Two: a place to call my own

Writers note: my work is being beta-read by the lovely Sallzy. So a lot of thanks to her. I also crosspost this work on AO3 under the same penname, so that is also me! Thanks for al the lovely comments and follows. I appreciate it!


Death had been very adamant for the few last days. Annoyingly so. The sentient presence had wormed its way in his magic and Harry answered. That was rule number one: if Death wanted something, Harry had to listen. Another aggravating thing about Death; it had rules. The how and why Death had rules Harry wasn't willing to try and wrap his head around it.

The first time Harry had seen Death, it had appeared as Headmaster Dumbledore at Kings Cross why Death had chosen that form Harry would never really know, and Death didn't give a reason either, so Harry was content to leave it be for now. Death seemed to enjoy having Harry as clueless as possible in the beginning. The second time it had looked like it had no gender, like it was no person. Nowadays it was just Death, an entity. Harry was crazy enough to believe it anyway, it had told him, and it did not need to materialize. Great, just great. Harry sometimes felt like he went from a regular 'freak' to an even bigger 'freak'.

He had walked out of the quarry after casting a quick notice-me-not on the campsite, relieved that Merle had found his brother. It felt good seeing the two men hug each other happily, albeit may it be an awkward hug. He had given Merle a tracker, if Merle were ever in danger of some sort, Harry would know. He did not know why he did that; the man had done nothing for him, yet his magic had reacted, and Harry knew from experience that you needed to listen to your magic. Magic was sentient, just like the wanker that called itself Death. Everything always seemed to go back to Death. Although, if Harry thought hard about it, that was the truth. Life was a cycle and death played a big part in that. It was the nature of things.

Death could feel magic, and sometimes the fucker would actually talk to him or in his own words; 'choose to relay some information'. Harry had realised that Death was the sole reason for Harry's bad mouth as of late. Ron loved it since he cussed to himself, Draco scoffed at it, Luna just smiled at him whenever he was busy, and Severus would still slap the back of his head if he caught him. Harry hadn't known when it really started or maybe it was just part of him not being 'The-Man-Who-Conquered'. He didn't really care; he liked the new Harry or as others knew him now: Hadrian.

After walking a few kilometres into the woods, he let his wand fall out of the holster and cast a revealing charm that Luna had come up with. No inferi, no people and no large animals in the vicinity; he could safely apparate. He did so with barely any noise and landed on one of the apparition points that George and Luna had set up between the hefty wards. This one was close to the small manor and far away enough from their muggle compound, so that they could not be seen, in case the wards would fail or fall. Not that he expected that, not with the brilliance cursing through his new family. But it never hurt to be over prepared than under prepared. There were many ways to get around wards, something Harry had known from his own experience.

Harry walked across the stables to the smaller manor that was surrounded by the massive acres and acres of land. Although they had built a bigger manor, or the 'real' manor as Draco liked to put it, Harry and his new family members unanimously decided to live at the smaller, older manor that had been warded by a Peverell before Harry. The medieval wizard must have been beyond paranoid, but Harry liked it, a lot! The wards felt comforting, like a warm blanket around his shoulders. The way his invisibility cloak did even more with every passing day.

§§§§§

The moment that Harry had defeated the Dark Lord, or in his words; died by the hands of Tom Marvolo Riddle just to have to kill the tosser afterwards, the Wizarding World had let loose a breath that they did not know they had held. It didn't take very long for the world to return to normal or as normal as they could be. Harry was happy for the public, yet it rubbed him the wrong way the way they behaved as if nothing had happened.

The first weeks the Prophet screamed how thankful they were for 'Lord Potter-Black' and everybody hoped that he would take over for minister or head of the Auror department. When he did not do any of that in the first year, people were disappointed. When he didn't respond to all their letters, they stopped writing. Somehow along the way, his general appearance, and the fact that he did not wear his glasses anymore, courtesy of one very special potion master, made him the new Dark Lord or the new Merlin reincarnated.

Harry couldn't decide which was more fun. Ron swore that he was their saviour, while he snorted and ate a full plate of breakfast that Harry made that morning, before running off to the store. Draco had gulped his morning tea, devoured his poached egg, and had hoped for Harry to become a new Dark Lord. His smile had been contagious.

§§§§§

Harry had become Lord Hadrian James Potter-Black. He had found out that his father had named him Hadrian, but his mother had insisted on calling him Harry. He liked both and now used Hadrian for official business. He had not cut his hair completely after the battle. He decided he liked it even longer than before and wore it in a bad ass ponytail, like Bill did. It was less unruly now and a bit more tamed because of the length. With the lack of his glasses, his eyes shone either very bright or a dangerous 'avada kedavra'-green. Draco teased him about that mercilessly.

Draco had taken the opportunity to dress Harry as a lord and just to annoy Ron, Harry had brought his best mate along for the ride. Ron had protested at first but had to give in after being pestered by the blonde as well. Draco choosen the best of the best materials for their new robes, daily wear, dress robes, and battle gear. The blonde savoured every moment and even went as far as to choose the crimson, blood red battle dressings for Ron, with brown pants and boots. For Harry, it had turned mostly black, with green dress shirts and ties. Harry had gifted a few sets of potioneer robes to Severus as a silent show of gratitude. He had received a case of calming draughts without a note, two days later.

After Ron's declarations of support for Harry and against marrying Ginny, the Burrow had been full of tension, and in the end; there had been an all-out fight. It had taken Bill and Charlie to get Ron out alive, and into Georges apartment. Harry had invited Ron to Grimmauld place after George fire called him, and it had only taken three years before Draco stood at his doorstep as well. The marriage had been a known farce, he and Astoria had done what was needed; make an heir, and Draco was now done with living for others. He provided for Astoria because he cared a lot for her, yet did not feel comfortable to live under his fathers eyes.

When their Saviour had not returned to Hogwarts after the repairs, people started to stop corresponding. Harry was just fine with that. Minerva McGonagall had taken over as Headmistress for Hogwarts and urged him to at least finish his education at home. It took her a few floo calls to Grimmauld place and a letter here and there from Draco, but in the end she succeeded. Maybe it was because he could not say 'no' to the Scottish woman, maybe that was just the case, or perhaps it had nothing to do with Death whining about finishing his education while he slept. Which without doubt led to his sleepless nights. He had sent Minerva a few cases of his finest firewhiskey that the Black and Potter estates offered after his informal graduation dinner with his tutors, Draco, George, Ron, Luna and Neville.

Minerva herself, Filius, Pomona and Severus had helped him with his last miles; they understood the fact that Harry was tired. They understood that a lot of manipulation had happened, and that Harry needed his own time and his own freedom. They had also seen that Harry was more intelligent than he had shown. All those years trying to be less than Dudley would do that to you.

Severus had survived the shack and Nagini's attack, albeit his voice was now gruff, and he had added another scar to his vast collection that already littered his body. Harry had flagged Madam Pomfrey the moment he had left the shack, to find old Voldy, and had hoped for the best. Severus' fate had been a mystery at the end of the battle. Harry had not dared to ask. After a month of freedom, locked up with several bottles of firewhiskey at Grimmauld with only Kreacher, and Ron, Draco, and Lucius for his daily visitors, he had received a package with a sobering potion, and a list of ingredients and materials. The card had a very distinct handwriting.

Lord Potter-Black,

I did not try my best efforts to save you all these years to see you drown yourself in vast spirits. They might be a nice companion for one night, just not every day. Listen to my godson, take the potion, and let Mr. Weasley do what he thinks is best. If you ever tell him that I said this, I will deny it to my dying day (and we both know how bad we are at dying, aren't we, Lord Potter-Black).

I expect you at the apothecary shop in Hogsmeade at 13.00u. on monday. You have an education to finish, even if the rest of the world seems to deny that. Miss Envel knows you are on your way. Bring your supplies and dress decent. I expect to see the real Hadrian Potter-Black, not that drivel you showed while in Hogwarts.

Regards,
Potion Master Snape

Harry still had a baffled look on his face, knowing that it must have been either Draco or Minerva who arranged such a thing for him. Somewhere in his mind, even after viewing Snape's memories. Even though they had tried to bury the hatchet between them, Harry knew that it wasn't possible to get rid of all the years of hurt and anger between them, for as long as he could remember they had always been enemies. So, he sincerely doubted that the man had been willing to do this by himself.

If he only knew.

§§§§§

After the battle, Harry had found a frazzled Draco in the arms of his mother and father. Harry had taken a deep breath and extended his hand, a mirror action of Draco's almost seven years before.

"Maybe we need a second chance, Heir Malfoy." Nobody could say that the lessons Sirius had taught him were gone. Although they had been in contact, Harry needed to fix this openly, with the use of proper forms of address and all that. The last few years Harry had just needed to have people think differently because he had a role to play in the war. He held out Draco's wand in his other hand, flat on his palm and smiled. "Thank you for your help in defeating Voldemort, Heir Malfoy. I could not have done it without your wand."

Draco had looked up, his face still ashy and his blond hair dirty with blood, debris. Tear streaks visible on his face, his clothing completely dishevelled.

"Maybe we do, Lord Potter-Black, maybe we do." He had smiled and reluctantly taken his wand back. "Although I do believe this one won't work for me anymore."

"It isn't mine, maybe you will find one that suits you better."

"Thank you, Hadrian." The soft voice from Lady Malfoy was genuine and Harry nodded.

"For you Lady Malfoy, it's Harry." He smiled at the beautiful woman. "Lord Malfoy, thank you."

"You are very welcome. If you need any tutoring in any area, you may let me know. I believe the former lord Black taught you a few tricks, but there is more to know. You have done this country a great service, that debt must be repaid."

"Just take care of our mutual friend." He knew that Lucius was a close friend of Severus, and he knew that his old professor needed all the help he could get right now.

"I will," whispered Narcissa, "We will."

Harry had walked off to find Hermione and Ron in yet another fight. Maybe it was for the best that they did not date any longer. He smiled and felt the presence of his sister-in-all-but-blood next to him.

"Hello Harry." Her dreamy voice managed to make him smile every day.

§§§§§

Sirius was a genius or rather had been. A genius with trauma's and undealt problems; PTSS as the muggles called it, but a genius nonetheless. That summer, between the third and fourth year, he had corresponded with Harry through letters, and a special notebook. After the Triwizard tournament, he had taken him to Gringotts and explained almost everything as good as he could.

That year Harry officially became Heir Potter and Heir Black, and if anything happened to Sirius, he would be Lord Black as well. Even if he was not technically of age yet at that point. His Potter Lordship would come later, or he would be able to claim it after his Black lordship. He had worn the heir rings with a hefty concealment charm after that meeting, courtesy of the Goblins.

Somehow Lucius Malfoy had found out, and during Harry's and Draco's fourth year their fights had become more and more staged. It became difficult to fight if you would leave the other man a letter every now and then. Or asked him for advice on defence in Draco's case, or maybe just update him on the course work that they did in the DA. Draco was creative with his hexes, nothing ever hit him personally, and Harry just used his 'infamous' temper to land him detentions with Snape, who would tutor Harry in defence and potions. Harry always thought that it had been Dumbledore's plan all along, little did he know that it was Sirius and Narcissa's.

Sirius had taken to the Lordship with a flourish that nobody had expected, and had read his way through the Black library when no-one looked. There he had found something interesting; all who carried the Black blood, would not be able to go against him. Old Black rules, regulations and old blood enchantments that came from a Black lord a few centuries ago. This meant that Draco, Narcissa and Bellatrix would not be able to harm him. Andromeda or Nymphadora neither.

Sirius often apologized for everything after the Triwizard tournament; Harry's youth, his upbringing, Sirius own madness (the Black madness, as Draco called it), the things Sirius did not do but had wanted to, and the way Dumbledore had meddled in his life. Harry had forgiven him. He had accepted his life the way it was mainly after reading Sirius will, and by becoming lord Black. The way had been opened to accept his Lordship for the Potter estates as well. He had not told a single soul, save from Ron, and Draco who both swore an oath to keep Harry safe as much as they could.

Ron, the strategist of the 'Golden Trio', had taken his fourth year, when he was fighting with Harry over the tournament, to think things through and had some interesting conclusions. The Ron that had come to him, apologized, asked for another chance and a chance to do better, was no longer a boy but became a man who stood by Harry's and Hadrian's side no matter what.

Harry and Hermione stayed good friends through it all, but he felt a gap between them all because Hermione accepted everything Dumbledore said like it was written in the bible and was the gospel truth. Sirius had commented that Remus was very much the same. They were fine friends, but not the ones you would tell your heart's desires or your secrets too. Over time, in Harry's mind, Hermione was replaced by Draco, that had been a startling shock to him when he had first figured it out.

§§§§§

Luna stood on the lookout for Harry; her blond hair woven into braids that were almost angelic looking in the bright sunlight of that day. Her light blue battle robes were crisp and clean, the flowers in her hair looked as if she got them yesterday. He knew for a fact that she had worn them for the last few weeks. Neville planted them when he had started the gardens, and they had been from the first harvest. Now that they could not sell the flowers anymore, Neville used them to decorate both manors. It may be something small, but it helped the survivors to have a bit of normalcy in their lives.

"Harry!" she squealed and hugged him tightly. "Was Death right?"

Harry just smiled at her, and with a flick of his wand he dropped his glamours so that he looked more like the powerful wizard he was than the muggle he had been portraying. Death's symbol, the coat of arms of the Peverell's clearly visible on his right wrist like a branded tattoo, his pale complexion mixed with his very green orbs that saw everything. Death's brand did take away the scars from the blood quill, because of the dark magic that inhabited it. Death magic was the only dark magic that was permitted on Harry's body from now on.

"Isn't the bloody bugger always?" He sighed while letting his body, and magic relax. The wards were so strong that even someone as vigilant as Harry did not need to keep up his protections constantly.

Luna hummed a soft tune under her voice and took his left hand. Harry did not know how, what, or why, but Luna always knew. He hadn't even told her that he became the Master of Death and one night, Luna had looked at him with those beautiful light blue orbs of hers and declared that even a Master of Death had to live his own life. She declared it like it had been a regular thing to say, and then just went on with her story about the bowtruckles she had found in the woods close by the river.

They walked together in silence to the smaller manor that stood proud on the land. Harry called it a manor; Draco would still argue that it was a house. Apparently the Peverell's had been richer in land and estates than money, something the Black and Potter vaults more than made up for with their gold. A few of those plots had been in America and Australia, making it a perfect escape route for Harry.

"Marriet and Severus are requesting a war council, are you coming along?" Luna hopped alongside him, petting a few birds that flew her way.

"Naturally, my sister-dear, lead the way." Although they could apparate on the magical grounds, just not into every piece of the ground, Harry liked to walk. That was his way to get his mind straight and he could ponder on the last three days that he had been in the field himself. Often Ron and Draco took care of the supply runs, so Harry could manage the base of operations, as Marriet had started calling it.

"Did master Vilnuk made it back, safely?" Harry remembered that the contractor had been searching for his family.

"I believe so, he only brought his little brother along." Luna answered, while seemingly looking distracted at Harry's head. "Do remember to watch for Vilkies Harry, don't let them take over!"

Harry, used to Luna's way of speech, just nodded.

"The wrackspurts are gone then?"

"No, not at all, but they are not dangerous. You should know that my dear Harry." She hummed a tune under her voice.

"Thank you for looking out for us, my sister-dear." Harry halted her for a moment and kissed the top of her head.

§§§§§

Lucius had been the one to suggest it. He should take a break, investigate his properties, and enjoy life for a bit. Well suggested, the Lord of the Malfoy estate had practically ordered him to do so after his 25th birthday. Harry had taken that suggestion to heart eventually and became a nomad after his 26th birthday. Every week he would have a friend or an acquaintance that would visit him, wherever he was at that moment. Harry speculated that Ron and Draco had set something up, the two men fast becoming friends after living together at Grimmauld place. They both realised that their lives were different than they expected or had hoped for and tried to do better than before by being at least civil to each other, only if it was just for their mutual friend whom they considered a brother.

Harry found a manor on a plot of land between Macon and Athens in the state of Georgia in the U.S.A., across a wild reserve border, that was as unplottable as it could get. The magic was old. Having nothing much to do and already leaving Grimmaulds to Ron in his will, Harry decided to build another fortress there. It was completely off-grid and needed no output from the outside if Harry decided to get away for a while.

The estate was gigantic and had two small rivers ripple through it that came from the wildlife reserve that belonged to Harry as well. The complete area was warded and there were some house elves who took care of the property, lands, and animals. The water divided the land in three parts. The smaller part had been used to live upon. It had the most amenities and housed the original Peverell manor. The middle part, between the two rivers that flew through his estate, had been nature all around. A group of trees, some fruit trees, a little bit of wizarding forest, with woods that Harry had started harvesting for his wands, and enough green that even Neville would not complain.

Harry had bought an extra piece of land that was for sale right next to the bigger river, so nobody would be able to stumble upon him. He was now surrounded by woods, water, and land completely. George and Ron, who had become ward specialists, warded every bit of land left of the bigger river to be unplottable for any muggles or unwanted guests.

He had restored the older manor to his taste, so that he could live there, and have guests over to his wishes and needs. He had built a little porch that looked towards the river and the bigger manor, and on the other side a sunroom with a little sunroom full of plants, that oversaw the quidditch field. The house elves had been ecstatic that he had arrived and saw to everything he needed. Harry had relieved Kreacher and made him his personal elf. Somewhere along the years, the little thing warmed up towards Harry and actually took care of him now.

Harry sent two younger families of elves to Grimmauld place that he found among his estates, to take care of Ron and Draco, and sold of a big estate in Australia that was not to his taste. He had a few townhouses if needed in the country. It was Neville who taught him how to take care of the elves, helped him talk to the elders and distribute them evenly, so they could mix with each other and mate for younglings. He appointed Kreacher as the head elf and somehow that fixed the last of his problems with the grumpy elf.

He hired a goblin construction company to help build a big manor, when he still had the idea that he would live there and offer his family members their own wing or place within it. Goblin magic made it easier to expand rooms or throw your own magic at it. Their plumbing was exceptional and barely needed repairs. It made for a sentient building, just like Hogwarts. It had become quite a big one, with two towers and a large courtyard for a simple walk. It had three levels; a basement which housed a large potion lab, potion cupboard, duellist area's and big deposits for all the stuff Ron and Draco had been hoarding as of late. Shrunken they could fit even more, but some items were delicate. Although the potion cupboard was more a deposit than a cupboard, since it was as large as the complete Dursley's house altogether.

The first floor had a communal living room with kitchen, rooms for the elves and a ballroom with an attached pub. Somehow Draco had sneaked that one in the drawings without him knowing. The second floor held four large apartments with all the facilities that a wizard or witch could need. Most held a living room, master bedroom with a large bathroom, two bedrooms, a smaller bathroom, and single bathroom with a toilet for guests. There was a separate kitchen with a pantry and usually two rooms that had no destination. That would be up for their owner(s) to decide.

When they reached the third floor, Harry had already decided that he would stay at the older manor, which was too large for him as it was, so he went back to the drawing board and crafted eight smaller apartments. It had been a hunch, or maybe it was Death who had been bothering him again. Harry stopped questioning the things that happened in his life. Those apartments all held a master bedroom with bathroom, two bedrooms with a guest toilet, a living room that had its kitchen built in, and an empty room included. They were still very spacious, yet a bit more sober.

One tower held an owlery and the other a menagerie for the eagles that Neville had gifted him. The smaller buildings that surrounded the courtyard had no destination yet and the head goblin had ensured him that he could always call upon them to finish the job. Draco had crafted the courtyard and added a big fountain that depicted the tale of the Hallows, courtesy of George.

Harry had dubbed it Hallow manor after seeing the fountain, and Death found it very fitting. So happy for its master that it cast his own protective spells around the premises as well. After a while Luna and Neville had shown up, needing a long vacation away from Dowager Longbottom who had started to age and criticize Neville on his love for the greenhouses. She still wasn't happy that Neville hadn't taken his 'rightful' position at the Wizengamot. So, he asked Harry if he could work the lands around his manor, to expand his business, and maybe live at peace for a few years with Luna before taking on the mantle as Lord Longbottom.

Harry had wanted to gift them a large apartment at Hallow manor, yet they took one of the wings at Peverell manor, claiming they wanted to stay close to their friend. Luna explored the forest and its inhabitants, Neville crafted a few large greenhouses left of Hallow manor, for his flowers, greenery, potion ingredients that he sold to various potion masters around the world. Luna expanded the larder close to one of the ponds that was not suitable for swimming. She decorated the smaller pound, that they did swim in, with all the beautiful rocks and knickknacks she found or was gifted by the magical animals. The elves were happy with a master that understood the lands and helped Neville whenever they could. In return he helped them on the farms.

Food was the one thing magic would not provide, so most pureblood manors had their own larders, gardens, and farms. Most purebloods would have the house elves look after them, but Neville found it peaceful to also work on them himself so he could oversee it all. Luna bought some goats, chickens, a few cows, and extra pigs for his animal farm and petting zoo.

§§§§§

At the quarry, where Merle hollered for Daryl, Shane had gotten angry at Merle, Shane felt as if it was because Merle was the weird fucker here. However at the present time Merle was tired, fed up, and was itching for a fight, so he locked eyes with the deputy sheriff and did not feel any remorse for his actions. The one lesson he learned from his no good-for-nothing-father. Daryl with his trusty crossbow in hand at his right, both ready to take it home if needed.

"You motherfucker!" Shane tried to take a swing at Merle but was being held back with great effort by T-Dog and Rick, the new officer friendly. Merle stood straight, an evil yet playful grin on his lips.

"You are crazy!" Shouted the deputy.

"Ai deputy, ya wound ol' Merle's hart, ya know that!" Merle smiled viciously at him and looked around the camp. "Y'all wanted to let me die on that roof, wouldn't you? If the British sunshine hadn't found me, I would have been. Merle would have been a dried walnut." Merle was pissed off but laughed at his own joke. He heard the china man snicker, but ignored it for now. He really had no beef with the china man. He might not feel the aftereffects of the drugs anymore, maybe thanks to Hadrian, but he was still angry with the rest of them for just leaving him on that roof. They could have said no, they could have stopped it but they hadn't and to Merle that made them just as guilty.

"Heya, Merle." The nigga let go of Shane, who had stopped struggling, but was just being his annoying self, looking like he owned the world. "I'm sorry man, I really am. We were just getting ready to go back, I swear man! I was going back for you, together with Rick here."

Merle gave the nigga a one-over and squinted. "You hella lucky sunshine found me, Bubbles or I would have ya hide."

"I'm really sorry man, I really am. I panicked, I did!" stammered T-Dog while looking over the big redneck and his brother with the crossbow still half up, ready for a fight.

"Now, ol' Merle is feeling rather generous, especially after having a good conversation and a damn sandwich." Merle's smile was mean. "We're good, bubbles, we're good. Just stay tha fack away from me and Daryl. Gotcha?"

"Yeah man, got it, yeah." Was all that T-Dog could say with a blush hiding in his features, taking a few steps back from the angry man.

"Now, where are those squirrels ya promised me, my brother dear?" Merle ignored officer friendly, flipped the deputy off, and walked to his part of the camp, Daryl on his tail. They left the drama to the real drama kings and queens. Already hearing Dale trying to assess the situation.

"Ya're 'right?" Asked Daryl the moment they reached their tent and camping gear. "Ya'll look like hell, ya know."

"I'm fine, Daryl." They took their places and started working on the squirrels that Daryl had brought back. They would give a few to Carol, the nice lady who had been cooking, and doing their laundry for them. She was nice, but Merle wanted to punch every tooth out of her ugly ass husband's face, if he could get away with it. He could just feed the man to the Walkers, maybe he should. "I'm better than expected. Mister Brit patched me up, knew a bit about that, and gave me water and food. Just pissed at officer friendly, but nothing to do about that now."

"Ya still wanna leave?" Daryl cut the best parts of the squirrel skin to dry and took a bucket which he filled with meat, to give to Carol. "I saw the car ya came with."

"Yeah, sunshine found that. Dunno how, might have told him. I was kinda high at that roof." Merle realised that he had no memories of anything between the roof and the car but decided not to let a gift get wasted.

"Ya damn idiot!" His younger brother looked at him with a face of annoyance. "The fucking death are walkin', Merle! Ya could hav' died!"

"Yeah yeah, don't get ya panties in a bunch, Darileena, I'm still here." Merle worked on the meat that his brother had gathered, not speaking about his hayward emotions that rushed through his body. Not realizing what they meant yet. "We wait, use tha car and our supplies for usselves. See where they goin', alrigh'? Maybe find Sunshine on the way, said he had a home. Might make ourselves useful, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure."

The Dixon men were not known for their words. They understood each other well by just looking at the other. They knew to keep their guard up, watch over Sophia, maybe Carol, and Merle would see what he could do about that asshole of an Ed. Unconsciously he rubbed at the leather cuff that Hadrian had given him, all the while he idly wondered. What if?

Unbeknownst to him, Harry felt what Merle felt at that moment through the tracker, and smiled while he looked around the war table, something he had not pictured during his last birthday.