his power, no, never that, but he wondered if he, maybe, wasn't as averse to sharing as he once had thought he always would be. With the right person, of course, if that person wanted it.

It was late in the evening that day, after the soul shard had been calmed and Harry had gone for a swim in the warm pool in the new conservatory, that there was a knock on the door into Voldemort's rooms. He got up from his chair by the fire and opened the door, only to look down at his husband. A husband who looked more anxious than he usually did after time spent on physical activity. Big, green eyes met his and while the mental doors between them still were closely shut, as they had been since the painful shock the previous evening, Voldemort could see both fear and hope in those eyes.

"Do you have a moment? I wanted to ask you something."

Voldemort stepped away from the door and made a welcoming gesture, not commenting on the fact that this was the first time Harry had ever entered his rooms. Voldemort had put Harry in his own bed once, but that was hardly the same.

Harry didn't sit and it looked like he dearly wanted to pace, but he made himself a rigid statue in the middle of the floor and Voldemort knew that there was fear, real fear, in his husband right now. He could scent it in the air without really trying. It tasted sour. He didn't like it.

So, he sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, making sure to give Harry space and to not seem threatening. Harry really wanted this, more than anything else so far, that much was obvious. And Voldemort could only think of one thing, one person, that mattered enough for Harry to get this anxious about it. Voldemort knew what his answer would be, there truly was only one answer he could give now, but that didn't mean that he wasn't apprehensive about it. It risked changing everything, and he was both possessive enough and selfish enough not to want things between them to change.

"What did you want to ask about?" Voldemort said in a low voice. He didn't quite know what he did to put silk or velvet in his voice, as Harry described it, but now he tried for silky, as that often seemed to calm Harry down.

Harry swallowed, looked away and then back at him. "As far as I know, you have had no problem with me going out to meet people, build houses or hold classes." He stopped.

"I have had no problem with that at all, no," Voldemort assured.

"I would like to get in contact with Hermi, and keep in contact. If … if she would be safe." Harry's voice got hoarse, and his hands actually shook before he hid them behind his back. "She needs to be safe."

He said it as if he told Voldemort that Miss Granger needed air to breathe. Harry needed Miss Granger to be safe, and if Voldemort couldn't guarantee her safety, Harry would make certain that Miss Granger continued to stay away. Even if that would hurt both of them.

Slowly Voldemort got to his feet. "If you would follow me, Harry." He led the way out the door and Harry hurriedly came up to walk beside him. "The twelve days of Yule are very demanding, and they are soon to commence. I would ask that you wait until they are past. We celebrate from the 20th to the 31st of December. After that, you are very welcome to ask Miss Granger to come to visit, or meet her at another place, if that will suit the two of you better, and if you have guards. I will not change my mind regarding your guards anytime soon.

"Miss Granger will be safe, whether you meet at the Manor or anywhere else. If she attacks someone without provocation, there will be consequences, as there will be for everyone else, but other than that, she will be completely and utterly safe. Always."

Voldemort had stopped in front of a door on the opposite wall from his own and Harry's doors, almost right between their two suites. Now he opened the door and went inside. Harry followed him closely. The drawing room that met them was dark blue with bronze details, it had a big fireplace, big comfy chairs and a sofa filled with pillows and blankets in bronze and deep red and green. It had plush carpets on dark wooden floors and several paintings of oceans, mountains and forests. When they went further into the suite, they found a bedroom in dark crimson and gold, as well furnished as Harry's and Voldemort's own bedrooms. There was also a bathroom in silver, green and black, a big study in dark gold and black and a walk-in closet. The biggest difference between Harry's and Voldemort's rooms and these rooms, besides the colour scheme, was that this suite didn't have a balcony.

Voldemort hesitated but then said:

"You should know that before our marriage, but after you had accepted the offer, I was told, by three different people, and without asking for advice, I might add, that you and Miss Granger were an apparent package deal. I have always understood that I had to abide by that fact."

Harry stiffened, but didn't say anything.

"I did not do much with the wing before we married," Voldemort kept his voice low and mellow, watching Harry looking around in the suite. "All I did was change three suites, our two, and this one. I set it aside for Miss Granger, for when you would be comfortable with inviting her here. She is welcome to stay overnight, now and again, but maybe not the first few times. I would appreciate getting to know her somewhat before I have her right next to my own rooms at night, even if I rarely sleep."

Harry swallowed audibly and nodded without looking at him.

"She can come here on the first of January?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"She may do that, yes."

"And she will be safe while here, and free to leave when she wishes?"

"Yes, Harry, she will be both safe while here and free to leave."

"And I can crush anyone imbecilic enough to try to harm her while she visits?"

Voldemort couldn't contain a snort. "Can I stop you?"

"No, not if anyone hurts her. Of course, she might do it herself before I can react."

"That is fine then."

"And I may … I may send her letters in the meantime?" Harry's voice was thick.

"Of course you may."

Harry nodded, but didn't turn towards him. Voldemort thought he heard a small sob.

"I think … I think I will just stay here for a little while …" Now Harry's voice was obviously thick with tears.

"You know where to find me, if you wish to."

Harry nodded.

"Should I send Nagini to you?"

"That … yeah, thanks." Harry lifted a hand and Voldemort knew that he wiped away tears, but he didn't comment, he just silently left to get Nagini.

A/N:

PLEASE READ:

This chapter really, really did not want to get written. It fought me all the way and made my life quite miserable for several weeks. In the end I had to choose whether to post it as you now have read it, or let the fight kill my joy in writing this story. I chose the former, and the story survived, barely. As such, this chapter might not hold the standard that I have tried to keep the story to, and if you read it and now find yourself disappointed, please don't give my story up just yet. The next chapter was both fun and much, much easier to write.

Also, part of the problem was that my muse is absolutely done with the story arch with Remus Lupin and the child murderers, but I felt that I had to give it a bit more closure that just 'caught, killed and done'. This was the result. It's doubtful that I will come back to Lupin in any great way at a later point. My muse might surprise me, but I don't think she will.

Thank you so much for the comments, the favs and the follows! They are much appreciated! I love to hear what you think about the story and the characters! It makes writing this story even more fun! Each and every comment makes me smile!

Hope you liked it! Please review!