Disclaimer, I don't own anything except my OCs.

AU where Harry defeated Voldemort in October 1981 so the Wizarding world has experienced twelve years of peace. Featuring Pureblood politics, with a (slightly) less corrupt ministry. Set in Harry's third year but he is not really a big part of the story. As Voldemort was dead he grew up with Frank and Alice Longbottom (not insane) so will be featured but not heavily.

enjoy!

Eira

Sometimes she imagined that she could hear him laughing, the type of laugh that still belonged to him in the days before stubborn politics and a war had gotten in the way of their friendship. She could remember his eyes, the way they would find her across the room, filled with laughter before the inevitable shrieks of outrage in response to whatever mischief he had wrought. The dreams were the worst, grey eyes dark with anger and accusation. She would wake before the sunrise and write letters; to be burnt with the lighter he had lent her and never gotten the chance to take back.

Even in the years they had been married, John had given up trying to coax explanations from her. He had quickly learnt to leave her alone in the mornings when cigarette smoke floated in from the balcony, another bad habit she had learned from him. John had pretty much given up with her altogether, preferring to spend time with his mistresses than his beloved wife who couldn't move on. She wondered how it had taken him this long to realise she didn't love him, that their marriage was a carefully constructed farce designed to please her parents and the society pages.

Perhaps it was a blessing it had all ended when it had, when the Prophet had caught him and bimbo number 4 in an alley and she had finally had the opportunity to divorce the man she had married in the hope he would make her forget. (Ironic, when years later all she wanted to do was remember.) The months following the divorce were an unpleasant blur of late nights and thick coffee, a dozen disappointments rolled into one in the form of one night stands with dark hair and arrogant smirks.

She was quite sure she could have ignored the world for an indefinite amount of time had Amelia Bones not decided to review the Death Eater trials in the summer of 1993.

Remus had come to see her when he heard the news. "Eira, you do realise that this means his case will be reviewed?" he had tentatively asked, and she had told herself that she most definitely did not need Remus Lupin to remind her of this fact. "Why would this concern me?" she had frostily demanded of him. "We were no more than passing acquaintances many years ago" and Remus had looked at her with pity in his eyes, neither of them mentioning how she had known who he was talking about without mentioning a name.

She squashed the wave of emotion that threatened to engulf her and politely demanded that "Mr Lupin" address her by her proper title, acting every inch of the spoiled pureblood heiress she had been before she had met them. Remus had smiled sadly and excused himself with a demure "Lady Hallington" and a nod. Cursing in her head she remembered that Remus, who had always been able to read her better than anyone, could surely see what was going on in her head.

The 27th July was obnoxiously bright. Eira having given upon sleep several hours ago had spent the time refreshing her knowledge of the family ledgers. She was almost horrified that she had neglected her duties to her House to such an extent. From now on, she was determined to forget him. He would be back in Azkaban in a few days regardless whether she put her life on hold for him or not. She had bid the house elves to clean her Wizengamot robes, dusty from years of disuse and disregard, and prepared to reappear to the public as who she had been before the whole mess had begun.

Her father would have been appalled she had chided herself, not to mention what her grandmother would have said. She flooed to the ministry in a swirl of green flames and fire, determined to at least appear stronger than she was. A lady was never to appear weak after all and she had managed far too many years of that already.