A/N: And here we are, the last of the 2nd act, at least I think so anyway. I am for things to slow down from here on, the whole reason I wanted to write this originally was a a sort of rewrite from the last few chapters of cannon. So it'll probably take even LONGER to get out but ah well.
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Machinations
Sirius leant back in his wooden chair, groaning with the soft pop of his back.
He'd broken into his father's office for this meeting with the incorrigible pranksters of his godson's generation, and oh how boy had it stretched on. These Battle-Cloaks were going to be the death of him, that he was sure of. While he may have the backing of the Ministry and Gringotts, he was no leader and not any kind of project manager. Yet here he was, coordinating supplies, dealing with representatives of both stakeholders and countless other things that needed his immediate attention.
Although, for a man who was kicked out of home before he could properly learn how old families operated, and also imprisoned for twelve years while also an ex-Auror trainee who hated paperwork… He seemed to be getting along, for now.
The twins had earned his respect many times over since they'd started upon this project. Despite being new to business, despite their age and general demeanours. They were born for it, perfectly happy haggling over prices for goods, being cut-throat when needed, and were surprisingly familiar with the darker areas of Diagon Alley and its surrounds. After all, it's where one of his warehouses were after all, away from prying eyes, where deliveries of 'acquired' furs and hides were made through the backdoor.
The ways his family made their money sure were… 'black'. Restoring control over them had also been tiring and time-consuming, though channelling the memory of his grandfather worked quite well. Though that could have been the escaping from Azkaban and its Dementors bit as well. Intimidating was not something he usually associated himself with, hell, even his godson could be more scary when he wanted to be.
It was a shame that Harry had darkened so. The boy he'd met at Hogwarts was every inch his father, stubborn, pig-headed yet so brave. Harry was now… older in the least. Ron's death had affected him more than even he realised, and he saw less of his fathers influence each time he came home for the holidays. He actually saw much more of James's father's influence, Charlus had come of age just before Grindlewald's war, a natural warrior who could shut his heart off frighteningly quickly.
While it was a loving home, James's pranking nature had been a reaction to the strictness of his childhood. They'd relaxed with age, and just as well, as after they had taken him in, it had been a madhouse in the holidays since then.
He blinked suddenly as he realised just how far his wandering thoughts had taken him.
"They were quite excited when they looked over our figures." George said.
"So were we. Remember?" Countered Fred.
"I don't think they thought it would be such a lucrative four percent." He observed, regarding the part of the deal that the Gringotts had struck with the Ministry and WWW that allowed them a small part of the joke-shop. "Though the addition won't be needed boys, if the Auror's can't stop a spell coming at them from directly in front, they're not worth it."
Fred crossed off a bullet-point from the parchment on the desk before them all. "Scratch, one Dragon-hide vest."
"I believe that's all we had partner." Said George with a yawn.
"Good, go get some sleep." Sirius grinned. "Don't want the fifth batch of cloaks falling apart now do we?"
"I think our other partner is funning us Fred."
"So I heard that too?" Replied Fred.
"We shall take our leave then." George rose. "Farewell partner."
"Good tidings sir." Fred added, bowing before they both left the office. Just as Sirius felt the last one leave through the floo, the parchment of talking-points exploded in a shower of fireworks. Scaring the shit out of him, but making him grin all the same.
Sirius, now more awake than before, pulled a sheaf of parchment from a draw. Gringotts had sent him a full audit of the Lestrange Vault, and it was now his task of going through it to see if there was anything that could help his cause, or - if removed - would be a detriment to their enemies. Once decided, they would have to move quickly and remove anything in one trip, lest they be discovered.
Dumbledore had approved of this measure long ago, but hadn't asked about its progress at the last meeting of the Order. Sirius had the distinct impression that he was showing his age more these days, at least, he looked weaker each time he saw the Headmaster.
When he'd shared his and Amelia's findings in the last meeting, he'd looked especially grave, Voldemort seemed to be amassing an even greater force than in the last war. And there was only so much manpower available to the British Ministry of Magic, the Battle-Cloaks that were being delivered to the Auror Corps looked to be more important than any of them initially realised.
Realising he was becoming distracted again, he gave himself a little shake and rose to make some tea before tackling the pile of paper before him.
…
Moonlight shone through the sliver of stone that acted as a facsimile of a window, unbreakable runes surrounded the cell, embedded into the stone.
"Tell me where it is." Voldemort's rasping voice was threatening in its own right, yet the emaciated man in front of him simply smiled benignly.
"So full of vigor, yet so very broken." The emaciated man still held a glimmer of his good looks and charm, evidenced by his winning smile. "So this is what has replaced me in my decades of exile, replaced me as the Champion of Wizard-kind."
Voldemort let out an angry hiss. "We share the same goalsss, your own followers will join me once I take ownership of the wand." His own face betraying his frustration despite his own attempt at the charm Tom Riddle had once possessed.
"I shall tell you, of course, though you shall never possess it." The emaciated man smirked. "Albus's only weakness comes from his infatuation with love, I managed to convince him I loved him for a time. You cannot do the same. He will destroy you."
Voldemort's wand hand twitched involuntarily, much to the imprisoned man's amusement.
"He put me in my own prison instead of killing me, his love for me is now torturous in its refusal to end my life. He took the wand though, and probably uses it with restraint." The man grimaced at that, like the wand was being wasted.
"Dumbledore." Voldemort breathed
The emaciated man grinned, eyes brighter than they had any right to be. "Yes, even with whatever followers I have left, you will lose."
"A dead man, has no followers." Voldemort's eyes glittered as he pointed his yew wand at the prisoner. "Goodbye, Grindelwald. Avada Kedavra!"
Harry had awoken violently, not quite feeling as sick as the last time he'd had a dream about Voldemort. Though still frustrated at the seemingly increasing amount of incursions into his parents' killer's mind these days. A wry thought struck him about a connection between destroying Horcruxes and the effect upon the ones that were left and if that would lead to more nightmares before he dismissed it with a small shake of the head. His self-study of Occlumency would just have to continue.
Upon looking out the window to see faint blue light in the darkness, he resolved to make some use of some free time to work on his transfiguration. Spending a few hours in the Room - while Hermione worked on her essays - practicing the art of transfiguration upon objects that were flying at him. In effect, it was a mix of Charms and Transfiguration but the distinction wasn't important. He only suffered a couple of minor scrapes in the end.
Later in the morning found him sat atop 'his' bed in the Hospital wing, Hermione in the basic, barely comfortable chair beside it reading the Prophet.
He began to fiddle with his wand before an "Oh" from his girlfriend gave him a chance at some respite from waiting for Madame Pomfrey to emerge from her office.
"Something interesting?"
She began to read from a point around halfway through the paper which, from his experience, had a page or more dedicated to the Wizengamot. The 'Wizengamot Weekly' contained articles from the happenings in the highest decision-making body in the British Magical Community. Mostly it summarised proposed bills and their progress, and criminal trials and their outcomes. It was also as dry as their muggle counterparts, not something children and teens usually indulged in reading.
"The Bill caused much uproar in the Wizengamot Chambers, most notable were the powers to strip convicted Deatheaters of their titles and lands. If suspected Deatheaters do not attend their summons after three attempts, they will also forfeit the sum total of their worldly gold to the Ministry. Amelia Bones, Minister for Magic, as quoted from her speech to the Body: 'To simply attend your summons and prove your innocence is no difficult matter, if you have nothing to hide, you will have nothing to fear. Trials must still prove beyond reasonable doubt of guilt, to not attend while we at war, proclaims your own guilt.'"
"Well..." He said after a moment's silence. "How will they decide who's a suspected Deatheater?"
She hummed. "It's a bit vague but…"
"She's got some stones on her." He observed.
"I prefer, brave." Hermione countered.
"So you're scared of her too?" He smirked.
"No!"
He glanced sideways at her, just as Pomfrey exited her office. "You should be, I felt like I was being told off by my mum when I met her over the summer. Actually…" His eyes widened as his brain threw up an answer to the earlier question. "What if I showed them my memory of the Graveyard and who was there? Hard to ignore that."
Before Hermione could answer, a familiar voice interrupted them. "Are you planning to throw the kneazle amongst the doxies again Mister Potter?"
He turned to face her fully to see a disapproving look upon her face, hands on her hips. Her usual look whenever he ended up in the Infirmary due to some accident or near-death scrape. "Aren't I always?"
Her lips twitched upwards before pressing on. "What brings you here today?"
"Apparently I can get my eyesight fixed." He replied flatly, anger still simmering at Dumbledore needless obfuscation. A part of him was mildly confused at the reason behind the Healer's own silence on the matter though. Of course some students wore glasses as a fashion statement, there was only one other that he knew of who wore them as a necessity.
Madam Pomfrey noticed his tone. "Only if it's a simple refraction error Mister Potter, if not… there isn't much magic can do I'm afraid."
He calmed down under her gaze, the Healer he'd come to know over the years wouldn't intentionally keep something from him. Health-wise at least. "Let's see then." He said, taking off his glasses.
In response, her - now slightly blurry - wand began to dance between his eyes, the motions far from their usual pattern. After a minute or two, during which he struggled not to laugh at his girlfriend who was visibly restraining herself from peppering the Healer with questions.
"Well." She said, withdrawing her wand. "It is something I can fix now, if you like?" His quick nod was something she obviously expected as she got started right away. "Miss Granger? Would you be able to help us for a moment?"
Hermione stood instantly.
"Good, good. Now, Mister Potter, I can restore an average range of clarity, or you could choose your own. For example, you could decide upon an amount of far or near-sightedness as your preference." She turned her gaze to Hermione. "Like Miss Granger did years ago when she came to me under the effect of a Tooth-Growing Hex."
Hermione's eyes widened as she blushed slightly at being caught, reminding him forcefully of the last night they'd spent in the Room of Requirement. As the Healer turned her attention back to him, he hurriedly forced his thoughts elsewhere quickly. "Ok."
"Now, stay still and I'll show you a baseline."
…
An hour later and they sat upon a long outside of Hagrid's Cabin, in front of them a fire burned merrily in the stone ringed pit the Groundskeeper had been using ever since they'd known him.
"Why are you staring at me?"
A year ago, he would have looked away hurriedly and into the fire instead. Now however, he continued to look at her in wonder. "It's like… seeing you for the first time really." The instant her frown appeared, he struggled for further words. "I mean… you've always been in focus from, well… really close." His smirk, begot her slightly bashful one. "And from a very specific distance. But now it's from… everywhere?" He struggled for more words, her rapt attention didn't help matters. "I've never been able to see your eyes properly from here." He gestured at the two meters or so between them. He flailed around some more before taking a note from Ron's book. "You're fucking gorgeous."
Before she could reply, a familiar voice interrupted them, as did the heavy footfalls. "Yer ain't never been one fer words Harry, I'd quit before she thumps yer."
He turned to grin at his oldest friend. "Hey Hagrid."
Hagrid trudged over and sat upon a huge stump obviously meant for him, taking a branch the same length as Hermione and poked at the logs in the fire. "Good ta see ye both again, what brings ye both down this evening?"
"Fresh air really." He answered as she nodded. "We haven't come see you a much as we should have this year Hagrid-"
Hagrid waved a meaty hand. "Don' worry about tha', it's been a busy year fer us all."
"Trouble in the forest?"
"Nah, Grawpy's been helpin' weed it out." Hagrid beamed. "He's come a long way he has."
"Do the Centaurs give him any trouble?" Asked Hermione.
"Nah, The Ministry aint restricting their land no more so they aren't as riled. Still won't accept Firenze back in their herd but I can' do much about that." Hagrid looked unhappy at that before he did a double-take at Harry. "Yeh lose your glasses or summat Harry?"
He blinked. I should probably start to get used to that. "Nah I got my eyes corrected, after someone finally told me I could." He added grumbling.
"Aye, sorry 'bout tha', I thought you'd already know." Said a bashful Hagrid. "After all, yeh father was pretty attached to his."
Both teens were surprised at that. "Why?" He asked.
"Dunno fer certain. Sirius said somethin' abou' them being enchanted and all tha'."
"How do people usually enchant their glasses?" Asked Hermione.
"I know Wilhelmina 'ad hers enchanted to see tracks easier, don' wanna go wandering around blindly with less than three limbs left." They all chuckled at that. "Sometimes it's to see in the dark without a wand, or to help sense the intent of creatures." Hagrid replied, levitating a log onto the fire with a flick of his umbrella.
"Sense intent? Like if someone is going to attack you?" He asked, intrigued.
Hagrid scratched his beard in thought. "I suppose yeh could do it like that, after all, all magic needs intent to take form. Like a Demiguise's sight I reckon, wish I 'ad one." He added wistfully.
"What if there was and you've never seen it?" He asked with a smirk. Hermione fought a smile.
Hagrid smiled at the joke. "Nah, Yeh can see 'em when they move."
He shared a look with Hermione once the chuckles had died down. Such an ability would be extremely helpful, the only question was how to actually enchant them. Or even if they could. "We'll look into it." Replied Hermione while he was distracted by possibilities and wondering about his father's glasses.
…
The evening brought with it a surprise in the form of summons to McGonagall's office. Which he attended, leaving Hermione and Neville to their Herbology homework. Upon entering her office, he found a large black shaggy dog awaiting him. He'd barely been able to shout a greeting before the dog bounded at him, turning back into human form in time to hug him.
"Sirius!" He exclaimed. Not noticing the twinkling eyes of the deputy Headmistress in the background. "What're you doing here?"
Sirius grinned and released him. "Is there a rule that says I can't visit my godson whenever I damn well feel like it?"
"I highly doubt anything as simple as a rule would make a difference Sirius." McGonngall observed wryly
The man in question gave a bark of laughter. "And that's why you're deputy-head Minerva, the eye for rule-breakers hasn't dulled at all." McGonagall's lips pursed but turned upwards all the same. "Now Harry, know anywhere we could have a private word?"
He threw a questioning look at the abrupt tone change but nodded. "Sure."
A short journey later - made far shorter through the use of hidden passageways - found them in front of the Tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, much to the confusion of Sirius. After his requisite pacing, and the door appeared - to Sirius's childlike glee - they entered to find a cosy sitting room with two armchairs adjacent to a roaring fire.
"How in the hell did you find this room?" Sirius finally barked once they seated themselves.
He shrugged, mental asking the room for matching pouffles to the squawk of his godfather, and placed his feet up. "Dobby did, and Dumbledore in his own way. This is where we hold D.A. meetings." He waved a hand.
Sirius looked suitably impressed and jumped on the change in topic. "How are they going by the way? Amelia was quite impressed when she heard."
"Yeah good, Neville just keeps getting better, a good bunch can do corporeal Patronuses now so that's something. All the new members are making it harder though, but we're managing."
"Slytherin's?" Asked Sirius, sitting straighter.
"I mean, yeah, but it's more the numbers, I haven't paid much attention to the small number of Slytherin's that attend. They stay out of the way mostly."
"In a club dominated by the other three houses, do you expect anything different?"
"Fair point Padfoot."
"Does this club foster unity among the houses?" Asked Sirius with a grin.
He shrugged. "It's not something I stress, they'll figure it out when we run exercises."
"I might want to work on that more Harry." The lines on Sirius's face deepened in the shadow of the flickering flames. "Andi was in Slytherin, and the Black Family are involved with a few of their families through business and other… enterprises." He saw the look on Harry's face, and waved a hand. "You'll deal with it all when you're seventeen. Either way, you may have more… well, not supporters as such, but less enemies in that house than you think."
He sighed as yet more things to think about. "Sirius, I'm not building an army, I just want everyone to survive what's coming."
"No… But you ARE training a force. How many close friends are in it?"
He blinked at the non-sequitur but answered anyway. "I mean… a few? There's more that I'm on good terms with but-"
"That's my point! Harry, you don't realise who you are to those that don't know you well. All of those that came to learn from you, WILL follow you wherever you lead. They wouldn't be there otherwise." Sirius, sighed. "Look, things are happening, coming to a head. You know my meetings with Amelia."
Harry simply nodded, uncomfortable with the tone of conversation.
"The evidence of something big is piling up, the Ministry is hamstrung with all of the people that cannot be trusted. Voldemort is gathering more and more followers." Sirius exhaled again, looking grave. "Things aren't looking good, and we have no idea when he will make a move to seize power. Our only saving grace is that he hasn't discovered that we know about his Horcruxes."
He nodded, agreeing. "We know what we're looking for though, we found the Diadem by accident - in this room actually. So that makes four, Dumbledore reckons the next one is Hufflepuffs Cup, and that leaves Tom himself and… something else, the old man thinks it's the snake, not that he's ever seen it but there we go."
Sirius meanwhile had gone stock still. "Hufflepuff's cup?"
"Yeah, why?"
Sirius visibly struggled to find words right off the bat, his mouth opening and closing a few times before words actually left his lips. "With the Lestrange brothers dead, their vault fell to Bellatrix, and Bellatrix was… folded back into the Black family. The Goblins, well, found a loophole to grant us access to what would normally be her private vault."
"Aren't Gringotts stickers for protocol and following the rules, protecting their clients and so on?" Harry asked, remembering something Hermione had said at one point during their countless research nights.
"Not if you piss them off apparently." Sirius observed with a shrug. "Either way, there IS a cup of sorts in it. I'll need a description of it to be certain."
He thought quickly, grimacing at the answer he came up with. "I suppose we better see the old man about it."
Sirius gave a commiserating sort of look before rising to his feet. "I had hoped to simply see how you were getting on this year but-"
"Business first, yeah."
Sirius smiled sadly yet proudly, before blinking. "What happened to your glasses?"
He gave his godfather a side-long look as they exited. "I only just found out I didn't really need them."
The elder of the pair visibly struggled for words before his face suddenly aged decades in seconds. "Sorry Harry… It… It just felt like spending time with James." He gave a shy smile. "It's not fair to you, of course, but with Remus… the three of us feels like-"
"Yeah, I know." He finished, reminded violently of Ron's absence. Of all the times during the year where he'd glanced at an empty chair, an empty space once occupied or a quip never to be spoken again. To those on the outside, it looked as if Neville had filled the gap in their threesome. But this couldn't be further from the truth, Ron would never be replaced, despite his faults. Neville was his own person, something becoming more and more obvious as the year progressed.
It was amazing what a new wand could do. What discovering a connection could do, be it a wand or person. Yet again reminded of Hermione waiting for him in the Common Room, he smiled to himself before making a note to apologise for taking longer than intended.
On their way to the Headmaster's Office, he spied a familiar head of hair almost at the lowest level of the maze of staircases. The cultured gait told him all he needed to know of the student's identity. The fact that Malfoy seemed to be heading towards the Great Hall was a bit odd - given the time - but he didn't think much of it as they exited at their intended floor.
…
He'd just indulged in a fifth Liquorice Snap and was about to enjoy a sixth, immobilising the sharp-toothed sweet with a small gesture of his hand before Sirius withdrew his head from Pensieve. "It's the same one." Sirius said curtly.
He jumped to his feet, while Dumbledore pondered this development thoughtfully.
"Can we get it?" He asked his godfather who nodded.
"We can only surmise that it is the original, and not an expensive forgery, yet alone a Horcrux." Dumbledore warned.
Such a warning perplexed him. "Then Sirius can get it for us and we can find out?"
"And give away that we know of his secret? We still have one more to track down." Dumbledore countered.
"We agreed that it's probably the snake!" He argued, frustrated with what he felt like was unnecessary caution. "Every other relic is accounted for, let's just grab the bloody cup and be done with it!"
Sirius watched the byplay with wide eyes as the oldest of them inspected his blackened, wasting forearm, ignoring his protege's irreverent language. "Perhaps we do not have the time required any longer." He turned to Sirius. "Take Nymphadora and retrive it tomorrow, bring it straight back to this office." His tone brooked no nonsense and Sirius nodded firmly in the face of it.
With the barest of pleasantries exhanchange, he and Sirius made their way back to the McGonagall's office. The castle was absent of students with curfew approaching and silence filled the rapidly cooling air in the corridors they tred.
"How's Remus?"
His godfather jumped very slightly. "He's getting by."
"Please tell him you're giving him shit about Tonks." He grinned. "I saw them at Christmas."
Sirius grimaced. "I have, but I wouldn't expect anything. Remus has always been… not really receptive to that sort of thing."
So he was serious then?
"No Harry, it's true. I will not be able to have a family, you must. If it's one wish I have, it is to be Uncle Moony to your children. Do that for me."
"Why?"
"You remember how James and I befriended him?" Harry nodded. "We were the first friends he'd ever had, and we gave him no choice in the matter. James saw something in him, something more than just finding out where he disappeared to every full moon. He was always so studious, but after a few years we realised it was in response to his affliction. He would always try to withdraw as that time of the month approached, not that we would let him."
"From what I could tell, he'd been a Werewolf for so long that he didn't see himself as the wizard he was, and all that entailed. James would moon over Lily, I would be chasing whatever blonde I saw, and Remus would go to the Library. He hates himself, or more the damage he could cause. I've never seen him as furious as the time James told him about my prank on Snivellus. I'm pretty sure I shit myself."
He considered his godfather's words. "Because he might've spread his affliction."
Sirius nodded solemnly. "Finding a nice woman and settling down is the same sort of risk to him. There's so little known about the afflicted - apart from how to kill them - that he won't allow even the chance to pass it on to a child."
They walked on in silence as he processed this. Remus's reasoning seemed a bit more… legitimate, coming from Sirius's mouth rather than his own.
"I agree with him to be honest." He said finally, not seeing Sirius's surprised glance. "It's just… sad."
"Yeah." They spied the mahogany door to McGonagall's office and Sirius spoke again. "I did intend to have a longer chat, you know, and maybe cross wands with the only legitimate Defence teacher in the school."
He couldn't help but grin shyly at that. "Things have changed. I could probably put you down now, maybe not Remus."
They reached the door as Sirius snorted, both leaning against the frame, unwilling to part. "You sound confident."
Internally he struggled for the right words to summarise that whole thing with the locket without looking deranged or crazy. Until he remembered this was his godfather he was talking to. "To get… rid of the Locket I tried something, just to see if it was possible…" He glanced back at Sirius to find him listening raptly, before looking away and pressing on. "The-" He glanced around to make sure the corridor was deserted. "-green one… It worked, and ever since then I… know how much to put into spells, how much effort, intent or whatever. It's easier now to cast big spells."
Sirius's counternace now looked as serious as he'd ever seen. "So just so I understand. The greater ease with which magic now comes to you was a result of learning about yourself, RATHER than the illusion of power dark spells bring?"
He nodded, slightly confused by the emphasis of the question.
Sirius leant back and smiled, looking relieved. "Good. I'm glad you already know that now. My brother, unfortunately, never realised that." He then rapped in the lion-shaped doorknocker, withdrawing his hand quickly as a bronze paw swatted at his hand.
"Enter!" Came a familiar voice from within.
Harry squared his shoulders. "Thanks for dropping by Sirius."
Godfather pulled Godson into a hug. "Anytime Harry, now, get back to your girlfriend."
…
Sirius stood in the now familiar opulence of Gringotts main lobby, Tonks at his side in surprisingly casual clothing. Tall Dragonhide boots met faded jeans, her original red Auror robe - not the new ones being supplied to the Corps - were worn loosely, occasionally flashing a faded Duran Duran t-shirt.
He tried to push his nerves down and out of sight as he caught the Head Teller's eye and moved over. Asking the Goblins to itemise everything in Bellatrix's vault, and entering it himself were two very different things - no matter how vague the laws were.
Nymphie was with him though as backup, not that he could see her as anything but Andi's little girl.
The last of the good ones in the family left it seems. Until he produced any children that is, but that possibility was as remote as Remus being cured of Lycanthropy right now.
A gravelly voice interrupted his thoughts. "Lord Black."
That drew his attention up. "Head Teller Ironhide! Pleased to see me?"
The aged Goblin, tilted his head slightly, the most animated he ever got in all the time he'd visited Gringotts. "When conducting business, of course. Now… I'm not so sure."
He kept his response to a smirk, an outright snort would have been considered rude and disrespectful. "Here." He handed a letter sealed with the Black Crest pressed into wax. His request was far too sensitive to be spoken aloud.
Long fingernails slit the letter open and suspicious eyes narrowed as they scanned its contents. "Very well."
After a wild cart ride and familiar passing of the chained Dragon via a cacophony of noise, they reached the Lestrange Vault. He looked around in interest, his own vault was on the floor of the chamber that held the oldest, largest and most protected Vaults in this branch. Given that Goblins either didn't use or know about expansion charms, he was always surprised that this chamber had two levels. If they were all the same size, he couldn't see how they would fit together.
His long-held question was answered with a swipe of Gripshaw's finger. The Lestrange vault, while aesthetically similar, was easily half the size of his own. It was nevertheless filled with gold, silver and bronze in the form of coinage and other trinkets. There was little-to-none of the personal items and effects that littered his own vault in a way that made him feel uneasy.
"Are there any enchantments, apart from your own, in this vault?" He asked the Goblins guide. Careful to be as specific as possible given how Goblins were experts in double-speak.
Gripshaw bared his teeth in a vicious facsimile of a smile. "There are, upon all the fake gold and silver are what you would call modified Flagrante and Gemino Charms."
"Ah." He turned to Tonks. "Flagrante?"
She shrugged. "Some sort of flame spell is my guess, I assume you've had plenty of practice with the other one?"
He smirked as multiple memories flew before his eyes. "It sure taught Fat Gale a lesson, when his pies multiplied each time he tried to shove one into his loud-mouth gob."
She simply rolled her eyes and stepped forward into the gloom, wand alight.
"Wait." He told her, before turning to the Goblin once again. "Gripshaw, what magic can we use in here?"
For a fraction of a moment, the Goblin's eyes looked disappointed, but it was gone before he could comment. "Those that share her blood can cast anything that does not affect the vault's contents."
"Alright." Dumbledore must've known about that, hence Tonks. "Remember what it looks like Nymphie?"
She whirled around, very nearly grazing a golden suit of armour. "Don't call me that! Twit!" She snapped, hair darkening by the second.
"That's a yes. Alright Tonksie, sing out when you find it." And with that they both fanned out, wand light pointed into every crevice they could find. The white light reflecting gold and silver onto the walls in a way that made the rough hewn walls shine.
With the dangers of the enchantments all around them, and the small size of the cup, it was slow going. Gringotts wasn't going to help them, they'd made that clear. Apparently the loophole they'd found wasn't big enough for them to retrieve the cup themselves. A 'conflict of interest' was how they'd put it, though what this exactly WAS, they wouldn't say.
He was grateful all the same though, it allowed him to help much more than he had the year previous. Being cleared of the charges against him had helped immensely as well, the many eyewitnesses of him fighting for the right side had swung things in his favour so much so that he didn't need his godson's testimony. Fudge, trying anything to remain in power had also worked in his favour this time around. The bastard.
"Oi paws." He looked to her at that, and found her directing her wand light towards a tiny ledge in the wall, and in that ledge, was a tiny golden cup with handles on either side.
His heart leapt, despite his caution. "Alright." He moved closer with care, cursing the precariousness of how most of the vaults' contents were stacked. Infuriatingly enough, the little ledge was far out of reach, past a maze of suits of armour of varying colours.
"Looks like one of us is levitating the other over to it." Tonks observed dispassionately.
"Just conjure a rod with a hook on the end." He countered.
It was met with an eye-roll from his partner in crime. "Magical interference numpty, you forget that lecture?"
He blinked in surprise, he hadn't missed a day of his Auror training. Apart from James's stag party. "I had extended leave." He finished with a raised eyebrow, goading her, something he still found entertaining ever since she'd been young.
"You are not going to make me explain it here and now." She fumed. "Quit doing your chihuahua impression for a moment."
He gave an exaggerated sigh, relishing every minute outside of Azkaban and Grimmauld Place. "I've got you." He said before point-casting at her silently, she squealed slightly in surprise as she suddenly rose into the air.
"Warn me first idiot!"
He said nothing, directing her gently over the nearest suit of armour, barely glancing at a skull wearing a golden crown before resuming the level of focus needed. Slowly, she floated towards the wall and closer to the cup.
That's when the problems started.
"Stop wiggling so much." He directed.
"Then keep me balanced Siri!" Her voice rising an octave betraying her nerves.
He refrained from replying and tried to keep his focus and keep her stable, but it was not to be. One of her flailing legs brushed against an obsidian suit of armour which instantly multiplied. With a hiss she withdrew her foot, her boot smoking after short contact with the enchanted metal.
Holding down his panic he moved her at a faster pace until she touched the wall with some force. Out of the corner of his eye, the multiplied metal formed a pile that teetered, threatening to collapse on him.
"Got it!" He inspected her properly and saw the tiny cup within her grasp.
At that moment, the pile collapsed with a deafening screech and clanging where it met the stone floor. Forcing him to leap back out of the way landing hard on the ground, his control broke for a split second, letting Tonks drop into a collection of silverware. Her shriek returned his attention to task instinctively levitating her away from the scalding metal and roughly flung her away towards the door of the Vault.
He hissed as his decision cost him the second or two needed to escape the growing pile of gold and silver. Knives, spoons and plates landed on top of his body with a crash, the metal burning through his pants in moments. His yell of pain was cut short as he himself was flung towards the door by an unseen force.
He and Tonks scrambled out of the vault and the door swung shut with a heavy thud, instantly cutting off the horrible clanging and crashing of its contents. Breathing hard, he remained on the ground, groaning against the wall.
She stood over him, wand in hand. Gripshaw observed, unaffected from where they'd left him. He took the moment to take stock: His denim was burnt away in patches, revealing the singed skin underneath, his Dragon-hide boots had fared better, but he would need to vanish them when he got home. Higher up his legs, torso and upper-limbs had escaped damage due to his Battlecloak.
I'm buying those boys a drink when I see them next.
"Can't wait till I get issued one of those." Tonks stated, waving her wand towards the cloak. She then dropped to a squat and inspected his wounded legs.
"Should've impervioused myself." He muttered as he watched her begin to attend to each burn by separating the fabric from the skin then numbing each area. "Idiot." He added in self-chastisement.
"Nah, you're alright." Tonks replied distractedly, her focus moving to his other leg.
He looked to their Goblin guide instead of watching his melted skin being cut from denim. "Thanks Gripshaw. Client confidentiality?"
The Goblin gave a fierce grin and nodded. "You are lucky that your joking ways are infamous at this branch, Lord Black."
…
At Malfoy Manor, a house elf popped into a cellar. "Miss Black! Toppy apologies for interrupting, but the orb is flashing!"
Bellatrix Lestrange growled at the interruption to her play. The heavily mutilated man, naked and chained to the floor, gave a gasp as she dropped onto his still engorged cock fully. Her wild eyes, suddenly fearful and wide in shock.
"Fetch me a robe." She snapped, rising to her feet. The man groaned in response and she twisted, slashing her wand viciously at him with a grunt, the cut nearly beheading the man where he lay.
Blood pooled on the flagstones as she dressed quickly and silently, before apparating away.
…
Sirius, meanwhile, was suffering under the attentions of one Madame Pomfrey.
Mildly, he noted that his bed was directly next to the one which had been earmarked as his godson's bed. His thoughts were a bit slower from the pain potion but he was glad to be awake and able to process the events of the day. Prison had taught him patience, but couldn't cure the restlessness in his genes.
Tonks had returned to the Ministry, in fear of the Matron no doubt. But the thought of seeing Harry again cheered him up. They hadn't had much of a chance to talk, and he wanted to help where he could. His godson may have grown up too fast, but he hadn't seen as much of life as he had. Perhaps he couldn't guide anyone on the RIGHT way to do things, but at least he knew what the wrong way looked like.
"I hope you look after that boy Black." Said Pomfrey suddenly.
He blinked. "I try… I'm afraid it's… complicated."
She hummed in agreement as she watched new skin form over one of his burns. "When the six of them came back that morning it was… disturbing." She continued talking as her wand waved and potions were dripped onto charred skin. "Normally he resists treatment at first but gives in with enough encouragement. That morning he flat out refused until after the Weasley boy's body was brought back. Stayed near the doors as I treated the rest of them. For a normal person I would have attributed it to shock but… For Harry it was… guilt."
She then met his gaze accusingly, something he'd never seen in her eyes before. The look chilled his already numb bones. "What has that boy seen Black? How could a boy stubbornly ignore the after-effects of the Torture curse MULTIPLE TIMES? All medical literature on treating those effects describe it as debilitating, and worse than the curse itself in terms of the longer lasting symptoms?"
His mouth moved of its own accord. "He's… been all he can rely on long before Hogwarts I think. At least now he has Hermione."
The Matron's eyes narrowed, then shifted into introspection. "I almost suspected something, but I didn't want to ask him to drop by like I should have. I didn't want to give him the idea that he wasn't well, he's quiet enough as it is."
"It seems we're all partly guilty of letting Harry down."
"Because he's Harry Potter." She added.
Silence stretched on between them as she went back to taking care of his wounds one by one.
"We all have to face Lily in the afterlife." He said. "You won't be alone."
The Matron smiled gently at that. "She didn't give birth in your office though."
An hour or so later, the boy in question entered through the double doors with Hermione by his side. Looking serious in a way that elevated his own heart rate. Harry glanced at Madame Pomfrey and greeted her like an old friend, albeit from a distance. She retreated to her office, giving them some privacy.
"What happened?" Harry asked, his green eyes taking in his bare legs.
"She left a few sneaky spells for us, nothing too bad."
Harry's eyebrow rose. "Looking more like a dalmation now Sirius."
He snorted. "Annoying, but I'll live. I'll see Ame-the Minister tomorrow instead."
Harry's face grew serious. "I'll need to give you a message for her before you go then." He cast a spell in the office's direction before continuing. "He knows that someone was in her vault, he's sent her to check."
"How do you know?" He challenged.
At this Harry looked slightly sheepish and Hermione answered for him. "He hasn't been sleeping too well, this one."
"With each one we destroy it he's worse, the connection is opening up and Occlumency only helps so much." He added. "Whenever he's feeling particularly emotional, I get a glimpse of whatever is going on at that time."
He had no words, this was far from the rare nighttime incursions he'd heard about. Harry had been incredibly cagey about his dreams, or sight, or whatever he was meant to call them. Not that he'd go blabbing about seeing into Voldemort's mind if it happened to him. The sadistic being that faced James and Lily at wandpoint was the last person he wanted to know so intimately.
As godfather, he didn't like the idea of an increase of these incidents happening. There wasn't much he could do apart from what he'd already done, and to see to Harry's emotional wellbeing. As best he could at least, given his own emotional wellbeing.
"I'll let her know." He finally replied. "When he realises what we took… I'm afraid things will begin to happen quickly." He caught sight of Hermione's face. "I don't know exactly what will happen. But his revenge is always quick, and ruthless. And we don't know what he's been planning at all, even our… valued spy doesn't know." He finished with a sneer at the mention of Snape.
"He's watching Malfoy." Harry supplied. "Which is good I suppose, I've barely seen him all year."
"That doesn't bode well Harry."
"I know."
With that, the three of them talked of inconsequential things, much like they'd done over the summer and holidays. With each story and jest, he was able to push away the dread of what was to come. It all felt the same, the mood in the air, the attacks and the lack of solid information.
Yet again, he was in the wings of a Potter the subject of a prophecy. But he'd learnt from the first time, he would be there, he would die to keep them safe, like he should have done the first time. Harry might be his godson, but it didn't feel like that. It felt like James and Lily were by his again, Harry may be quieter and Hermione less fiery in temper, but it was easy to draw the comparison.
He would need to talk to Remus when he got home, they needed to see if Voldemort had the Vampire's and Werewolves on his side. His friend, quiet and non assuming, would blend in far easier than he could. His friend would never see it that way, but his condition made him a fearsome duelist. He would be fine.
…
Sirius watched as Harry enjoyed the feel of Fawkes's warm feathers, before grabbing Hermione's hand to overcome her shyness. His godson's mouth formed a rare, genuine smile when she first felt a Phoenixes feathers and her face lit up with awe. It wasn't often that he got to see Harry smile like that, it almost felt like he was intruding on something private and peaceful. The only issue was the task that hung over the room like a toxic cloud.
The equally ominous, yet comforting dim light of dusk shone through the windows above the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore - in the midst of explaining what they were about to - noticed his distraction, and followed his gaze. Ancient eyes crinkled further, and his beard twitched, a weary smile. "It seems he had taken my advice to heart, as it were."
"Which was?"
"After Tom's resurrection, I simply reminded him that he will always have friends here, that he will never be alone."
"Not if I can bloody well help it."
Dumbledore turned his gaze upon him, studying him for a moment. "Would you have been ready, fourteen years ago? To take him in?"
He quickly swallowed his immediate answer in favor of a more honest one. "No… I would've figured it out eventually though."
The old man didn't answer, considering his answer before bringing things to order, looking more downcast than before. Ignoring the old man's odd behaviour, he shifted his gaze back to the teens who looked to be having a quiet argument about something. The fact that all he could hear was a muted buzzing when he looked in their direction was evident of a 'Muffliato' at work.
Eventually they reached a compromise that she didn't look too happy about, and the buzzing dissipated.
Harry turned to them. "It's her turn to get rid of one." He stated it with such surprising resolution that he didn't even think to question why.
Dumbledore, however, held his godson's defiant gaze for a full minute before agreeing. With his nod, Harry summoned the Sorting Hat with a hand holding it out for Hermione. Her face set into a fierce mein as she reached within the leathery folds and with slightly widened eyes, withdrew the silver sword from within.
He watched the whole thing mutely, transfixed. It never struck him just how important the people he'd become close with were. The mythical Sword of Godric Gryffindor was merely another tool to Harry and Dumbledore, its significance wasn't lost on Hermione though, from the look upon her face.
"It's light." Was her only remark, as she flipped it over, inspecting it.
Harry snorted. "With the amount of books you carry a day, it could be twice the size and you'd be fine."
She rolled her eyes but favoured him with a fond look.
It's like the pages of a history book made real. He thought wryly.
"Step back Sirius." Dumbledore's low mutter broke any further thoughts. As the Headmaster gave his wand a flick, grimacing slightly with pain as his blackened hand followed command. A simple wooden stool appeared closer to the teens and a small golden cup floated over and settled itself upon it as it formed.
He stepped back down the stairs to the lower lever with him, and withdrew his wand in the face of the unknown.
Time paused as Hermione set herself as Harry fidgeted against the desk.
Then she took a step towards the innocently-looking cup, raising the sword infinitesimally.
Time reasserted itself with a vengeance as an smoky, oily cloud burst from the cup with barely a sound. He watched Harry catch her as she was pushed back by the ferocity of angry magic. Startlingly normal hazel eyes shone from the mass, inspecting Hermione, before laughing, riddled with mirth. "A simple sword won't be enough for me, girl."
She took a tentative step forward, face set.
"Ha! You've got some stones, girl. But what happens when you hit me and nothing happensss?" The apparition's eyes shone with mirth, but tracked the sword nonetheless. "A failure." It purred. "And everyones going to see it, forever, they'll know you failed." She stopped in place.
Movement drew his attention as Harry moved closer to her, whispering something into her ear before a lance of magic from the cup slammed him back into the desk. Hermione whirled about in shock, taking in Harry who was slumped on the floor against the desk.
He watched them share a look, communicating silently despite the grimace of pain on his face.
She turned back, a snarl twisting her features, transferring the sword to her left and taking out her wand. He glanced at Dumbledore to find the man's eyes widening in surprise. She muttered something, and a bluish liquid-esque substance flowed from her wand, encompassing the Horcrux, trapping it.
Her dark eyes grew darker as the blue substance and the black mass fought each other with the voice of an oddly younger sounding Tom Riddle keeping up a constant stream of vile, dissuading words.
He watched in awe as Hermione's magic fought with Voldemort's. He'd had no idea this was possible, let alone that she was capable of such a thing. Not that he knew anything particular about Horcruxes to begin with, apart from them being powerful and malevolent magical artifacts. A piece of magic capable of torturing those with their fears. Insidious was the word.
A flash drew his attention, Hermione's spell was failing, weakening. What the spell was, and what it was meant to do was lost upon him. Perhaps a spell she'd found? Or a jury-rigged combination of multiple?
Voldemort's voice grew louder, the oily mass grew larger and more ominous until it exploded back into being. It cackled in the face of her failure and his heart broke at her expression. Beside him, Dumbledore took a step forward before halting.
Harry rose, moving close to her, and whispered something into her ear with his left hand upon her shoulder. Whatever he said had steeled her resolve, her face hardening as she stowed her wand, moving the sword into her right.
Harry stepped away from her, wand pointed at the Horcrux.
"They. will. die." The Horcrux's voice rasped, the heavy sound echoed around the office, settling deep in his bones.
His godson's eyes seemed to glow after that. "Debilito Elido." He growled.
There was no light, no flash to signify a spell had taken hold. There was only the feel of the air in the room tightening impossibly, oppressive in nature. He gasped as It nearly forced the air from his lungs.
The oily mass shrank as if being crushed on all sides. He recognised the spell, but had never seen any use for it, apparently his godson had.
Quickly, the writhing dark mass was forced back into the cup with Harry's magic holding it there. The effort of it evidenced by his godson's heavy breathing, and the sweat upon his brow. Hermione took a tentative first step towards the cup, than a stronger one as she raised the sword high. With a glance at Harry, she plunged the sword just as he dropped his spell.
A deafening clang resonated through the office and he peered towards the cup and found a huge crack almost bisecting it. Time froze for a moment before Harry produced a shimmering barrier with a gasp, just in time for the Horcrux to erupt with more of the inky mass. It formed into the face of a younger Tom Riddle before it roared and exploded, the rementants of it hitting Harry's shield spell with a muted thud.
Silence reigned for a while until he spoke up. "What now?"
"One more. Plus him." Said Harry as Hermione stood mutely.
"...Indeed." Added Dumbledore. "Yet we have no plan to find them, nor confront Tom."
"We have no idea what he's up to at all?" He asked desperately, not liking the idea of flailing around in the dark in the least.
"None." Dumbledore answered, looking every year of his considerable age. "We can only guess at his targets."
"The Ministry, Gringotts and Hogwarts?"
Dumbldore nodded. "Yes… I'm afraid I shall have to convene another meeting of the Order, we must be on high alert, as unlikely as an attack upon the Ministry or Hogwarts is."
"You suspect Gringotts?"
"It is the most likely target, Goblinkind may have fought wizards for centuries relatively well but an attack of sufficient magnitude against a single branch would overcome any available defence. We cannot function without gold."
Overall, things didn't look good. He would have to talk to Amelia about it. His surprisingly good relationship with the bank could help matters… Just how, would be up to far smarter people than he.
He glanced over towards Harry and found him in embrace with the girl that had coordinated his rescue years ago. She was perhaps as much of a family as his godson was now. All in all, James and Lily's son had done well for himself. It was all the more reason to help as much as he could, to keep them out of harm's way as much as possible.
For them.
…
Harry withdrew from her embrace, feeling dizzy. She'd basically flung herself upon him after destroying the cup, he hadn't realised it had affected her so much to begin with. At least he had plenty of time to put things together as she clung on.
He's seen her Boggart, then at least, his had changed with the years after all.
She didn't like failure, the girl he'd come to know worked as hard as possible to avoid any prospect of failure. But something about the way the Horcrux had taunted her made him think that she wasn't afraid of failing simple tests. He'd seen the disappointment in her shoulders as she failed to contain Tom Riddle's magic.
He couldn't fault her though, he'd never seen any magic like that, the way it fought to tame the Horcrux. It had shown him such a thing was possible, it didn't make any difference that she'd failed. They'd figured things out, as they always had. That realisation made him feel warm inside, despite the lingering vertigo.
It all happened very suddenly.
The vertigo morphed into a pain in his scar that grew with each moment until it was blinding. Gritting his teeth against the pain, suddenly it was Hermione holding him instead. Mildly, he realised she barely holding him up as the last of the strength wilted away, giving way to darkness.
"How!?" Said Voldemort in a dangerous whisper.
Bellatrix stood before him, head bowed reverentially. "I do not know my lord. They would have been given access to my vault, but I'm the only one able to." She visibly shook as her master remained silent.
"Your loyalty is not in question Bella." Bellatrix calmed. "Those… creatures have chosen the wrong side." Voldemort paced back and forth, the only sound was the creaking of the aging floorboards under expensive rugs. "We shall deal with Gringotts in time. What did they take?"
Her wild eyes widened in fear. "The-the item you placed in my care… my-my lord."
Voldemort fell silent in a way far more deadly than previously, a powerful shock coursing through his rebuilt veins. Slowly, shock was replaced by fury, steadily building until the Manor began to shake. His thoughts filled with Dumbledore and the possibility that his greatest secret had been discovered. A secret not even his most loyal follower knew about.
Rage mingled with incredulity as he pondered on the fate of his other Horcruxes. He would need to check upon each, and the state of their protections. In the meantime… "Bella!" He snapped. She gazed up at him almost lovingly, though distress was satisfyingly visible as well. He calmed somewhat. "Plans will need to be altered slightly, gather our forces here, I shall be away for perhaps a day." His mind flittered with images of the locations of his horcruxes, the last being the Castle that had become his first home.
"Harry!" He awoke to find Hermione, her face inches from his own. A dangling curl making his nose twitch.
He didn't reply as his mind swirled with images of places and feelings. Of a dilapidated shack, a cliff overlooking a turbulent sea, Lucius Malfoy, Gringotts, Hogwarts and his snake Nagini. He shuddered at the memory of the attack on Mr Weasley and the Chamber of Secrets in particular. The only one that puzzled him was the cliff but he was at least in the right place to discuss what he'd seen.
What came out of his mouth though, was as ineloquent as possible: "He knows, He knows." He said to the room at large, taking hold of his girlfriend's arm to ground himself further.
"Rather detrimental development, for our original plans." Observed Dumbledore, deep in thought.
"What did you see?" Hermione asked, a calculating look upon her face.
"He's going to check on his Horcruxes." He began, still panting, rattled. "And Gringotts, he mentioned Gringotts."
Suddenly, the aged Headmaster was beside him, kneeling, and intense gaze upon him. "What were they?"
He shook his head weakly. "A Shack, a Cliff, Lucius Malfoy, Gringotts, Hogwarts and Nagini. We were right about the snake." He added, feeling slightly satisfied that they'd gotten something right.
Dumbledore's eyes darted beneath his half-moon spectacles as Hermione helped him into a more comfortable sitting position. His neck was a bright spot of pain, probably falling awkwardly against the desk he surmised. "The only unknown is the Cliffs you speak of, but we have already accounted for enough of the Horcruxes to not journey there. That fact that it had resided at Grimmauld Place though… Sirius?"
His godfather then came into view, partly obscured by brown curls. "Albus?"
"Regulus was a Deatheater, correct?"
A pained expression flitted marred Sirius's features. "He was."
At the mention of Regulus, he was painfully reminded of an emotional aged elf collapsing upon the carpet. "Kreacher… called it Master Regulus's locket."
Dumbledore's surprise matched Sirius's. "They we can surmise that he discovered, and stole it, but was unable to destroy it. Given that I have not visited that part of Tom's childhood yet. It must have resided there."
"Assuming." He observed, his mind returning to normal once more. He stood, with help from the desk and Hermione.
Dumbledore rose with him, inclining his head in his direction. "Indeed. But events are moving apace, I do not wish to leave the school with Tom preparing his forces for an imminent attack on a target unknown to us."
He could only nod. Silently, Hermione's arm intertwined with his, her body as close as possible to his.
"Sirius." Dumbledore's voice deep, and serious. "Gather the order for an emergency meeting at Headquarters tonight. I'll ask Minerva to lock down the school from midnight."
His godfather nodded and moved quickly to Harry, who returned the gruff hug from his godfather. "We never get time to chat do we?" He quipped.
Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "When this is over, we'll have plenty of time for that chat." He turned to Hermione. "Look after him curly."
Her eyes narrowed at him but she smiled anyway. "And just what do you think I've been doing all these years?"
Sirius grinned. "True, apologies m'lady." He then turned and activated the floo, disappearing in a flash of emerald flame.
Silence reigned in the office until he spoke aloud something he'd been thinking about during the goodbye's: "He's going to come here isn't he?"
"Maybe not." Dumbledore countered. "If Severus can placate him, we may convince him that the Horcrux here is safe. This school's wards are older, and stronger than those upon the Ministry of Magic. Any force enough to take this castle would take time to muster, and would give us enough time to evacuate students."
Both teens nodded silently and left. Hermione leading him as his mind wandered, thoughts of an attack upon Hogwarts and what that would mean flittered back and forth.
…
The Room of Requirement seemed to improve with each time they used it. Or maybe that was just the magic of the room facilitating their more complex ideas. It was interesting just what was added with each new iteration of the same rooms they'd called into existence.
She'd asked for THEIR room, only the hearth had been replaced with a firepit which popped and crackled soothingly, the couch sat at the foot of a huge bed which was against the wall. The glass walls on the remaining three sides almost made it feel like they were in the outdoors that lay beyond. Only the warmth of the room reminded one that they were actually in a room, on the seventh floor of a castle.
His runaway thoughts had only subsided when she'd fairly leapt upon him on that very couch. They had then been replaced by a single feeling, one he couldn't place. Despite only being teens, and still in the early stages of proficiency of love, even he could tell there was something different about this time. There had been a kind of finality to their act, in the face of danger possibly visiting their doorstep.
By this time, after over five years of attending Hogwarts, he'd come to accept the fact that mortal danger lay somewhere in the year. This time it felt… different. Like the culmination of all of their work, the battles they'd fought in the past, those that had been lost, everything was coming to a head with the sureness of the Hogwarts Express departing at exactly eleven o'clock from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He frowned at the odd metaphor.
"What is it?" Hermione asked from somewhere near where his shoulder was. A satisfactory arrangement in his opinion - even with the odd hair tickling his face. It had become a profound part of whatever basking they did after tangling the sheets. The care and attention they each needed was addressed where no one could interrupt, nor see them. A tall order in a boarding school.
"I don't like this feeling of… inevitability." He said gaze fixed upon the moon's reflection upon the lake.
"Me neither, no matter how romantic."
"Romantic?"
He didn't need to see her to know the exact facial expression she was making at that moment. "You know, the destined couple make love for one more time before he goes off to war. Terribly cliche."
Heat rose in his cheeks. "Is that what you read?"
"You're only a little girl once."
He gave her a squeeze. "You still are."
He'd expected a jaunty rebuttal, instead she replied. "Under… certain circumstances, yes."
His mouth worked but words wouldn't come, intense was the wave of desire that flooded through him at that very second. Constantly surprising, as usual. She giggled at his silence and he rolled on top of her, kissing her to stop that infernal giggling. Needless to say, it worked and they resumed their previous positions and basked in the silence, and each other once more.
Until.
"Where do you see yourself in twenty years?"
"I don't know." Was his honest answer. "I mean, you're there, but I don't know where we are."
He could practically hear her unsatisfied pout. "Where do you WANT to be in twenty years then?"
The answer took a while to form properly from a bundle of dreams, wants and needs he'd had over the years. But finally, an image formed. "I… I see myself serving dinner, Sirius and Remus are there, you've just come back from work, as the Minister for Magic and… Our kids come running for dinner - you tell them off for running of course." He grinned. "There's not much else to it, I don't even know what I do for work."
She snuggled into his side for a moment before replying. "What are our kids' names?"
His heart thundered in response, growing impossibly. "No clue. I… I don't want to be named after my parents, but I kind of do, a bit."
She kissed his jaw. "We'll figure it out."
"We always do." SIlence reigned before he turned the question back upon her. "And you?"
"I don't know… I want to right the injustices and racism in the Wizarding World."
"You could do that as Minister you know."
"I can't just send a resume in to be Minister you know."
"Oh? Shame."
"Honestly Harry, it's a wonder you pass exams at all with thinking like that."
"I would describe it as an unwavering confidence in you." He countered with a grin. He did love it so when she joined in with his banter. As he did many things about her. It was a shame it had taken him so long to see it.
…
