Disclaimer: JK Rowling's characters.
Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …8:06 a.m.
"Harry!" Ron shouted.
Harry grinned and hugged Ron as the redhead enveloped him in a gentle embrace. "You all look great," he said, as Ginny and Dean patiently waited their turn.
"So do you," said Ginny, kissing him on the cheek. "Got a bit of a tan already, haven't you?"
"Yeah, been outside as much as I can."
"As much as Snape'll let you, you mean," said Dean, looking up the hill at Snape.
"Hey, boy!" Ginny leaned over to wrap her arms around Fang's neck. Fang woofed and tried to lick her face, but he couldn't reach her. Ginny laughed and straightened up, then pulled a treat from her bag. Fang snuffled it up, drenching Ginny's hand, which she wiped on Ron's back.
"Ginny!" Ron recoiled and twisted away from her.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know I hate it when you whinge my name."
"I wasn't whinging! And why'd you have to wipe Fang's ick on my back? Dean's standing right there!"
"I didn't want to get his shirt dirty. Some of us take pride in how we look."
When Ron growled and narrowed his eyes, Dean stepped in front of Ginny. He stuck his chest out and put his fists on his hips. "Fear not, fair maiden, for I, Dean of West Ham, shall protect your honor!"
Ron snorted. "What honor?"
"How dare you!" Ginny screeched dramatically and reached around Dean to poke Ron in the ribs.
"Oy!"
Dean moved out of the way as the two began mock fighting. Ginny squealed when Ron picked her up and pitched her over his shoulder.
"Let's get off the road," Harry said, laughing.
"Where's Draco?" Ron said.
"Other side of the hill," said Harry.
"Ron and Dra-co, sit-tin' in a tree," Ginny sang from her upside-down position. When Ron jostled her, she yelped and held out her hands to Dean, who pulled her free to set her on her feet. Then the two redheads began fighting again.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Can't take them anywhere, mate," he whispered to Harry.
"We heard that," said Ginny. She had Ron in a headlock.
Harry grinned, glad to see them in good spirits. He had wondered how they were coping after Fred's death, and Bill's recovery from that werewolf bite.
Once they reached Snape, Ginny was the first to speak. "Professor."
"Miss Weasley. Mr. Thomas, Mr. Weasley," Snape said, saving the boys from having to address him. When he motioned for them to pass through the boundary, Ron went first. Ginny, Dean, and Fang followed. When Harry came through, Ron and Draco were nearly halfway down the hill.
"It's absolutely lovely here," said Ginny, looking around.
"It is," Dean said. "I love the city, but the more time I spend in the country, the more I think I wouldn't mind living somewhere like this. Man, I could sit out here and sketch for days…"
"Don't get any ideas," said Ginny, sticking a finger in his face. "We're going to the beach. You can sketch there, too."
"Yes, love," Dean said, taking her finger and kissing it. Harry chuckled and clapped Dean on the back, which made Harry lose his balance. "Whoa!" Dean grabbed Harry's arm to steady him.
"Sorry," Harry said, taking a moment to orient himself.
"No worries, mate," said Dean. "I got you."
Harry glanced back at Snape. The Potions master's lips were a tight, bloodless line, his annoyance plain. Before leaving the cottage, he and Harry had rowed. Harry had refused to use the magic carpet or his walking-stick, wanting his friends to see how much he had improved. He was glad Snape wasn't making a fuss, now. Harry reckoned it might be because Dean still had ahold of his arm.
"Harry?" Ginny said.
"I'm all right," he said, giving her a smile. "C'mon, I want to show you around."
As they walked, Harry pointed out landmarks, promising them a closer look after they got settled. At the cottage, Harry led them to the wild garden.
Dean whistled. "Nev's gonna to flip his wig when he sees this."
Beyond the garden, behind the southeast corner of the cottage, Snape had set up several tents.
"How many people are planning to stay?" Ginny said. "I thought it was just us."
"Well, there's one for the guys, one for the girls, Andromeda and her children have a tent to themselves, and I think there's a couple spares for whatever," Harry said, with a shrug.
After Dean unloaded his things in the boys' tent, and Ginny unloaded hers in the girls', Harry brought them to his rowan—using his magic carpet, per Snape's 'suggestion.' After that he showed them the paddock, then flew them to the oak grove. The trees welcomed them by bending into graceful arches wherever they roamed, delighting Dean.
"Honestly, sometimes it's like I'm dating an eight-year-old girl," Ginny said to Harry as they slowly trailed Dean through the grove.
"Heard that," he called over his shoulder as he approached one of the oaks. When he began running his fingers over its bark, the tree shivered, making its leaves rustle. Dean laughed and began tickling it, which made its leaves rustle even more. "Least it's not trying take my head off like the Whomping Willow."
"They've never done this before," Harry said, stepping over to tickle a tree. One of the tree's low-hanging branches brushed his stomach, tickling him back. The sound of his and Dean's laughter echoed throughout the grove.
Ginny watched them, smiling, until her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She quickly brushed them away, not wanting the boys to see. She hated crying, even as a child. When she scraped a knee, got a black eye, or bruised a rib while playing, she got angry instead of cried because she believed that she could do whatever her brothers did, even if it hurt. And, crying never seemed to make her feel better anyway, just left her feeling embarrassed and not in control. Dean didn't judge her for it, which had been a relief, especially that morning after the battle.
A storm had arrived with the dawn. It raged for nearly an hour before giving way to a steady rain that lasted until early afternoon. Despite the weather, many, including the Weasleys, were impatient to bring in their dead. As Percy, Charlie, Arthur, and Bill prepared to go collect Fred's body, Ron had watched them, assuming he'd be going too.
"You need to be here for Mum, Ginny, and George," Bill said.
"But I know where he is!" Ron said. "I was there…"
"I know," Bill said as Ron's eyes filled with tears, "but we don't know what we're going to find, and I don't want you seeing it, seeing Fred…" He cleared his throat. "Stay here."
After they returned, white-faced and silent, Ginny fled to Gryffindor Tower, without a word. When two hours later, she hadn't returned, Arthur raised the alarm.
Volunteers spent an hour searching the castle and grounds. When they reported that she hadn't been found yet, Arthur had stood in the middle of the hospital wing and shouted: "Where is my daughter? Why can't you find her? Find her, please! You must find her! I've already lost my s-son! Where is my daughter? Ginny! Ginny!"
Alarmed by his father's behavior, Ron had begged him to calm down. Moments before, as Ron was making his way back from searching the dungeons, Dobby had appeared, telling him that Dean and Ginny were in Gryffindor Tower.
"Ginny, love," Dean had said as he approached her in the common room.
She was sitting, staring out of one of the windows, her shoulders shaking as tears ran down her face. When he touched her, she screamed and lurched to her feet. She lobbed whatever was at hand, yanked at her hair, clawed at her face, and wailed until she collapsed breathless in his arms.
Dean picked her up and carried her upstairs. He sat her on his bed and filled his basin with hot water. He undressed her, washed her, then put her in one of his T-shirts and a pair of his shorts. He brushed her hair, pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then coaxed her under the covers. Finally, he lay next to her and gently urged her to go to sleep.
"Ginny, please," he whispered as she lay staring up at the canopy.
"I want to," she said softly. "I do. I want to go to sleep and never wake up, I think."
"Oh, love…"
"I hate crying," she said.
"I know, but you can cry in front of me."
Ginny turned her head to look at him. "Kiss me," she said, softly.
"Ginny!" Dean said, bringing her back to the present. "Love, you with me?"
She looked at him and took the hand he was holding out to her. "Of course. I'm here."
The tour ended at the pond.
"This'll be Ron's favorite spot," said Ginny.
"Reminds me of the Burrow," Dean said.
"That's why he'll love it," Ginny said. "But I want to explore the beach, dip my toes in the ocean. Would it be terribly rude if we left now?"
"Yes," said Ron, as he and Draco strolled up.
Ginny said, "I wasn't talking to you, spattergoit face."
"Oy!"
"Dad at the cottage?" Harry asked Draco.
"No, your girlfriend has arrived. He's escorting her down."
"Oh, brilliant," Harry said.
"Hitch a ride with you back to the house?" Dean said to Harry. "We can say hi to Hermione, get our stuff, then head to the beach."
Harry said, "Sure. C'mon then."
"And the party?" Ron said.
"We'll be back well before it starts," Ginny said, sticking out her tongue.
"Come on, Ginger Spice." Dean swept her off her feet into his arms.
"Who?" Ginny said, her brow furrowed. Smiling, Dean kissed her.
Ron groaned. "Really? In front of me?"
"Don't act as if you and Draco won't be doing the same thing the second we're out of sight," Ginny said.
"Dean," Ron said, "get her out of here, please!"
Dean laughed and set Ginny down. He took her hand and they hurried to catch up to Harry, who was already floating on his carpet, waiting for them.
*SP
Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …10:09 a.m.
Snape and Hermione were heading away from the garden when Harry spotted them. Hermione smiled and said something to Snape before dashing over to Harry.
"Chicken," he said, as the carpet dipped sideways so that he could slide off it.
"'S good to see you Hermione," said Dean.
"You, too, Dean. Ginny."
"Oy," said Dean, snagging Ginny's hand to lead her away, "the beach awaits."
Staring into Harry's eyes, Hermione feathered a finger over his bottom lip. "You look beautiful."
Harry laughed. "That's my line."
"Shall we go sit in the garden?"
"Yeah." Harry took her hand and they started towards the back of the cottage.
Snape said to Harry, "Draco?"
"The pond, with Ron."
Snape nodded and said, "I'll be inside."
"All right," Harry said. Then to Hermione: "How about a ride on my magic carpet instead?"
Hermione beamed. "Absolutely."
*SP
Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …6:30 p.m.
An hour before the party, guests received a Portkey. Instead of relying on Apparition, Snape created Portkeys to eliminate the danger of guests being sighted on the road, or of Apparating to the wrong place. Each guest's arrival was timed three minutes apart to avoid accidents when they appeared at the bottom of the hill on the valley-side of the magical boundary.
Tracey Davis, Marcus Flint, Pansy Parkinson, and Neville arrived first. Marcus, looking smart, if a bit tank-like, in tailored emerald green robes, stood alongside a beaming Tracey, who looked radiant in blood-orange robes. Two weeks ago, she had been fitted with a prosthetic leg. Her limp was barely noticeable as she had always been a graceful girl. Regardless, Marcus's arm around her waist provided extra support should she need it.
Pansy wore fitted champagne pink robes and she'd drawn back her short, black bob with glittery barrettes that, according to Draco, were made of diamonds. The edges of her robes' sleeves and her small handbag looked to be encrusted with the same jewels. Neville, clad in simple, but elegant black robes held the hand Pansy had looped over his arm.
Theo Nott, Terry Boot, Brân, and Willie Williamson arrived next. As everyone made their way across the valley to the cottage, Draco and Harry stood out in front of it to greet them, with Draco at Harry's right, making him the first person their guests encountered instead of Harry. Harry shook his head as Draco addressed everyone as though they had queued up for some sort of royal receiving line.
After a while, Harry understood why Draco had placed himself between Harry and the partiers. The Slytherin expertly, and subtly prodded those who wished to linger and talk, telling them, "Once everyone has passed through and Harry has joined the party, do feel free to speak with him as much as you like. Thank you."
Harry had laughed out loud when Draco admonished Ron with the same speech because Ron had wanted to keep talking to Harry, gumming up the queue. The redhead had frowned, opened his mouth to say something, then shuffled off with a confused expression when Draco said, "There's a delightful selection of hors d'oeuvres around back near the garden. Please, enjoy."
Lavender Brown, Romilda Vane, Natalie McDonald, Anthony Goldstein, Susan Bones, Kevin Entwhistle, and Mandy Brocklehurst were the last to arrive and formed a sizable group as they approached the east side of the cottage where nearly everyone had gathered.
"Oy, Harry," Charlie said.
Harry grinned. "Charlie. Thanks for coming." He shook the hand Charlie had extended.
"Wouldn't miss it. I'd have chatted a bit more going through the line, but your Blond Defender wouldn't suffer any dilly-dallying."
Harry chuckled. "He's just trying to be helpful."
"I know," said Charlie. "'S just still a little strange, you and him being so close."
Harry shrugged. "It is what it is."
"Yeah." Charlie shifted his eyebrows. "He's got my little brother wrapped round his finger."
"The feeling's mutual, trust me."
"I trust Ron," Charlie said. He looked Harry up and down. "You look good. Being here suits you."
"I wish you'd arrived a bit earlier. I could have shown you around."
"Ginny's already given me an earful—the pond, the oak trees, the beach. 'S good. I'm happy for you, mate. You deserve this." When Harry flushed, embarrassed, Charlie smiled. "Well, I'm gonna go mingle a bit, Mr. Potter."
"You headed back to Romania soon?"
Charlie grinned and said, "Funny you should ask. Actually, I'm staying on at Hogwarts, at least 'til they can get a permanent Head of House for Gryffindor."
Harry laughed. "You're going to be our Head of House?"
Charlie chuckled. "Yeah, just 'til they find someone new."
"Did you know about this?" Harry said as Ron and Draco approached.
"What?" said Ron.
"Charlie, he's our Head of House."
Ron's eyes widened as he looked at his brother. "You're takin' the piss."
"That was the old Charlie, who wasn't your Head of House. New Charlie is indeed your Head of House, so…respect."
"I don't believe it," Ron said, sounding far away.
"It's only until they get someone else," Charlie said, patting Ron on the shoulder.
"You mean someone qualified," Ron muttered.
"You know it's a good thing I can't take points yet, little brother…"
Ron's face went slack with horror. "You wouldn't!"
"Wouldn't I?" Charlie said and strode away, a big enigmatic smile on his face.
"Gods, he's going to be an absolute nightmare, isn't he?" Ron said.
"No," said Harry, watching as Charlie took a drink to McGonagall. "No, of course…he's not… Is he?"
"Well, I've no need to fear my Head of House," Draco drawled.
"Oh, shut it, Malfoy," Harry and Ron said.
"Anyway," Harry said, "it's Charlie, not Percy."
Ron said, "Don't let the good old wizard routine fool you. Charlie's just as clever as Percy, he just doesn't flaunt it, and he can be just as bossy. Remember, he handles dragons, and not just dragons, but dragon handlers. They can be…unruly."
When Draco snorted, Harry and Ron cast him withering looks. "Yes, well, I'll just be over here," he said, leaving to join Hermione, Theo, Ginny, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Hannah Abbot.
"I'm gonna go see if I can overhear what my brother and McGonagall are yapping about," Ron said.
"Cheers," Harry said.
After just barely avoiding running into Brân Savage, Ron raised a hand and broke off to make his way to where McGonagall and Charlie were standing near Snape and Andromeda Tonks.
*SP
Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …8:17 p.m.
Dobby, clad in a formal Hogwarts tea towel, had volunteered his services for the party, but it was only after some tense negotiations over several cups of tea that he accepted Snape's offer to pay him. Under his watchful eye, the buffet tables brimmed with all manner of tasty food and drink. When the sun set, fairy lights winked on then proceeded to dance around the garden, the cottage's eaves and windows, and the paddock. Fang watched them from his lounging spot near the backdoor while Crookshanks chased and batted them around. The cat caught a few, spat the squealing creatures out, then started the game again.
After Andromeda, Stella, Jack, and Frannie left the receiving line, they had followed some of the crowd to the back of the cottage. The instant the children spotted Fang and Crookshanks, they made a beeline for the animals. While Crookshanks was typically temperamental and loathed humans' cooing attentions, he suffered the children's affections. He even managed a rumbling purr as Stella stroked his belly and laughed.
"Oh, that's wonderful to hear," Andromeda told Snape. "I think that's the first genuine laughter I've heard from her."
"Perhaps you should get them a pet," he said. "I understand Cornelius Fudge is still looking for work."
Andromeda chuckled. "Absolutely not. I wouldn't have the patience to housetrain him."
"How are they adjusting to the house?"
Andromeda smiled sadly. "They all have nightmares, bouts of anger, and times when they're quiet as mice. Of course it's far too soon to expect much else from them, but I often can't help wondering if I did the right thing, if I'm helping or hurting them?"
"It's difficult to watch and difficult to know."
"It's just so unfair, all that they've been through. But it's our lot to help them, yes?"
"It is."
"And you've no regrets?"
Snape searched until he spotted Harry and Draco with Ron, Hermione, Neville, Pansy, Blaise, Dean, Ginny, and Theo. Hermione was standing behind Harry, her arms around his waist, her chin on his shoulder as he gestured animatedly. Draco looked relaxed with Ron's hand resting on his back as they listened to Harry.
"None at all," he said.
*SP
Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …8:42 p.m.
"Severus," said Brân, once Andromeda had gone to check on her children.
Snape had seen him arrive with Willie Williamson and John Dawlish. Harry had insisted on inviting them, wanting to express his gratitude to the men for looking after them in London, particularly after Loyd's trial when Harry suffered that horrible seizure. Snape hadn't been overly pleased about Savage's invitation, but it was Harry's party.
"Savage." Snape barely glanced at the man when he spoke.
"Quite the turnout," Brân said. "I'd imagined Harry'd want something a bit more intimate."
"He wanted what he wanted."
"Aye. He looks well, happy. Sounded good when I spoke to him a little bit ago."
Someone had conjured some chairs, as Harry was sitting now. Hermione sat beside him in a chair of her own. They were looking at Blaise. The Slytherin had returned from Ghana a few days ago. Next to Harry and Hermione, Dean and Ginny shared a seat, Ginny on Dean's lap. Snape wondered if the girl knew how to sit on a piece of furniture without using Dean as a cushion.
"My son is fine," he said, and started away.
Brân followed. He spoke as they walked. "I kept thinking, the night of the battle, and after, 'He doesn't remember me.'"
"I don't forget my students."
Brân grinned. "I was a bit unusual, though. You know, I actually enjoyed your classes. Not that others didn't…" He quickly added. "I learned a lot."
"You asked enough questions," Snape muttered.
Brân chuckled. The Potions master's words sounded more like a compliment than an admonishment. "Well, it was the only way I could get you to talk to me."
He had been inquisitive, not only because he was clever, but because he'd been genuinely curious about potions, and Snape had known it. But, Brân had also liked engaging Snape because it made it seem as if they were having a conversation.
The only students Snape spoke to outside of class (beyond taking points for misbehavior) were Slytherins. Students from each house had spread rumors—some true, most false—about Snape, which made the young professor even more tight-lipped around them, so Brân fairly preened when he and Snape had a back and forth in class.
"Yes, well, if you'll excuse me," Snape said.
"Severus?" Brân pressed a light touch to his elbow, having learned his lesson about trying to manhandle the man.
"Enjoy your evening," Snape said, and strode away.
Brân watched him approach a smiling Aberforth, who held his arms open. Brân hadn't spotted him earlier. Snape stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the old wizard. After a moment, Aberforth pulled back and took Snape's face into his hands, looked him up and down, then released him.
They chatted until Andromeda Tonks limped over. Watching her it struck Brân, he had never seen so many canes, staffs, and walking-sticks in one place. Fucking Voldemort. Goddamn war. Minutes later, when Draco joined them, their faces transformed from serious expressions to smiles. The boy acknowledged his aunt first, saying something complimentary from the way Andromeda glowed before hugging and kissing him. Once Andromeda let him go, Aberforth shifted his staff and shook the hand Draco had extended in greeting.
Brân smiled to himself as Snape listened to Draco. The man's feelings for the boy were written all over his face.
"Take a picture, mate," Willie said, his lips right next to Brân's ear, making Brân jump. "Lasts longer."
Brân glared as the young Auror came around to stand in front of him. "You're lucky we're not on duty. I'd write your arse up five ways from Sunday."
Willie grinned. "You wouldn't. How would you live without my slavish adoration?"
"I'd manage. Oh, speaking of living without you, Gumboil needs a couple bodies next week for an overnight assignment. I'm to recommend someone."
Willie kept grinning, then he paled. "You wouldn't!"
Brân narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I could, probably should after that little stunt you just pulled."
Too good-natured by far, Willie could never manage a wholly convincing scowl. "How is it that you're more bearable on the job, than at a party?"
"Did no one ever tell you that words hurt?" Brân said.
"Arse. I'm gonna go find Theo. Think I'll charm a toad into his trousers, give him a thrill since the Granger girl won't give him the time of day."
"Ah, it's good to have things in common, no?"
Willie shook his head. "You're just a despicable, spiteful arse," he said, as Brân grinned and lifted his glass of ale at him.
Making his way toward the front of the cottage, Willie stopped to chat with Charlie Weasley, greeting the redhead with a boisterous hug. Brân liked Willie, believed he was a fair Auror who would perhaps make a good one, but he questioned the young wizard's commitment to the corps, mostly because Willie treated being an Auror as a job. For Brân, it was his calling. Seeking justice seemed to be in his blood.
Since about the 1300s, a Savage had been involved in the law. Brân's father, Brychan, had been a brilliant solicitor. Instead of representing families like the Blacks, the Malfoys, or the Parkinsons, he had carved out a niche working for those who didn't have the means to hire someone of his caliber. Brân had been insanely proud of him, and Brychan's death three years ago had been devastating.
After the funeral, Brân took time off to organize his father's affairs, then Dumbledore announced Voldemort's return. Despite Cornelius Fudge's blustering denials, Brân had believed Dumbledore, especially as he had been at the Ministry long enough to know that Fudge would say and do anything to cling to power.
When Brân returned to work, Kingsley had tried—not for the first time—to convince him to attend an Order of the Phoenix meeting. Brân had declined. While he fully supported the Order, he felt he would be more valuable at the Ministry. Weeks after Voldemort's return, Brân had begun hearing whispers about Aurors either being recruited or trying to recruit other Aurors supportive of Voldemort's beliefs.
While publicly, trying to flush out a possible Fifth column within the Auror Corps had been his reason for not joining the Order, privately things were more complicated. Seeing Snape the night of the battle had unearthed feelings Brân had thought long buried since his days as a Ravenclaw.
After leaving Hogwarts, he had taken a year to travel the world, then returned to England to join the corps. After earning his Auror credentials, he lived his life, even fell in love, but it had ended badly. Since then, he had never denied himself the pleasure of having dinner, having a pint, or of even spending the night with someone, but he'd decided that getting emotionally involved was a nonstarter—not only because of that failed relationship years ago, but because he now supposed he had never truly moved past his feelings for Snape.
Regrettably, the timing was off. Snape had a family. He was father to Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, the two most recognizable young wizards in the wizarding world. While much of that world hailed them as heroes, Voldemort loyalists saw them as threats. And as the Ministry lacked an effective means of tracking the loyalists, Britain's wizarding population was left vulnerable to attack. But where Snape and his boys were concerned, Brân aimed to do whatever was necessary to keep them safe.
*SP
Snape's Lab, Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …9:23 p.m.
"How long do you plan to stay out here?" Draco said.
Harry looked up from the tattered, stained Potions text resting on his knees. "'Til school starts?"
Draco walked towards him. "This is your party. You must put in more of an appearance than smiling uncomfortably next to the cake."
"That won't be enough?"
"Let me rephrase: You must put in more of an appearance because covering for you is exhausting."
"Yeah, sorry." Harry sighed. "You think I'm being childish?"
"…No?"
"Wanker. Dad looking for me?"
"He knows where you are. He asked me to come fetch you. At any rate, it's not him you have to worry about—it's the adoring masses clamoring for your flesh."
Harry chuckled at the evil glint in Draco's eyes. "Arse."
"Yes, well, chop, chop. If I have to suffer another of your girlfriend's fawning looks every time Weasley comes near me, I won't be responsible."
"I can see how that'd get annoying, considering Ron never leaves your side. Color me surprised that he's not with you now."
"Oy, Harry," Ron said, popping his head into the doorway. "C'mon, mate. Party time! And I'm starving."
Draco frowned and turned to look at Ron. "You just had a plate of food before we came out here. I'm fairly certain you're the only reason Dobby keeps replenishing everything."
"That was like fifteen minutes ago, and it's a bit of a walk to get here." Ron rubbed his stomach. "I've worked up an appetite."
"Really? Fifty steps, if that, and you're famished?"
"Yeah, and I think Dobby's about to stop refilling the platters. Reckon he'll give me a tray so I can snack later?"
"Are you serious?"
Harry said, "Don't argue with him, Draco. Food's his first love."
"No, it isn't," Ron said quietly, looking at Draco.
Harry made an exaggerated gagging noise when Draco's cheeks pinked up. "Lend me an arm, hero," he said to the blond. "I forgot my walking-stick."
"I'm sure Aberforth will be thrilled to hear that."
"He made it?" Harry said, grasping the elbow Draco held out to him.
"Yes."
"Did he say why he was late?"
"Silly me. I asked him how he was and if he'd like any refreshment. I didn't think to rudely accost him about not being here at 6:48 and 32 seconds, like he was scheduled to be."
"Gods, you can be an arse."
Draco cocked his head to the side. "You seem surprised…"
"Ugh! Ron, can I use your arm instead?"
"No. I prefer to keep out of the line of fire."
"Git."
"Come on," Draco said, sounding exasperated.
"Don't rush the cripple," Harry muttered as he slid off the wood counter top, trying not to jar himself when he landed.
"Please," Draco said. "I've seen you nearly knock Fang over in your rush to get to the dinner table."
"One time!"
"You guys gonna pussyfoot around in here all night or are you coming back to the party?" said Dean, from the doorway.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Perhaps we should move everything out here. Everyone seems to know where you are."
"Oy," Dean said, holding his hands up, "don't shoot the messenger." Then Ron shifted out of Dean's line of sight, giving him a good look at Harry. "Damn! Mate, you need another elbow or something?" He rushed forward to Harry's other side. "What the hell, Ron? Why didn't you give him a hand?"
Ron looked at Dean, stunned. Seamus used to tease Dean, calling him Gloss because unlike his dormmates (save Neville), it took a lot to bring out Dean's temper—although Ginny usually managed.
"He's fine!" Ron said. "He's got Draco helping him! He's not a bloody invalid!"
"Yeah, but you can see he's struggling!"
"Look, Dean…"
"Both of you, shut up!" Draco yelled. "Do you really think I'd let anything happen to him?" he said to Dean.
Dean's mouth worked to say something "I… I… Sorry," he finally managed.
"S'okay," Harry said, with a sigh. He looked suddenly tired.
"You sure you're up for this, mate?" said Ron, his brow furrowed in concern.
"I've just had enough fighting. I really don't want to hear it from my friends."
Draco looked at Harry. "Weasley's right. Severus will ask everyone to go home if he has any inkling you're not feeling well."
"No," Harry said. "No, some of them probably really need this right now. I'm okay. Really." He and Draco stepped past Ron and Dean. Once he was outside, Harry inhaled deeply.
*SP
Soth-ince Den, Lizard's Point, Cornwall, July 1997 (31) …9:10 p.m.
After assuring Draco that Harry would be fine with Dean, Ron convinced the blond boy to stay with him in the shed for a bit. As a laughing Harry and Dean neared the cottage, Harry heard someone say, "Potter." Pansy. She broke away from the Slytherins she'd been chatting with.
"All right, mate?" Dean asked Harry. Harry nodded, and Dean slipped away to find Ginny.
"Pansy." Harry smiled at her. "Where's your other half?"
"After one look at that wild garden of yours, I lost him," she said, shaking her head and pouting a little. "I imagine he's lurking round the other side of it at this very moment. I've been socializing alone since we arrived, and he's been out here. I ask you, how can he possibly prefer weeds over me?"
Harry chuckled. Pansy knew better, but as a Slytherin, having her ego stroked never got old. "Neville's no idiot."
"Aren't you a charmer?" Pansy smiled and took Harry's hand. "I don't know that Granger deserves you."
Hermione, only steps away, looked over her shoulder at them and cleared her throat.
"Oh, Hermione," Pansy said. "I didn't see you there."
Harry tensed and swallowed when Hermione's gaze sharpened, and her lips quirked up into a small smile. Hermione had once told him that she was cordial to Pansy for Neville's sake. For reasons she couldn't fully explain, she didn't quite trust the Slytherin. However, Harry liked her well enough. It seemed to him that her old ghastly attitude faded the more time she spent in mixed company, and she seemed to make Neville as happy as Neville made her, so Harry didn't see the problem.
"It's quite all right," Hermione said. "That's precisely why one should use a light touch when lengthening and darkening one's lashes."
Harry felt Pansy tense up as someone standing nearby inhaled sharply and said, "Oooohhh."
"Well, that was uncalled for," Pansy said, sounding like her old self.
Hermione's eyebrow went up. "Like flirting with my boyfriend?"
"I was…" Pansy let go of Harry's arm. "I was not flirting!"
"Oh, Merlin," said Neville, coming to stand between the two witches.
Pansy scowled at him. "Don't take that tone with me!"
Neville held out his hand. "Pansy…"
"No! You're being ridiculous!"
Neville took her elbow. "Please?"
To Harry, Pansy seemed weirdly upset, nothing like the girl who had been teasing him only moments before. Eventually, Pansy took Neville's hand, her bottom lip quivering.
"Sorry, mate," Neville whispered as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "She's having a time of it."
Harry shook his head. "No worries."
"Neville…" Pansy said. She sounded on the verge of tears.
"Come on, love," Neville said softly.
Harry caught Hermione's eye. She was frowning, her expression confused and guilty. "Neville?" she said, before he and Pansy got too far away.
Neville gave her a small smile. "I thought it might do her some good to be around everyone."
"Why?" Harry said.
"Her family's house-elf, they found her bound and gagged…dead, miles from Parkinson House."
Hermione frowned. "They allowed her out of the house?"
"No," Neville said. "A week ago, they all spent the afternoon in Hogsmeade. When they got back home, dinner wasn't ready, and Fimpey ignored their calls. A day later, a neighbor found her in a field."
"No," Hermione said. "Oh, Pansy… I'm so sorry."
"When I was a child, Fimpey always added the perfect splash of milk to my tea when we had tea p-parties in my r-rooms." She began to cry. Neville kissed the top of her head and whispered something to her.
"They've no idea what happened?" Harry said to him. "How she got out?"
Neville shook his head. "Nothing in the house was touched. They'd put up a security charm before leaving." Neville snorted softly. "Sounds cliché, but it's a mystery."
"No, there must be an explanation," said Hermione. "The spell that binds house-elves to their families' homes is unbreakable, unless you give them an item of clothing or the family evicts them."
Neville shrugged. "Like I said, mystery."
"Is the DMLE investigating?" Harry said.
"A couple of Aurors came out, had a look round the area where she was found."
"What's with the serious faces?" Ron asked.
Draco frowned. "Pansy?"
"I'm taking her inside," said Neville.
"Use my room," said Draco, leading them to the back door and holding it open for them. "What the hell is going on?" He asked Harry when he returned. "I've never seen her cry."
"Her family's house-elf died," said Harry.
"She was murdered," Hermione said, pitching her voice low as a laughing quartet of Ravenclaws strolled past.
"What?" Ron nearly shouted, attracting glances from everyone standing nearby.
Hermione frowned at him and motioned for them to follow her to the tents out back.
Once they were all behind the boys' tent, Harry said, "About a week ago, the Parkinsons went out. When they got back, their house-elf was missing."
"Fimpey would never leave them," said Draco.
"Well, if they treated her like most families treat their house-elves…" Hermione began.
"Hermione," said Ron, a warning tone in his voice.
"No," said Draco, "she's right, but the Parkinsons aren't typical in that way—Pansy and her mother, at least."
"So they couldn't possibly have said or done something that made it so she could leave?" said Ron.
"No," Draco said. He looked at Harry. Reading the expression on the Gryffindor's face, he said, "It might not mean anything, though."
"Or it might," Harry said quietly.
Ron dragged his hands through his hair. "You know, I would love it if we could have just one, maybe two days where we didn't have to see something like a poor, dead house-elf as anything other than a poor, dead house-elf."
"What about a house-elf?" said Ginny as she and Dean joined them.
Ron shook his head.
"Don't give me that," Ginny said. "What's going on? Why are you all so pruney-looking?"
"Pansy's house-elf is…gone," said Hermione.
"And, what?" said Ginny. "She's gutted that she'll have to wash her own dirty knickers now?"
Ron groaned. "Ginny…"
Draco narrowed his eyes at the girl. "Somehow Fimpey got out of the house or was taken from it."
"Someone killed her," Harry said.
"Oh, no," said Ginny, squeezing Dean's arm.
"Why?" Dean said.
"No idea," said Ron.
Dean looked at Harry. "Think it means something?"
Harry dragged his shoulders up and down in a tired shrug.
"What are you all doing back here?" said Tracey, accompanied by Marcus. It was as if his arm was glued to her waist.
"Everyone's shifting over to the paddock," he said. "Cake."
"Yeah?" Harry said. "Cheers, Marcus."
Marcus nodded, then his heavy brow knitted in a frown as he took in the expressions on their faces. "Everything all right?"
"Oh, yeah," said Ron, taking Draco's hand. "Everything's just tickety boo."
*SP