55. Thunder and Lightning

"Harry, are you listening to me?"

He could hear Hermione's voice, her voice in the here and now, through screams and panicked crying and battle sounds.

"I'm trying!" He gritted out through his teeth. His head was hidden between his knees, his arms over his head to hide him. To try and make him feel safe when his body shouted at him to run, to fight, to get away, to kill the bastards before they killed him, or worse, killed Hermione.

He needed her to be safe. Safe from that cackling laughter. Safe from those flashes of green and red light. Safe from the purple curses that turned everything it touched to pain and dust. She needed to be safe. And she wasn't. She wasn't. And he was hiding and why was he doing that? He couldn't hide when Hermione was in danger. He had promised himself he would never hide if she was in danger. Just as he had promised her that he would never seek out danger, seek out battle, if she couldn't be with him. They were safer together and right now she wasn't safe, she wasn't safe. Not safe. Nothing was safe. Nothing …

He recoiled at a booming sound.

Something touched his back and he shouted, but it didn't hurt, it was … it was a careful hand. A hand stroking down his back, slowly and gently.

"Harry, Harry you are safe. I am safe. We are safe. Do you hear me? We are safe. The battle is over. The war is over. We are safe."

Hermione. Safe. They were safe. The war had been over for months now. Because … because he had married the enemy. Married Voldemort. For a truce. For peace. It had worked. And Hermione was still with him.

Someone screamed while others cursed. He could feel the cold, bloody ground beneath him, but also the thick carpet of his drawing room.

Hermione was still with him, but so was the war.

That damn war.

Harry brought his lower arm to his face and bit down. He focused on the pain. Focused and forced the screams and the pain and the fear back. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. Sometimes it made it worse. Real, here and now pain mingled with old history pain and fear.

"That's enough now, Harry, if it hasn't worked now, it won't work." Hermione's hand around his arm, making him let go. "And I thought we agreed that a Stinging Hex leaves less damage."

Harry shuddered at a painful scream that suddenly broke off and vanished. A life had been snuffed out just then. He knew that. He just didn't know who. He should have known who. At least if it was an ally or an enemy. But he didn't and the battle continued.

"No, no change yet," he heard Hermione say and he focused on her. On her voice. On her presence next to him. She was safe. He was safe. They were safe. The battle was over. Long over. So was the war. He had to remember that. Believe that. Live that reality, and not these horrible memories.

"What about that special Calming Draught you made him?" asked a low, mild voice. A voice Harry knew now. A voice he thought he could trust. At least he could on other days. But not today. Today his mind was … not right. Today he would fight anything and anyone that came too close, except Hermione. Today he was still in the war, far too much in the war. He knew that. He knew that the war was over, truly over, that all that was left was memories. Horrible, bloody memories. Grief and memories. Regrets and memories. Hate and memories. So many memories.

"The potion will force him to calm down, but it won't be able to get him out of the war and that makes it worse for him. To be forced to be calm when he believes he is in danger. He has asked me not to use it in these situations unless he poses a danger to himself or others. I have only had to do it twice; I very much don't want to do it again."

"I understand. The pain from the soul shard will most likely begin in the next hour, and he has been like this since before tea. What would you say are the chances that he will get better before the pain begins?" The voice was calm and the tone neutral, but Harry could hear an urgency beneath it.

"Not good at all, Slytherin. And the pain will just make him more upset, and most likely violent. Who wouldn't want to protect themselves against such pain?" Hermione's voice was sad, so sad.

"Hermi?" his voice sounded like he had been screaming for hours and his throat was raw. Right, right, it was one of those days, of course he was screaming.

"I'm here, Harry, I'm right here." She took his hands in hers. "I'm here and I'm safe. We are both safe. Remember?"

"Yeah, I do, mostly. It's just so … loud, today."

"Any specific time or place you can recognise?"

"No, a jumble of several battles and ambushes, I think."

She nodded. "I'm casting a cleaning charm on you now, you are all sweaty."

He nodded and she cast. She didn't mention the tears or the snot he knew had to be there, nor the blood on his lips and throat.

"Do you want a general healing potion for your throat and scratches?" She held a small vial out to him, and he downed it without hesitation. He could always trust her to do what was best for him, even when he couldn't trust himself, or maybe especially then. "Some water too." She gave him a glass and refilled it when he emptied it. "Can you move a bit now? You have been sitting all curled up for hours."

"Help me up, please."

She jumped up and hauled him to his feet. He could feel his body's protest because it had been curled up for so long and in such a cramped and uncomfortable position. It felt good to change position and stretch a bit. A loud explosion sounded, and bright orange light flared in his peripheral view. He spun around and saw the wall of his drawing room and the open door into his bedroom. Nothing else, not now. He shook his head hard.

"Not over. A bit quieter right now, but not over," he mumbled.

"That's alright, Harry, you can hear me and speak to me, so that's alright. You will get through this shitty day as so many others. I will do whatever I can to help. So will Slytherin."

Harry turned and looked at Hermione before following her gaze to the man standing at the door to the hallway. The door was closed behind him. Harry blinked. He couldn't remember seeing Voldemort that day, but then, he couldn't remember much of that day at all.

"Oh, hi," Harry said.

"Hello, Harry," Voldemort answered.

Hermione took one of his hands. "Harry, in not too long the soul shard will begin to act up. Any thoughts on how you want to do this?"

Harry shook his head, and continued to shake it. "That's not good. That's not good at all. Not now. Absolutely not."

Hermione caught his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. "I know that. We all know that. But you can't avoid it. So how should we do it when you can't avoid it?"

Trapped, trapped, trapped! Can't escape! Can't get away! Have to get away!

"Harry, stay with me. Stay with me now. Do you want me to stay? Or should I go?"

"Not go! You can't go!" He placed his hands around her wrists, her hands still held his face. "You can't!"

"That's alright," she said calmly. "Then I'm staying. But Harry, I can't touch you when it begins. It would hurt you and upset you even more. No one can touch you but Slytherin."

"You can't go!" He flinched away from her when he realised that he put too much pressure on her wrists. He let go and backed away, but she still held him fast.

"I'm not going anywhere, Harry. I'm staying with you. Always. I'm only asking how I should stay with you. What would help the most? Would it be good if I read to you? I can't touch you, but then you would hear my voice and I would stay close."

Loud screams sounded behind him and he jerked, but forced himself to stay still. Forced himself not to turn around, not to try to save the voice, the too small voice, that begged for help. Begged to see her mum. Begged for the pain to stop.

"Oh, Harry. I'm not going anywhere." Hermione dragged him closer and hugged him when tears began to spill down his face again. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. I'm safe. You are safe. We are safe. The war is over. It's over. Truly over, Harry. Listen to my voice. It's over. No one is dying now. No one. We are all safe."

Harry hugged her back. Desperately. He hugged her like he would never let her go, because he wouldn't. And the tears didn't stop and the sobs shook his body.

"Harry, Harry, I'm here. We are safe. The war is over. The battle is done. It's done, Harry." She stroked his back. "It seems that you will be reading, Slytherin. Nothing heavy. Try that fantasy novel, maybe. He probably won't be able to follow much, anyway."

"I have no trouble with reading, but where will you be?"

Hermione manoeuvred them around and backed Harry down into the permanently transfigured sofa that made it easier to sit together for longer periods of time.

"I will be right here. I can't touch him as a human, but he needs me close to remember I'm here and alive, and we have done something similar before so … Do not make me regret trusting you with this, Slytherin."

"What I learn in this room, will stay in this room. You have my word, Granger."

"Good."

Harry felt her draw away, just a bit, and then she changed between one breath and the next. Where Hermione's human shape had been the moment before, now stood a big black panther with completely black eyes. She pushed against him, and he grabbed her and hugged her close. The big cat began to purr and jumped up to sit between his legs. He leaned in and hid his face in her flank to let her purring sound fill him. She was here, right here with him. She was safe. They were safe and together. They were safe now.

"Ah, yes, that will indeed make a difference," Voldemort said and slowly came over to the sofa. "Harry, will you permit me to sit behind you now, before there is any pain?"

Harry swallowed and listened to Hermione's deep purr.

"Yeah, alright." He knew he had to, knew how bad things could become if he experienced that kind of uncontrollable pain when his mind was … not right. He focused so hard on the great cat in his arms and the incessant purring that he barely noticed Voldemort slip in behind him, banish his shirt and coax him to lean against Voldemort's naked chest, before he managed to put a blanket between the cat and Harry. Harry had to focus on the cat and the sound. If he focused hard enough, the other sounds, the memory sounds, decreased a bit. They didn't disappear, but it became easier to stay in the here and now and not react to the sounds or the scenes that weren't really there.

It wasn't there. It wasn't happening.

Hermione was safe. They were both safe.

The war was over.

The big cat butted her head into his chest and then looked right at Voldemort and huffed before butting Harry again and forcing him out of the new spiral of panic. He buried his hands in her fur and his face in her neck, and she purred so he could feel it in his chest. Like thunder. Oh. Thunder. Not Hermione. Thunder. That made sense. She had spent a lot of time and energy helping him today. It would feel good with a break. He wished he could do the same. Just hide in another shape. They hadn't tried to calm the soul shard while he was in another shape yet, and today was not the day for experiments, but he thought it would be worth a try. For future days like this, if nothing else. There would be future days like this, of that he had no doubt.

"I do not speak cat, Granger," Voldemort said. "I do not understand what you want me to do."

"Not Hermi," Harry said while he scratched behind her ears. "It's Thunder. 90% big cat and 10% human. Just enough to know not to maul or kill the two-leggers, to go outside to do her business and to stay by me right now."

Harry wasn't entirely certain about his theory, but it would be close enough to make no practical difference. And if he was wrong, if Hermione was much more aware than that, Hermione wouldn't tell on him to Voldemort.

Voldemort didn't have to say anything aloud for Harry to know he had questions, so many questions. Harry could practically hear them in the air. He also knew that even if Hermione had let Voldemort in on this much of the secret, she hadn't given Harry leave to tell Voldemort anything more.

"Why did you call her Thunder? That was meant as a name, I take it? Is it because of the loud purring?"

That question was harmless enough to answer, so Harry did.

"Yes, but also no. The sounds she makes when she growls or roars truly are like thunder in the forest, and much louder than such sounds should be from a jaguar like her." Thunder rested with her front half over their legs and her head against Harry's stomach.

"Would you like for me to read to you, Harry?"

"I think so … Yes, I think I should be able to listen now." It was even quieter now, with Thunder in his lap and Voldemort at his back. Voldemort was stroking down one of his arms, and Harry hadn't really noticed before now. It was easier to not listen to the sounds of battle and the screams of those hurt or dying. It would probably help even more if Voldemort's voice blended with the mighty purr from Thunder.

"And do you want something to eat, or hot chocolate? You missed both tea and dinner."

Harry thought about it. He was starving, and not hungry at all, at the same time. He was never hungry the first few days after a battle, and right now part of him felt like he was standing in the middle of a battle. But he needed to eat, at least a bit.

"I could try some sandwiches and hot chocolate. I don't know how much I will get down, but I could try."

Voldemort called Dobby and made the request for him and not long after a small platter with sandwiches and a big cup of hot chocolate floated in the air next to him. Voldemort summoned the fantasy novel they were reading; it was book number two in a long series Voldemort had already read and thus recommended. Discworld. Funny that Voldemort not only read books like that for amusement, but that he enjoyed them too.

Then Voldemort began to read and with Voldemort's voice and Thunder's purring Harry calmed enough to eat and drink all he had been given, bit by bit. The battle slipped farther away and Voldemort's words and his body next to Harry's and Thunder's soft fur and relentless purring became the foremost in his mind. Finally, Harry began to relax.

Harry woke up with a heavy weight on his chest and a hissing voice in his ear.

"If I feel hard of breath because of your body weight on his chest, what do you believe he feels then?" Voldemort hissed behind him in the darkness.

A menacing growl answered him.

"Granger, it behoves you to gather yourself enough to consider that sitting on Harry actually might hurt him," Voldemort said icily.

Ah, that was what had woken him, Harry realised with a start. It was actually a bit hard to breathe. He got a grip on Thunder's scruff and hauled her off him with the help of magic. She yowled and growled.

"Sitting on people isn't nice," Harry told her in a raspy voice, and she hissed at him. He yawned, unconcerned. "How long was I out for? Long enough for me to be able to move as I wish now, but …"

"About four hours. I would gladly have given you the opportunity to sleep undisturbed longer, but the cat wanted it otherwise."

"That's alright. I didn't mean to use you as a pillow. Sorry about that."

"No matter. I have been reading a few books. It was not challenging to sit still and be obligated to relax for a few hours."

"Did you continue to read our book?" Harry sat up.

"No, I stopped as soon as I realised that you had fallen asleep."

"Thanks."

They both got up from the sofa and Thunder sat there looking at them with black eyes that still shone in the little light that penetrated the darkness. Harry pondered Voldemort's words. If Voldemort was allowed to look after Harry, then Harry was allowed to look after Voldemort. But Voldemort was pricklier than Harry usually was, not that he ever would admit to that.

Harry grabbed the book they had been reading and handed it to Voldemort. Voldemort took the book and raised an inquisitive eyebrow but didn't comment further.

"She is Thunder, because of the sounds she makes. I'm Lightning, not because of my scar, but because I'm simply that fast." Harry gave Voldemort a small grin and changed to his own black panther form. Both of them were actually jaguars, but the definition of black panthers worked for them.

"Alright?" Voldemort said slowly.

Lightning headbutted Voldemort's legs and herded his husband into his own rooms and down into a chair by the fire. Thunder at his heels.

"You want me to read, do you not? In this book?" Voldemort held up the fantasy novel.

Lightning gave him a slow blink and put his head on Voldemort's lap. His mate needed to unwind and if it was one thing cats could do with abandon, it was relaxing.

"Very well." Voldemort opened the book at the right page and slowly one of his long hands wound its way into Lightning's fur and behind his ear. Lightning began to purr. Thunder huffed, but flopped down next to Lightning. Then, half an hour later when Lightning no longer was able to keep awake and settled himself on top of Voldemort's feet to keep him in place, Thunder washed Lightning's neck and face before she used him as a pillow.

"I guess this means I will stay put and read for pleasure. Oh, the horror," Voldemort muttered.

Lightning butted his head against Voldemort's legs once and purred.

"You know, you are awfully expressive for not saying one word," Voldemort commented, then he called a house elf for a drink and summoned a small stack of books that he settled down to read by the flickering golden fire. Two big, black cats by his feet and a small globe of light behind his shoulder for reading light.

Lightning purred himself to sleep, with Thunder at his side.

XXXXX

"You are really sure that you are alright with this?" Harry asked Hermione for the third time while they worked to ward and protect the room they had chosen as their work room. When they were done, nothing and no one but them could get into this room, nor see or hear or otherwise figure out what was happening in the room. When Harry had told Voldemort that he would take one of the unused rooms and make it into his and Hermione's workshop, all Voldemort had wanted to know was if he should be worried about exploding experiments. Harry had promised to give prior warning if he thought anything would blow up, but that he didn't think that it would, not anytime soon.

"Yes, Harry, I'm absolutely certain. I would not agree otherwise. But I still want that Oath from Slytherin before we do the ritual, this is not something that should get out to the masses."

"I wonder if the ritual will change his ability to change between the shapes he already has," Harry said and closed a rune array by the door to stop it from opening unless they wanted it to, or if they were both unconscious. "Strictly speaking, he already is a type of shapechanger."

"Only one way to find out." Hermione gathered all her hair into a knot on the top of her head and stuck a spare wand through it to keep it out of her face. "Remember though, he does not get unlimited abilities to shift. We will have to do the arithmancy and the calculations and figure out how much someone of his power-level is likely to be able to manage. I know that he probably would survive the same ritual that we did, but seriously, no one deserves the hell we went through because of that, not even Slytherin. Gah, sorry, it slipped out!"

Harry gave her a hug. "Don't worry about it, it wasn't in front of him, and you did say that he didn't deserve the hell we went through."

"I'm trying not to say anything disparaging of him in front of you. I know that it can't be easy to hear when you actually trust him and even like him now. I promise that I'm trying."

"I know you are, and I appreciate your efforts. But you know … you have to trust him up to a point too. You fell asleep in the same room as him just a few days ago."

"I decided that it was time to give it a try. If he should go back on his word to you, to not harm me, then I would be able to react faster than usual in my panther form. Also, you were right there, so I wouldn't be alone against him anyway. But yes, I have been around him enough now to at least be … somewhat at ease around him. Enough to trust him not to attack without any warning."

"I'm grateful for that. Before your first visit Voldemort told me he wanted some time before you spent the night in the Manor. When I mentioned it to him again, after our night as Lightning and Thunder, he told me that it would be fine with him if you want to spend the night now and again. Just so you know that you have the option."

"I will probably prefer to put up the tent in the park or on the beach, at least for now, but thanks. Options are good."

Harry hugged her again. "I also appreciate that you agreed to help give Voldemort this for a belated birthday present. Honestly, I don't even know for sure if he wants the opportunity, but I think he will, so … Time to dig up the ritual, put it together again and make some calculations to see if we think we can change it enough to be safe for Voldemort to try."

Hermione nodded and sat down at the table in the middle of the room before she dragged a small stack of notebooks and pens out of a pocket and put it on the table.

"These notes do not leave this room for any reason," she said.

"Agreed," Harry said, sat down and took a notebook and a pen for himself. "I believe I have the first part of the set up for the ritual and at least part of the chants."

Hermione nodded and opened her notebook. "I have the rest of the setup, the security and the rest of the chants."

Harry hadn't lied back when he had told Voldemort that Hermione and he had Obliviated each other to forget the ritual that made them both into shapechangers. Not that Harry had told him that Hermione was one too, but really, that should go without saying. After the evening where she changed into Thunder to keep Harry company, it probably did go without saying.

No, Harry had simply neglected to tell Voldemort that it was a partial and very careful Obliviation. If they both agreed and worked on it, they were very much capable of putting the ritual back together again. Alone, on the other hand, they didn't stand a chance. A little safety net if they should be captured and exposed to Legilimency attacks. As well as a way to make sure that they both agreed on it, if they wanted to share the ritual, as Harry now did.

Voldemort hadn't asked a single question about Hermione's ability to change her shape in the five days since she had done so in front of him. Harry suspected that was part of the reason for Hermione to finally agree to put together the ritual again and give Voldemort the opportunity to become a shapechanger too. If Voldemort respected her privacy enough to not ask questions of either of them, then maybe it was safe enough to admit to having the ability to give him some of the same powers.

Even after writing all of the ritual out on paper and putting the pieces together, which would most likely take at least two weeks of hard work, but probably more, they had to make the ritual safe for Voldemort to use. They would use weeks, if not months, on the calculations and the arithmancy to change the ritual into something that would not rip someone apart and then put them together again, the way the ritual had done with them.

Harry refused to give something like that to Voldemort, even if he suspected that Voldemort would jump at the chance anyway. It had been hard enough to watch Hermione go through it all after him, and then care for her until she was back on her feet again. He refused to go through that again. He absolutely refused. And not just for his own sake either, because he had no idea what he would do with the soul shard in the days until Voldemort could tolerate touch again, after the ritual … No, they had to change it so the cost wouldn't be as high. There was no other way. If they didn't succeed in changing the ritual, Harry would come up with something else as a belated birthday present for his husband.

Of course, neither of them had taken their trauma with the whole experience into consideration, and after two hours of work both of them had red-rimmed eyes and blotchy faces. Hermione because she remembered with painful clarity how it had felt to stand to the side and continue the chant while Harry screamed in the ritual circle, knowing that what she did could kill him and knowing that if she stopped the ritual, he would unquestionably die. Harry because he hadn't been able to convince Hermione not to go through with the same ritual, and then standing there helpless watching her going through the same painful transformation that had ravaged his mind and body.

"Harry, Granger, what is wrong?" Astoria almost jumped to her feet when they finally found their way to the conservatory and the planned tea. She hurried towards them while she drew her wand, ready to cast diagnostic charms.

"Nothing, really," Harry said, but heard that his nose was stuffed. "We just … miscalculated how hard something was going to be before we began our venture. Nothing is wrong, truly." He tried to wave Astoria away, but she looked at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment before she sat down again.

"Malfoy," Hermione said after she sat down in her usual silver chair, "what's the rules for drinking in this house?"

"If you need it, drink it," Draco said with a small smile. "Just don't get drunk before dinner. Bad manners, that." He snapped his fingers and ordered two fire whiskeys for Hermione and Harry. Hermione took hers from the little elf, thanked the elf, swallowed half of her drink and closed her eyes.

"We need to reconsider our timeline, Harry."

Harry took the other glass from the elf with thanks and sipped it. "Yeah, it seems like it. Let's talk about it tomorrow. I would prefer not to think about that anymore today. We can continue the work with the Nomagi repellent ward instead."

"The one that you suspect might blow up in your face at some point?" Draco asked. "And that is better than whatever you were working on now?"

"Different kind of difficulty, Malfoy," Hermione said and downed the rest of her drink before she put down her glass and picked up her teacup.

Astoria was glaring suspiciously at them during the first ten minutes, before she relaxed. Voldemort looked like he dearly wanted to ask Harry what he had been doing, and maybe if he truly had to do it, but he refrained. Instead, he mentioned that Ministry Leader Zabini had stated his wish to be free of the task of being Ministry Leader. He was still prepared to do it, but that role had never truly been something that he had wanted. He had always been someone who preferred to work from behind the scenes. Or at the very least, not in the spotlight.

"Harry, do you think we know someone that we might manage to tempt out of hiding for such a task?" Hermione said and put down her cup for a refill, which Astoria graciously did. Hermione didn't check her cup before drinking, she hadn't done it since before she spent the night in the Manor. If she was able to sleep in the same room as Voldemort, she was able to trust Astoria not to poison or otherwise drug her.

"Do we know someone, or several someone's that might be capable of doing such a task? Yes, we do," Harry said. "Do I honestly believe that we might convince them that they should take up such a task? That's more doubtful. Especially because those that are best suited for the position, are some of those that the war hurt the most. Of course, after such a long and bloody war, there isn't anybody left that isn't hurt at all."

"You think you know someone that might actually fit the position?" Astoria asked and leaned in.

"Yes, two, maybe three that are still in hiding," Hermione answered. "I'm working on them to make them go and get an official pardon and their new identification papers. But to call them paranoid is … to underestimate the matter."

Astoria blinked and sat up straight. "Are you telling me that there are still people in hiding?"

"Yeah, quite a few that I know personally, and probably a lot more that would prefer to stay in hiding in the Nomagi world for the rest of their days, if they haven't left the country without any plans to come back."

"But …" Astoria stopped.

"What would it take for them to feel comfortable with at least getting their pardons and the identification papers?" Draco asked. "Without getting those, life would become uncommonly hard for them when the first post-war year is up. They need the official pardon at the very least, and there will be a fine soon if you don't have the right identification papers."

"I know. They know it too, they are simply … not ready to trust that it truly is over yet."

Draco looked at Harry. "Would it help them to talk to you? Or would they see you as a traitor and an enemy?" He sneered, probably remembering the last time someone confronted Harry in Diagon Alley as the Boy-who-lived-to-turn-traitor.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "It might help, but because he is an old friend who is living in the open, not because he is Harry Potter or married to Slytherin," Hermione said, and Harry nodded before looking at Voldemort.

"Maybe I could consider going for a visit in a month or two? Thus, I give them a bit more time to do it without any prodding and I also make sure they have enough time after my visit to actually get the pardon and the papers."

"Of course, Harry," Voldemort said calmly. "All I ask is that you are careful with your own security, that you bring Granger on any such excursions and that you are back before dinner."

Harry knew that the last point was to make sure that he was home well before soul shard could make any trouble for him, and he agreed whole heartedly.

"Sure can do." He smiled at his husband. "How long do you think Zabini will endure in his position as Ministry Leader?"

"I believe he will be unhappy with it before the Summer Solstice. As I do not want an unhappy Ministry Leader, certainly not right after an insane one, we will have to find a replacement well before then."

Hermione grimaced. "I will mention it, but I can't promise anything more than that. If any of them had been willing to live out in the open I might have been able to badger them into it, but because they are still afraid …"

"No, please, do not use any kind of force," Astoria said. "I would rather hold the position myself for a time, than force someone into it. That is the last thing we need."

"Why don't any of you take the position?" Hermione frowned. "No, wait, I get it. You are all too entrenched in the Dark faction to have such an influential and public position without a pushback from the Light faction." Astoria gave her a nod. "It's the same reason Harry and I wouldn't be any good in the position either. Not so sure about the people I mentioned now. They are all definitely Light, but none of them are as … public as any of us."

"If you get them out in the open and they seem interested, let me know please," Astoria said, and Hermione nodded.

"By the way, Mrs. Malfoy, I'm going to Greece in a few days. Just for a day. The Naga-clan have gotten a chance to calm down now, so I want to try and talk to that Healer again. Did you want to join me?"

"Do I want to go to Greece and meet a whole clan of Naga?" Astoria blinked before a grin split her face. "Count me in, Granger!"

"I'm not sure if I should worry more about my wife and Granger, or the poor, poor Naga-clan," Draco said in a fake whisper to Harry.

"They will never know what hit them," Harry murmured back. "Unfortunately, that doesn't mean they will get good results."

"Granger is brilliantly smart, and my wife is cunning to the core, together they certainly have a better chance than alone."

"Point, but I'm not going to bet on anything."

"Wimp."

"Prat."

"Git."

"Boys!" two female voices said at the same time.

Draco and Harry snickered and at the other side of Harry he heard a chuckle, low and deep. Harry turned his head and met Voldemort's gaze. The red eyes were laughing, but the chuckle was now only a slight upward twist of his lips.

A/N:

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

Hope you liked it! Please review!