Thank you so much for reading and responding to this story. I enjoy reading your takes and opinions. I'm sorry this last update kept you waiting a bit longer, but my private life took over. Eind of year, exams .. as a teacher I'm always more busy. Salllzy, thank you for beta'ing again :).
I hoped you enjoyed it, I have a lot written on paper for the next chapters that need to be typed out. Where's my summer holiday when I need it ;).
Fifteen: easy going, easy flowing
Previously; Harry decides to go home, and introduces the Dixon's, Carol, and Sophia to the people that he considers family. He meets up with Lucius, Blaise, and Theo, and finally gets some work done that has been waiting for him on his desk. Although his evening got hotter than expected, it wasn't the spicy meat for a change. Ron and Severus are reliving their spying days without trying.
Past time Grimmauld Place, Harry
Harry was tired as he exited the floo with much more ease than he had ever done before. It seemed that getting the right training did have its use, and having a Black teach you while you had the Black magic, also came in handy. He was grateful for the Malfoy's in his life, even if some others did not understand that connection. Even Ronald had warmed up to the blondes in his vicinity.
The ministry was still a mess even after the big clean-up after the war. Amos Diggory, who had been appointed as spearhead for this operation, had requested Harry's presence once again without any valid reason. So Lucius and him had started playing the game as well, Lucius was obviously better than Harry, but Harry was a quick study and was able to pick up cues faster than he even had expected himself.
The house was quiet, and the only magical signature was Kreacher for now. He still wasn't used to being the head of a family. Ron must have been at home at one point, since his energy always lingered, something that the Weasleys all had in common, and it seemed that Draco would be in very soon, as he felt the energy around the house shift to accommodate its guests. Magic was still able to surprise him. It was so alive that he sometimes mourned the years that he wasn't in contact with them.
He guessed from Ron's usual schedule that it would not be long before Ron would be home. There was a good chance that he was at the Burrow, trying to placate his mother or give her some support. Molly was torn after the war between grieving for Fred, or pestering her other children about marriage, getting a nice job or just interfering in their lives.
There was a reason that Bill and Fleur did not come home every Sunday for dinner. Even with a quick international floo, they seemed to stay in France more than once on a Sunday. It had happened that they chose to rather go to Harry's, than Molly and Arthur's.
Usually Ron would bring George along with some excuse that they made up on the spot, so that George would be able to get away under Molly's wings. Her grief had done quite a number on her, and although he could forgive her for thinking certain things, he did not know if he ever would. She wasn't the direct problem, but she had been feeding those ideologies for a very long time.
After the war, things had changed. People were different.
Harry sighed, as he kicked off his boots next to the hearth where he had just stepped through.
"Kreacher?"
"Yes, master Harry?"
"My house shoes, if you please." It was such a fancy thing to do, but after Kreacher had introduced him to the idea of not wearing his boots indoors and the comfort of those warm things, he couldn't say no to the automatic heating and cooling charms, and softness on his feet.
Kreacher worked fast, and within seconds his house shoes stood next to him.
Communicating with Kreacher had gone so much better since the Horcrux had left the house, and Kreacher knew that he had fulfilled his former masters' wish. The Black magic made sure that he could not disobey him anymore, but Kreacher had apologised for that himself when Harry had taken on the mantle. He now worked with a gusto that was unfamiliar.
Maybe this was the reason why Hermione didn't visit often, but he wasn't going to say 'no' to a loyal house elf who loved working for him just because Hermione did not understand how things really worked. As long as you shared your family magic with the elves, they loved to work for humans. Luckily for Kreacher: Harry had plenty. Harry had upgraded Kreacher's living and working accommodations like the kitchen and pantry. Plus he had gotten him a few new sets of uniforms, so that the elf could be a proper member of the family again, and wear what was proper for him. All of them adorned with the Black family crest.
"Thank you, Kreacher." He said to the empty spot in front of him, but he knew Kreacher heard him, as a tea set appeared before him with just the elements that he loved. It had the Potter crest on it, which made Harry believe that Kreacher knew about his day.
"I'll be taking it in my office, thank you Kreacher."
The elf popped in before him, bowed, and popped away with the tea service without a word. Knowing that he had a master again, had made Kreacher happier than ever, and it showed.
Harry loved fancy things. He was bloody rich now, and he enjoyed it to the max. Growing up when even the basic amenities were kept from you, really did a number on people. Somehow he understood that Tom Riddle Jr. had turned into a sociopath. So he decided that he was allowed some nice things. Luckily Ron had taken that to heart as well, and wasn't as embarrassed as he used to be if and when Draco or Harry would buy him luxuries.
House slippers, tea sets, dining with a cloth napkin every night; why the hell not. Luxurious leather boots, shiny cuffs, and fancy whiskey in crystal tumblers. Harry knew that he was different, so why not enjoy life to the fullest before it would be taken from him again.
Different than before, different from anyone else. It was probably an understatement, probably even more that anyone next to Ron and Draco knew. Harry removed all his glamours, and willed his lordship rings into sight, as he entered the hallway to walk up to his office.
Harry had become the Master of Death.
At least, that was what Death had told him. The entity was a sneaky one; he hadn't told him outright when he had crossed the ghostly 'Kings Cross', no. He hadn't even told him after the war, when his magic had exponentially grown, even more than it should have, nor when Harry had been having those weird dreams. He had even kept its mouth shut when Harry trained even more under Severus or looked for answers in the library.
No, Death had waited until Harry had died again, for the third time in his life, and then he had invited him in with the famous words; 'welcome master, you're finally home.'
Past time Grimmauld Place, Ron
"Harry?" Ron hadn't seen his best mate in a week, and he worried about him daily. "Are you around, mate?" He called out towards the familiar stairs of Grimmauld place, guessing that Harry was probably somewhere upstairs if he followed the magic around the house.
Now that the place had been spruced up it looked loads better, yet the building never seemed to lose the gloomy vibe that it had during the war. Harry had been able to remove the portrait of Walburga when he'd gotten the Black family magic, but Ron was still afraid to awaken the dreadful witch. It did show that Sirius had not been in a good place or he hadn't taken over the mantle as head of the family. Ron wondered. Dumbledore had done quite a number on him. Ron had learned very quickly that there was no good, nor evil in a war. There were just people and their actions.
Harry wasn't in the best of state as of late, and the frantic way he had been searching for a new wand worried Ron even more. He probably would have done the same if he was in Harry's shoes so he did not blame him, but he needed to take care of him all the same. If Harry would get too focused on one subject, he could seclude himself until he got the answer, and that was one thing that Ron needed to make sure shouldn't happen.
The young, green-eyed boy who had become his best friend the moment they met on the train, who had to grow up even more than was necessary from the moment he had walked into the halls that made up Hogwarts, had a habit of attracting danger wherever he went. Ron, going against popular belief, did care more about Harry's welfare than about his own ego or public appearances. He would do a lot for Harry, he would carry his burdens, he would make sure they would disappear before they came before Harry.
Ron noticed that Draco's apprentice robe wasn't on the coat rack by the door, nor were his work boots. So it was out of question to ask the healer-in-training if he knew where their roommate was. Ron considered sending a Patronus or using the modified DA-coin that George had made, as he did not know where Harry could be, even though they had planned this dinner meeting weeks ago. It had been at Harry's request, and the red-head wondered what it could be about.
He did have a bad feeling.
Ron was finally done with his full-time inhouse training, and was able to spend time home with his family and friends. During this inhouse training he only had Sunday's off, and those days were filled with sleeping, eating at the dinner table at the Burrow, doing one drink for the road, and then back to bed again. Now, he was able to start his life again. Go out on dates, check up with Harry and Draco more often, and visit Neville a bit more often.
His training had been rigorous, but weirdly enough Ron had loved every minute of it. Auror training had been a mix of practical training, duelling, assessment courses, classes, and loads of other things that he needed to know. Within seconds an Auror needed to see or hear what spell came their way, react in the proper way, and take the culprit in for questioning.
Ron was especially good in tracking, and before he knew it, he had been boosted a year up because they needed him on the field more than in school. Kingsley had been one of his personal tutors as well whenever he could. After the war a lot of Auror's had died or been accomplices to the Death Eaters, which caused the numbers in the office to dwindle exponentially. Kingsley had been the one to talk him into joining and he made exemptions for everyone that had fought in the battle.
Ron hadn't expected to be able to go with his current O.W.L.-results. He thought that he needed to go back to Hogwarts, which still had the scars from the battle inscribed in his memory, and get his N.E.W.T. 's, but Kingsley had needed him. Especially since Harry had declined. Ron had always known that his best mate would not take that route. Especially not since he had visited Gringotts for a second time for an audit of his assets.
Harry needed some peace. Ron and Draco both had advised him to take some hard earned rest before he got into another adventure. Thankfully the man in question had listened.
Ron had done better at the academy than anyone had expected; especially his mother. He was in the top three of best students, and by winning the Auror-tournament two years in a row, that Mad-Eye had set up years before, he had outdone even himself. The fact that he was top of his class at Course of the Mad-Eye did help. Beating Ron took at least two fully trained Auror's now.
Somehow having his father proud of him, and Percy telling him that he'd done good, that had meant something for Ron. Fleur and he had warmed up to each other, and she had been his biggest supporter ever. He had not thought that possible, but Veela's were sensitive to magic and deception, and Ron had pulled the biggest con on everybody, just to keep Severus and Draco safe.
That had included learning occlumency, legilimency, poison brewing, stealth, defence, and chess tactics – which meant war tactics in real life - from Severus, while Draco had helped him become the best pureblood son ever. Because of that training, he had been able to maintain his masks as carefully as he did.
It had been a few days before the wedding that Fleur had pulled him apart, erected a few anti-listening wards, and had looked at him expectantly. Ron had stumbled through an explanation that was as fake as possible, but she had just smiled.
"You know how zo find me, yes?" Her accent had improved a bit, but it was still noticeable.
"Yes, why?"
"If you or 'arry need 'elp, do not forget to contact me."
With those words she had walked off into another room, leaving Ron wide-eyed watching the fiery blond disappear.
The moment Ron unsheathed his wand to send a Patronus into the world for Harry, Kreacher appeared before him. Ron sometimes forgot to call for the elf, because he did follow Harry wherever he went, so it wasn't always a given that the elf would be at Grimmauld.
"Master Weasley." His voice wasn't as heavy as before the war, he still sounded tired and old, but Kreacher had found a reason to live again.
"Hello Kreacher. How are you today, did you see Harry?" he asked very neutrally. He had found that Kreacher disliked being treated like a child, as some families did with house elves, but screaming at him made him very recalcitrant. Treating him without much further ado did the trick more than often. It kept the atmosphere neutral.
Ever since the horcrux had left the building, Kreacher had become much more intelligible, and had started to take care of the house. He still grumbled, but Ron thought the little thing probably had done that all his life. Harry had bound him again, but this time as head elf of the household, which meant that he couldn't share any secrets without being told. It was a better symbiose for both.
"I am good Master Weasley, Master is in his study. He's …" the Elf wobbled on his feet before speaking any further, trying to determine the right word "studying."
Ron knew enough.
"Thank you, Kreacher. That will be all."
"As master Weasley says," and with a pop the Elf disappeared.
Ron knocked three times on the door of the big study that the three of them had brought back to its original state and grandeur, as he waited for Harry to respond. After a few moments he heard a soft 'yes?' through the heavy oak door.
Ron hesitantly opened the door, and waited a few moments before entering. Seeing as nothing was amiss, except for Harry who seemed out of himself at the desk, Ron entered the room completely. Looking into the office, Ron noticed that Harry had adjusted the colours to go from grey to blue since they had moved in after the war, and he had bought a new comfortable chair to sit in before the fire that was burning quite heavily. Kreacher probably had put a few new logs on there, for having the room that warm.
Harry barely reacted to his presence, and he settled in front of the desk, waiting. Harry had asked him to come by to discuss some matters. He could wait until Harry was done with his other conversation.
The previous lords had decorated the place to their likings, over and over again, and Harry was no exception. It gave an eclectic appeal to the old room that Ron appreciated so much in wizarding homes.
One day he wished to own a house himself, but he had a feeling that this would not be the case very soon. Although Harry had made it very clear that Ron would always have a place in his family, and he had more housing to spare, Ron first of all did not want to leave Harry alone. Not in a house as big as Grimmauld Place. Not Harry who had suffered, and still had loads of problems with his ever expanding magic, his lordships, the fans, the media, and most of all his own thoughts. Ron was always there for him, no matter what, and although the public believed differently, he would always put Harry first.
Growing up as the sixth son in a large family, it had been ingrained in him to take care of others. He had mostly been overlooked. Between the brilliant Bill, the energetic Charlie, Percy who followed in his brothers footsteps and had gotten one of the highest marks in Gryffindor history, to his twin-brothers who had always been the happy energy that the Weasley's needed, and Ginny the only girl. Ron always felt loved, welcome, and cherished, but he had been overlooked. If something needed to be done; Charlie. If it was a family business; Bill. Helping the others with their summer work; Percy. Need a laugh; call in the twins.
Meeting Harry on the train that first year had been a blessing and curse in disguise. They had fought, cried, and laughed together, but most of all: Harry had needed Ron. He needed him as a friend, a brother, but Ron could be that person for Harry that he needed. He had time and energy to think about him. Sure, he had been jealous at times, and he had needed some time to grow up, but Harry felt like a true family. Kinship.
It made him miss Hermione, who had been drifting away from them the last few years. They wrote, but barely met up. It was as if she was avoiding them. Draco mused that it was because she literally hated all that was pure-blooded, and now that Harry had taken up his mantles, she had wanted nothing to do with that. Ron doubted that; she was the smartest witch that had graced the halls of Hogwarts for a long time, but even he could not give an answer. She knew he was there if she needed him.
Present time Behind the Greene farm, Shane and Rick; watched by Harry, Ron, and Draco
The moment Ron had argued with Harry over going back for Shane, Harry did not know what to say. Ron really wanted the mad dog in his squad? He wanted to rescue the deputy? Shane, the same guy who had attacked Ron? It baffled him.
Still, he trusted Ron with his life, so he hadn't questioned it too much, and they compromised on checking the farm out before they made final decisions. I could never hurt to just look.
Ron had been back there two days ago for the occasional check-up, where they still had held the young boy a hostage that they had seen when they had left the farm. Shane and Rick had argued over their prisoner, and Harry felt surprised that they still hadn't killed him, nor released the boy when Ron retold his findings that evening when he came back.
War-Harry would kill in an instant, and if he was honest: the boy wouldn't survive either way. Not with that leg all botched up. Normal-Harry would question the man and then decide what to do, but it wasn't his decision. It wasn't even his problem. This behaviour that the group showed was exactly why Harry had wanted to flee as quickly as possible. No evident leadership taken. No, albeit unspoken, rules. The farmers and their new friends were a liability, and not choosing one leader made them weak.
Harry had not chosen to be a leader, but he always tried to listen to his councils, or let them decide to do something. He had become their leader in a natural way, especially after being an unwanted beacon for the light all those years before, during, and after the war, whilst being the darkest wizard there was out there without hardly anyone noticing. He doubted if Tom Riddle had known about these forces that Harry dealt with on a daily basis.
Harry had a small guess or just a gut-feeling that Dumbledore had known all along, and had tried to get the Hallows for himself. Death wasn't fooled so easy, nor did he accept everyone as its 'master' as you had to earn it. Walk to hell, come back, and then get the reward. Harry sometimes wished he hadn't won that particular lotto-ticket.
Ron had been out and about as usual as he couldn't sit still after all those years, and the news he brought him this morning had worried both men. Harry was still a people-person. If Shane was being poisoned by Lori as Ron suspected, then his behaviour was totally understandable. Especially since the man was a Muggle, who could not protect himself, and would slowly be losing his mind to it. It explained the aggressive behaviour. The irrational decisions, but also the change of heart or the way he looked after the children. He had genuinely worried for Carl, and that did give him an extra tick on the positive side.
Harry sat perched on his desk, looking into the black flames that rustled in the hearth before him, whilst thinking over the words that Death had spoken not too long ago in the forest. Ron was lounging in one of the chairs next to him, enjoying a glass of cold water, while he waited for Harry to come down with a decision. Contemplating about life himself apparently, as Harry saw him looking at the chessboard that he had set up. Probably trying to rehash a game he had played with Severus the night before.
Time was a funny thing, if you knew you couldn't die so easily. It might have been one hour, it might have been three. Harry was surprised to still see Ron sitting before him, now nursing a cup of tea with honey. A habit he had picked up from Draco whilst in Hogwarts.
Harry drank his tea very plain and easy, or just with a dash of milk. He only really liked sugar in his treats and cakes, with a cup of tea.
"If you're wrong, you will be fixing this, Ron." Harry emphasised, as he watched Death fade away into nothingness next to him. Off to do whatever a deity like that would do on a daily basis.
"Naturally." The 'my lord' went unsaid, nor was it necessary.
Present time Peverell Manor
Time at the Peverell lands passed quicker than expected. Daryl had tried to get the place above the stables, but Neville had declined it for now, saying that they needed their builders on Luna Park first before they could start on a new project. The Dixons understood that need, because they had seen Luna Park for themselves, and Daryl now slept in a room next to Ron.
Daryl had softly laughed at Merle's face, as he was herded into one of the apartments at Hallow Manor with Carol, and Carol had not even batted an eye when she showed him the master bedroom. There was a guest room, but that had been claimed by Sophia immediately, so he had been stuck with Carol since the other rooms had not been tended to. Merle had tried to get Neville to expand the room, but Luna had claimed her husband, and that had been that.
Theo and Blaise had become regulars around the premises, and after a few weeks both men moved into the singles wing until they got their own apartment next to Merle and Carol ready. Theo loved to hike, and this morning Daryl ran into him, as he was helping Luna herd the animals.
Daryl was now in charge of the hunting teams if Hadrian did not request his help, and he had already teamed up with Mitchell a few times. The young boy was eager to learn, and since Ron had gone back to scavenging, they had some extra crossbows for hunting so Daryl now had two off his own, and used the others to teach the young boy. Mitchell was eager, and learned quickly, so Daryl found it less of a chore than he had expected.
Mitchell looked like a distant Weasley-cousin, but Ron had waved that idea away real quick. The boy with his reddish-blonde hair was good with a small compound bow, as he wasn't strong enough to wield the crossbow that Daryl loved. The Dixon's had promised the youngest boy on the compound, to teach him, if he could master the compound, and if he got stronger, and that seemed to motivate him a lot.
Merle had found a kindred spirit in Ezra and both men had started planning, hunting, and walking the grounds together. Merle loved his idea of making a garage, and he in return helped Ezra with making some long-lasting traps for hunting small game. Carol found a soul sister in Mila, and she helped with redecorating the little houses that were already done, waiting for their new owners.
So far, only one of Ezra's mates had turned up. Gabriel Richardson, who had been working as a farm hand before, and had taken up that job immediately with Mack and John. The brothers were still working as diligently as they had done before the apocalypse, and Vicky would run between both encampments with Carol. Luna had taken a great liking to the unfazed woman that was Vicky. A true enigma in her own way, which spoke to Luna naturally.
The others thought that the furniture had belonged to Luna Park, but little did they know that Ron had found an abandoned motel a few days ago that was still being remodelled when the death had risen, and he had taken the whole inventory. From tables, beds, televisions, to the bed linens or towels; if he could take it, he had. Carol had smiled to Vicky in a mischievous way as Mila had just shrugged, and the women hadn't mentioned it again.
Life fell into an easy rhythm. It wasn't the hard life they had expected from an apocalyptic new world but everybody had their own tasks that needed to be done, and Hadrian seemed to mix all his duties with whatever seemed to be on his agenda for the day. Merle often wondered who made his agenda, since he only saw the small elf around.
The first week had flown by as if it was nothing. In comparison with the feeling of needing to flee or fight from before, the Dixon's felt at ease. A little on the rough side but at ease.
It was hard work on the lands, but Mack seemed to have that completely under control, and the house elves worked the magical lands with Neville, and sometimes the Muggle ones in the evenings. Daryl and Merle only needed to hunt once every two weeks, they were told, just to help keep up appearances with Ezra's side of the lands, as many of Harry's business endeavours had started to be populated again and producing; there was a steady stream of meat coming their way.
They would always have meat for dinner, sometimes in stews or other things like soup, and the leftovers were distributed the day after for breakfast and lunch.
It could almost be called a normal life. Almost.
Present time Daryl and Harry, Peverell Manor
Hadrian had been present for the first time that week for breakfast in the communal dining room. Daryl had learned real quick that Hadrian loved his privacy, and he realised after living the life the man had; that the raven-haired man needed it, just like Daryl did. Sometimes you needed to be alone, and since there had been more survivors filling in the rooms, he realised that maybe being sensitive to magic could do this to a person.
"Morning Daryl," Hadrian greeted him with a soft smile. "Do you have any plans for today?"
The man was dressed in a dark dress pant, with a charcoal grey dress shirt, and the usual combat boots. He barely seemed to go without. It looked very casual on him in comparison to the other looks he had seen him sport lately, but Daryl couldn't complain. He liked this version just as much, if not even more, because it showed a darker side to Hadrian that he liked.
On the other hand, Daryl had done what he did every morning; he just took the first shirt he could find, and had put it on. He wanted to say something, but Merle beat him to it.
"Mornin' sunshine."
"Goodmorning Merle. How's the apartment coming along?" Hadrian was munching on some fruits, and buttered toast, as he drank from the pumpkin juice that always seemed to be on the table, no matter the time of day.
"Not bad. Bed's fine. Sophia has started to decorate her room, so that's good. I dunno if it's good that George is helping her." The man smiled, and literally plopped down on a chair whilst he started plating food. "Still could use some knick knacks, but that's to be expected."
Harry hummed in agreement, but did not engage further on. "So, Daryl?" Hadrian inquired with a drawn eyebrow.
"Nothin', you want to head out?" He replied with ease, now that the brunt of the conversation wasn't focused on him. He finished the last of his eggs, and took another slice of bread. He still had not gotten used to stuff just appearing on the table, but he was a simple man that did not complain when food would appear in front of him. Not at all.
"Yes, actually. Do you want to come along? Ron just left with George, and I could use an extra hand." Hadrian seemed to elaborate more than he needed, but Daryl just shrugged a "yeah" and finished his food.
"Okay, I'll meet you in thirty minutes by the stables? I'll have to change clothes, and get my satchel." Hadrian called for Kreacher, before he stood up and tipped his imaginary hat towards both men without further ado. Something Daryl had come accustomed to with their chosen leader. Or rather; their friend.
Hadrian had apparated them to a small town, not far from the Greene farms, and they found the apothecary in a few minutes. There were three walkers, which were easily dealt with, especially with Hadrian's magic. Just like on their hunts, both men barely talked, but Daryl felt that comfortable feeling again of being around and in Hadrian's magic.
"Looking for specifics?" Daryl commented, as he was on the lookout for walkers and other life forms, as Hadrian was loading the whole store in his infinity satchels. Their names are courtesy of George.
Hadrian was rummaging through some cabinets, but since most of it had been looted already, he did not know what Hadrian could want.
"John said that there was a vault here with gold. We need it for the ward stones. Could do with some coins as well." Hadrian was turning on the heels of his boots, and seemed to take in his new surroundings.
"Tried picking it?" He asked with a shrug.
"Yes, won't budge. I need a fingerprint." Hadrian paused, and then just shrugged. "Ah, fuck it. Let's try it the old fashioned way."
He motioned for Daryl to stand back, as he took out the weird wand, as Daryl had dubbed it, and cast a silent spell towards it. On the first try Daryl only saw a red colour, and nothing happened. On the second try there was a red and purple colour, and the door gave in. It seemed like Hadrian had blown the hinges off.
"Violence sometimes is the answer," muttered Hadrian, seemingly to no-one, and Daryl looked back at the street, where two walkers had heard the noise. He loaded his bow, shot the first, loaded his bow again, and then shot the second down without any problems. Having the magical runes on the arrows, making sure that he could retrieve the arrows much safer, came in handy. Somehow the things would just show up on his bow again if he wasn't able to do that himself.
"Do you mind if we check the rest of the buildings?" Harry asked Daryl, when they passed a clothing and hunting shop, always on the hunt for more stuff. Originally Ron was supposed to come with him, but he had been called away to London, on official Auror business that Harry did not trust, so he had sent George and Draco along as back-up. Draco was visiting his parents, and George he did not know, but he knew that George had tried to contact Lee and Angelina, but neither had responded.
Daryl was a steady shot, and since he was sensitive to magic, he made for a good spotter and protector for him. Merle was more of a berserker, and Harry loved to stealth his way through towns leaving the heavy work for Ron, who had taken a liking to the burlier brother.
He knew that his actions weren't always ethical; looting everything, but he eased his conscience by thinking that if he didn't do it, someone else would. Harry would ensure the well-being of his people, and if people wanted to join they now had a safety net to make that happen. Luna was right. She always was.
Daryl usually just answered with a shrug or simple words, so Harry took his silence as a 'yes' and continued. He had already sent three full bags with Kreacher, and was on his fourth and fifth. The days at the Greene farm had given him new family members, but had also changed his plans drastically.
Present time Peverell manor, the pub
Merle was staring, for a long time now, at the door that had not been present a few days before. He knew that with magic things could come and go, and he had seen some crazy shit that was probably beyond even his own grandma, but hell if it did not fascinate him.
So Merle was watching the door intently, like he was waiting for something to happen to it. It was just there like it had always belonged, and the silly little blond had painted the name on some wood: "Deathly Inn", he had seen her do that a few days ago. It seemed to be a joke among the wizards and witches that lived in the big castle, but Merle had shrugged that part off. That really wasn't what worried him.
Nope, it was just that fucking door that had appeared yesterday, and now there was some country music playing softly behind it, that Merle recognised as Johnny Cash. Ron had a blatant obsession with record players, so he guessed that the wizard was the one to blame, but he was hesitant to open the door.
Curiosity would kill him one day. The drugs probably had tried to beat magic to it, but fuck it all; Merle needed to know. Merle pushed the door open by a bit, and then all the way as he looked at the inn.
Ron had told him about a bar that had been decorated by a true bar owner before it all, and it was supposed to be a room for Harry and his family and friends to be able to come together for parties or festivities before death had started walking. That had also been the first reason to build the bigger manor, to host his closest, when they came to visit or wanted to travel a bit. The only international floo that had been connected would spew out people there, except for Lucius, Draco, and Minerva who also had access to his study.
Yes, Merle had been listening. People forgot that about him, but if he wanted to, he could play attention.
The rugged man saw a mop of fiery red hair by the bar now that he had opened the door completely, that had the classical look of an old English pub. The wooden racks behind the bar showcased all kinds of spirits. Some foreign, some even less known than others.
"Now where did I put that crate?" He heard the man mumble, as the redhead was shoving stuff from side to side.
"Got to that stage already?" Merle leaned on the bar, which had been handmade and engraved with the logo that he had seen all around Peverell manor.
"Wha'?" Ron came up from behind the bar and then smiled big as he saw Merle. "Ah, no mate. I shrunk more than I realised, and now I'm looking for Harry's favourite brandy. I've seemed to misplace it, apparently."
"So you're not tending the bar tonight?" Merle inquired with his famous grin.
"You want a drink?" The ginger smiled at him, showing off his years on his face, "You know that you don't need to ask, you know?" Ron opened two beers with a rather strange logo on the somewhat medicinal-like bottle, before he winked and took a good sip of the drink.
"Yeah, well. Blondie made a good point that I should take care with what I'm consuming. Now tha' I've got the little one to take care of, I shouldn' get drunk. Don' want to turn into my pa. Wasn' the best of examples that guy." Merle shrugged, and decided that if it didn't kill Ron, it would probably be safe.
"Bloody hell mate," was all Ron said, as they both nourished their drinks with Cash singing an old favourite from Merle in the background.
"Yeah, well. T's good stuff, Red." Merle nodded, and took another swig from the unknown drink.
"It's called butterbeer. Even minors are allowed a few pints. Practically no alcohol, but even more the flavour. Draco's father owns shares in the brewery, and they got it running again. Decided to give us a few cases for our help."
"Huh," was all Merle said, as Ron led him into a conversation about the drinks, the music, and the new plans for now, letting Merle forget that he had been looking for Hadrian, to ask him his next question from a game that Merle had absolutely not forgotten about.
Present time The Greene farm survivors, watched by Harry and Ron
It was clear to most that Rick had lost it, especially by the onlookers. When the danger alarm had gone off on Harry's protection wards, Harry knew that something must have happened to Carl, as it was too quick to be anything else. With a certain desperation, he hauled himself out of bed, collected Ron on his way, and off they were.
Both ex-child soldiers looked at each other, as they apparated as close to the farm where fire was causing havoc among the group, wands drawn. They did see Carl leave with his father, before they decided to follow them closely. Harry had made up his mind not to help the adults, but children were not to be harmed, if he could help him.
They stayed back, in the woods surrounding the men and women that had fled the barn. As Harry only had a tracker on Carl, he was only able to apparate towards the position the boy was in.
Come evening they found them again, as they had met up with others from the farm. All of them huddled alongside a campfire. Harry tried to find some compassion, but then decided that he couldn't. 'Once, twice, not a fool' was something his trainer had said more than once. Don't retry a move in a fight that didn't already work before.
It had saved his ass in fighting Voldemort, Harry knew. That, and his knife. Courtesy of the goblins. A knife he still had in his boot to this day, no matter where he went.
"I wanted him dead," they heard Rick say to his wife Lori, who had just put the revolver she had been holding away in her pants. "I killed him." The man added.
"We aren't wasting any tears on that bloody wanker," Ron muttered towards Harry, even if that was unnecessary, because of the silencing charms woven into the hoods of their jackets. With them, even with the dark red Ron sported, they were as invisible as they would have been, while wearing the invisibility cloak from Harry. Having Death as a friend could be very useful.
"Yes, but with those actions, he got their whole group in danger." Harry nodded back. They spoke cryptically just in case someone overheard them.
"I'm not happy that I was right." Was all Ron said, as Harry nodded again. His hair was back into his warrior modus, as Luna had called it. She was the one to get Harry addicted to Viking hairstyles, and Ron smiled as he looked towards his best mate. Harry would get a chance for a second life, one way or another.
"Carl put him down." Lori walked away, shaken from the confession that Rick just made, and refused to be touched by the man.
Harry wondered if he had to seize control of the situation, but he decided against it. The woman was just as crazy as her husband.
"Andrea isn't with them." Ron said softly as he counted heads. "The blond." He clarified when Harry shrugged. "Nor the older guy."
"Dale." Harry muttered.
"Yeah, they lost a few people." Ron nodded. Both wizards watched, and followed the group, following their guts on what to do and what not to do.
"Last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark." Rick spoke almost angrily. "We don't have the vehicles; nobody is travelling on foot." He added in a softer voice.
There was some talk among them, especially Maggie and Hershel were debating something, as Rick spoke again.
"No one is going anywhere." Rick's voice took a dangerous tone, and that's when Harry intervened. People needed to choose for themselves, and not follow a mad man because they thought he was the only option. Harry made himself visible, as he walked calmly towards the fire and the group that sat around it.
He ignored the gun that was pointed at him and removed his hood while looking at the group. Rick tried to shout something in anger at him, but Harry beat him to it.
"I was the worst leader ever, right? You've mentioned that before." He took a calming breath, and looked Rick right in the eyes. "Yet I have all my people together, in one piece. You are missing people." His voice was soft, yet hard in a dark way. It wasn't condescending, but it spoke volumes about how he really felt. If anyone would dare, they would see his eyes turn a dangerous green, also dubbed the Killing curse green.
Rick tried to splutter, but Harry silenced him with a upheld hand.
"I am not offering this for you, but anyone who wishes safe passage, I will grant you those towards a small plot around my own grounds. You will be protected but need to pull your own weight and try to see if you can bring something to the table before you enter my grounds. See it as a trial period." He took a small breath and looked at Hershel.
"I am doing this on John's word, for their father. Not for you people personally. Merle is right, y'all don't listen." He shrugged like the teenager he used to be, but shook his head when Lori took the high word.
"So, we would be living next to you, and you expect us to follow you?" She bit out, holding Carl in her hands. "You kidnapped Carol and Sophia."
"No, I took them to safety. They consented. We deliberated, and they agreed. That's anything but kidnapping. They are safe on my grounds." Harry gave away, but his demeanour and voice had not wavered.
"But we are not permitted?" Asked T-Dog, the dark-skinned man, as he rubbed his head and face in despair.
"Eventually, probably." Ron now stood next to Harry, as he pulled his cloak back, while still holding his sword with blood on it, in his hands, painting a dangerous picture. He did do that on purpose.
"Perimeter is clear for now."
"Thank you, Ron." Harry nodded. "It's your own choice, people. You've got five minutes before our ride arrives. No need to tell me why, just step into the car," he looked around. "Or don't. I won't hold it against you."
In the end, nobody stepped into the car, and chose freedom and safety. Harry felt like they were brainwashed. He did see Glenn hesitate, and Hershel as well, but he understood both men better than they themselves probably. Glenn was in a tentative relationship with Maggie, so Harry did not push.
Shane would be disappointed.
