A/N:

This story, under the same title and username, is found on Archive of Our Own. From now on I am moving over to that platform, and I will stop posting on here. This is the last chapter I will post on this platform.

If you want to continue to read the story, you know where to find me. =)

I will not delete what I have already posted.

60. Ostara

Voldemort looked out over the Malfoy's biggest ballroom, it was filled with people in flowing, pastel coloured finery. Even after a long war most had managed to find or make exquisite robes, dresses and in some cases costumes. It was the evening of Ostara and they had held the child friendly Ostara ritual with a bonfire a couple of hours before dusk. After the ritual the children had been told about the treasure hunt in the garden. There had been an exodus of people, led by the smallest of them, out into the garden that was full of spring flowers and trees and bushes with fresh green leaves, to look for the hidden baskets filled with candies, chocolates, and small gifts. Of course, the many tame baby rabbits that had been let loose in the gardens slowed the hunt down quite a bit, to all the children's delight. The garden had been a place of surprises, colours, enjoyment and laughter in that hour.

After that there had been some hours of socialising and dinner with the typical Ostara foods of roasted lamb, eggs prepared in many different ways, hot crossed buns, sprouted greens and asparagus prepared in different styles and more. And of course, more games for the children.

During that time Voldemort and Harry had retreated to Harry's rooms to calm the soul shard. The plan had been for Voldemort to read aloud, as they often did, but most of the time had been spent to discuss the child friendly ritual they just had held, the way they planned to hold the more adult ritual at midnight and other ways one could do an Ostara ritual. They had also talked about the symbolism around the festival and the magic they still could feel all around them even after the carefully constructed ritual where the children had been participating. Harry and Granger had agreed wholeheartedly with Astoria and Draco that children should be able to at the very least observe the rituals of the year from an early age, even if that meant that the adults had to participate in two rituals every Sabbath. When Harry was out of danger again, they had joined the ball that had started after the children had been sent to bed.

Now Voldemort stood a few steps away from the altar that was decorated with a light green cloth, small twigs with green leaves, vases with spring flowers, painted eggs and candles in pastel yellow, pink, green and lavender. The ballroom was full of people dancing and pastel colours whirling about. He himself had chosen a robe in pale green with some golden stitching. He was quite certain that Harry had charmed his own robe to be a deep lavender edged with spring flowers in yellow, a light purple and pink. Flowers which continually opened and closed. It was excellent charm work, not that Voldemort had expected anything else from Harry by now. The girl, Zinnia, had had a similar robe, but in addition to the moving flowers, hers had had white baby rabbits and yellow chickens running around. It was also possible that it was Granger behind both robes, as she had shown a penchant to charm Harry's clothes.

"A question for you, husband mine," Harry stopped by him and handed him a champagne flute before he sipped at his own flute and Voldemort took a moment to marvel at the difference in his husband from the first time they had stood in this ballroom together, on their wedding day. Back then Harry had been so terrified that he had had trouble breathing, and difficulty believing he would survive the next few weeks.

Voldemort nodded at him and followed his gaze to where Harry was looking. It was a pair on the dance floor, Granger in the arms of Ministry Leader Zabini. Granger in a silk robe of the palest lavender and Zabini in a very pale-yellow robe trimmed with gold.

"If I invited Hermi, and you naturally expected Zabini to attend, who invited whom to the ball? Or is it more accurate to say that they met at the ball, and this is not, in fact, their third date at all?"

Voldemort looked at Harry. Harry smiled innocently back, and again Voldemort marvelled at the difference in the man. Marvelled, and delighted in it.

"You think about the strangest things, my own, truly."

Harry shrugged. "By the way, Hermi told me earlier tonight that she thinks she will get Kingsley Shacklebolt out of hiding in a few more weeks. Both she and I believe he might be willing to give the job of Ministry Leader a go, given the right kind of encouragement. Hermi will feel him out and report back. I'm telling you so you know about it, not so you will do anything about it. At least not yet. Also," Harry looked at him again, green eyes gleaming in the candlelight, "we are hoping for an extension in the timeline for pardons and identification papers for Minerva McGonagall and maybe two more. Hermi thinks Minerva will follow the children when they move into a more … public … group home, but not before. And because that might still take some months …"

"Have you and Astoria considered where you want this home to be?" Voldemort knew the two of them had talked about it several times already, in the ten days since Zinnia came to stay. Children, their happiness and safety were a cause close to both their hearts. He did not know if any decisions had been made so far. He had been a leader long enough to know how to delegate tasks. If Astoria and Harry worked on a project together, he would get to know the results, but not the plans, unless he asked.

"We are almost certain that we want to use Corvus Hall, a Black Estate. There we can combine the two homes Hermi and I alone set up, and also invite at least one, possibly both of the publicly known homes. Of course, both of us hope that most of the teenagers and children will find true families soon. But until they do, Corvus Hall can be their home. The Hall itself is big, the grounds are huge with a farm attached and it has an orchard with different trees with nuts and fruits and also berry bushes in large quantities. There are two greenhouses and the possibility for both a vegetable garden and a potion garden. Astoria wants Amaranth Carrow to take a look at the possibilities before the greenhouses and vegetable garden is set up. We both like the thought of a near self-sufficient estate.

"Hermi will go there in a couple of days to confirm that the wards the goblins told me about, truly are there and are all in order. If the wards are up and running, they should be even better than the war wards at Malfoy Manor. And I like that very much, to be honest."

Voldemort nodded. He could understand that feeling from Harry. His gaze caught on Astoria who just then stepped around Lucius where he stood talking with his old comrades by an open window, and he saw Lucius grab her arm and hold her back. Voldemort felt his eyes narrow as he watched. Lucius had no right to touch anyone in such a way, and certainly not his second in command. They exchanged some whispered, but obviously agitated, words before Astoria ripped her arm free from his grasp and sailed over the floor towards them. Harry called an elf and held a flute of champagne out to her before she stopped by them.

"Do you want me to break his nose again, because I would be all too happy to do so," Harry offered her with the glass and an ice-cold smile.

Astoria took the flute with thanks, swallowed half of it and scowled at the air. Her ice blue robes trimmed in silver were so light they swirled around her at her every movement. Her long, blonde hair hung loose down her back, decorated with small diamond studded hairclips that made her hair sparkle in the candlelight. Her new daughter had likened her to an elven queen from the Nomagi fairy tales that Harry and Granger had read to her.

"He doesn't seem to believe that Zinnia isn't intended to take the Malfoy Heirship and he keeps getting more and more … disgusting, to be honest. Never mind the fact that she is absolutely incapable of becoming the Malfoy Heir, as per the marriage contract he got me to sign." She gave a great sigh.

"What about Narcissa, does she feel the same?" Harry asked.

"Oh no, quite the opposite actually. She is very close to infatuated with Zinnia, her first grandchild, and has told Zinnia that she is very much welcome to call her Grandmother or Gran or Grandma if she likes, not Granny or Nanna though." Astoria smirked. "Too plebeian for her, I guess. Have either of you seen Draco? I would like to dance."

"He hasn't come back after putting Zi to bed again after her nightmare," Harry said. "I still find it hard to believe that he agreed to let Nagini sleep with Zi, when he himself is so very uncomfortable with her."

"Both our Lord and you claim that Nagini wouldn't hurt Zinnia without a very good reason, and both Zinnia herself and Nagini seemed to like the idea of sleeping together … Draco knows that there is no way for him to escape snakes, so he does his best to get over the fear." Astoria gave a soft smile.

"She hasn't had a lot of nightmares, has she?" Harry asked slowly, his concern obvious.

"No, only two so far. After the first one she fell asleep after a story, but this one was worse and apparently needed a guard snake for her to go back to bed."

"Nagini is rather good at guarding," Voldemort stated and both Harry and Astoria smiled. Voldemort put down his champagne flute on a small table. "Harry prefers not to dance, while I do like dancing. May I have this dance, Lady Greengrass?" He held out a hand to Astoria. Her smile broadened and she curtsied deeply.

"It would be an honour, Lord Slytherin." She took his hand, and he led her out on the dance floor.

At midnight it was time for the second ritual of Ostara and Voldemort led the ceremony as he had done for many years now, even though this was only the second time he had gotten the full effect of the ritual. There was a distinct difference in the ritual's effect on him before and after he had healed his soul as much as it could heal after what he had done to it.

White clad people were chanting and swaying around the bonfire in the middle of the forest clearing. Everyone had already sacrificed something to the flames, some with a specific prayer or wish for the season, other with a more general wish for sun, warmth and growing things. The sacrifices had been everything from flowers and decorated branches to small art works, wood carvings, paintings or embroidery. Through it all he had gathered the magic that all of them gave with their sacrifice. The magic came in trickles from some, in streams from others and in mighty rivers from a few. One of the rivers was from Harry when he wished for a good planting season for all of Amaranth Carrow's endeavours.

Now everyone had given their sacrifice and said their prayer and the magic lay in the air, heavy and sparkling. Voldemort could feel it humming against his skin, heaving under his feet, shimmering on his breath.

Undeniable, intoxicating and everywhere.

The chant had almost reached its peak now and he gathered the magic to send it all and the prayers it held out into the world, and to Magic herself if she would hear them. He felt the magic they had gathered together swell one final time and crest and break free. Billowing in great waves over them and over the land. Several people gasped. Some fell to their knees. Some sobbed in joy.

Now people would disappear, mostly in pairs, into the forest for a while before leaving for their homes, or to the rooms they had at the Manor for the night. This was the magic of spring, of fertility, of renewal, of birth and new beginnings. Quite a few prayers had been about just that. He hoped they would be answered. They needed big families to bolster the population, and if people wanted children, then he truly wished for them to have them.

"Want to spend the night in my tent?" he heard Granger ask Zabini. "Or just an hour or two, if that's better? I prefer the bed to the ground, and there is more privacy."

"I have to get up early tomorrow, but yes, I would absolutely like that," Zabini answered and they too, vanished into the night. Most likely to the beach, as that was where Granger most often put up her tent.

"Voldemort?"

He turned and looked at Harry, the only one left in the clearing now. His eyes glittered in the fire light.

"Your voice absolutely lends itself to song, maybe even better than to talking or reading," Harry said hoarsely.

"Thank you, Harry. Did you appreciate the ritual?"

"I did, a lot, thanks. Do you need to stay here with the fire, or would you care to join me?"

Voldemort wondered if Harry was offering what it sounded like, if the magic was influencing him as it did most of the other people that had been at the ritual. Not that it truly mattered, he would join Harry anyway if that was Harry's wish.

"One of the elves will look after the fire until it goes out. I may retire."

Harry gave him a smile and they walked in silence until Harry stopped by the door that led to his rooms.

"I don't like having sex under any kind of influence," Harry said in a low voice. "No, that's incorrect. I don't like having sex under any kind of influence unless I have thought it through and talked about it with the potential partner beforehand. Which I didn't do today, and now I'm both influenced by alcohol and magic." He swallowed and looked into Voldemort's eyes. Harry's eyes were almost black, so huge were his pupils. "Sorry about that. I should have known how it would feel with so many people attending, and so much magic! It was wonderful!" He grinned before he became more serious again. "I would like kissing and petting and the like, but not any more than that. This is me asking if you would agree to that and join me, and not feel … slighted that that's all that will happen."

"No, I do not feel slighted at all, my own," Voldemort answered in a low voice. "I feel privileged that you would like to share the night of Ostara with me."

Harry took two steps backwards and opened the door into his drawing room without taking his eyes from Voldemort. His gaze had gone from almost glazed with the effects from the ritual, to hungry and full of anticipation. Moments later the door was closed behind them, and Harry stood in the middle of the floor. Voldemort took the last step and closed the distance between them and looked down at Harry.

"Monster, would you kiss me please?" Harry whispered and Voldemort slipped an arm around him to draw him close and hold him there, before he stroked the pale face and bent down to kiss soft lips.

The sudden flare up of the lingering magic from the ritual surprised Voldemort, and he remembered that he had never before shared this night with anyone, in any way. He had never felt the magic this way and with Harry's clear limits firmly in mind, he nevertheless let the magic take him and guide him, and he let himself enjoy it. Let himself revel in the soft lips and pale skin under his hands and then under his own body. Let himself be guided both by magic and by Harry's sounds. Let himself lose himself in touches, kisses, sounds and magic in a manner he never had before.

There was pale, scarred skin under his hands. Scars he still was so careful with stroking. Not because he feared to hurt his husband physically, but because Harry had mentioned that some of the scars had too much of a history for Harry to not notice them in a negative way if Harry himself or anyone else gave them too much attention.

Soft lips gave way under his own. He teased and tasted and got whining noises and pleading in return. He explored the naked chest and toned shoulders beneath him with his hands, his lips, his fingertips, his teeth and his tongue. Hands combed through his hair, stroked down his back.

It was soft, so soft. Intensely soft.

Voldemort experienced it all through a haze. Soft kisses, soft caresses, soft hair under his hands, soft nips of his teeth on Harry's pale skin.

He understood why Harry preferred not to have intoxicated sex unless it had been discussed beforehand. While Voldemort was in control of his faculties, he had to remind himself of the set boundaries several times. Everything was a hazy, soft pleasure. Strange and unfamiliar to him, and easy to lose himself in.

He did not notice that he fell asleep with Harry in his arms and magic humming in his blood. Equally, he hardly noticed when he woke up a couple of hours later because a callused hand was stroking carefully down his arm again and again.

Everything was simply so intensely soft, when it could have been just as intensely hard and sharp and desperate. It was their agreement of the boundaries that did not let the magic take them away in any other direction. Intent was half of what magic was about, after all.

Voldemort stroked down Harry's back, feeling the dips and bumps of the mostly pale scars.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Harry whispered into his neck. "I woke up and couldn't sleep again and I … I have never actually seen you sleep before. I was petting you before I knew what I was doing. Sorry."

"I have told you, my own, you are welcome to touch me." Voldemort kissed his hair and stroked his shoulder and down his arm. Feeling the scars there, too. Harry had so many. He was covered in them. Parts of his body were more scars than unblemished skin. Voldemort tried not to think about the scars, or when he thought about them, he tried to just think about them in a negative light. Even then he could not wish the scars away, they and their history were a part of Harry now, of his Harry, his husband. A painful part, but nevertheless a part of him.

"Yes, but not to wake you, and I shouldn't have done that," Harry said.

"No matter now." Voldemort still preferred to touch Harry than the other way around, and maybe he would always prefer it that way. However, the fact that Harry wanted to touch him, that he initiated contact, any kind of contact, sent a thrill through him and probably always would.

Harry kissed his neck and the magic hummed in his blood and everything was even now so soft. He leaned in and kissed Harry, slowly, languidly and thoroughly until he heard Harry whimper and felt him cling to him. He smiled against Harry's cheek while the other man panted for air.

"You are too good at that," Harry accused in a whisper.

"Blame my teacher, then."

Harry snorted out a laugh and relaxed into Voldemort. They lay still in each other's arms, petting, stroking, sometimes kissing. At some point Harry fell asleep again and instead of getting up and doing one of the many tasks before him, Voldemort stayed in bed with Harry for the rest of the night.

XXXXX

It was a pleasant spring afternoon and Voldemort kept the French doors to his more public study open. The wind blew the silver-grey curtains into the room in sudden gusts and they all could hear Zinnia play in the garden together with Oberon Bandini, Thaddeus Nott, Ramona Shacklebolt and Aletha Shafiq. The play was supervised by Mira Bandini and a house-elf. When Voldemort had inquired about why there suddenly were so many children at the Manor, Astoria had told him that it was a play group so Zinnia could get to know children her own age. Children who were not currently living at the home were Zinnia had lived until recently. Children she could meet with and play with regularly.

Zinnia had celebrated her birthday two days after Ostara, the date of the girl's actual birthday. Half the day had been spent at some hidden location with her former housemates, Harry and Granger. The other half of the day her new parents had spoiled their new daughter with attention, games, gifts and good food, again together with Harry and Granger. And at times Nagini, who had decided that she liked the new Speaker hatchling.

During their meeting with Greyback, Head Bones and Ministry Leader Zabini Voldemort observed Astoria and Draco look at the open door with a smile several times, even if they still managed to focus on the discussions at hand. When Greyback and Head Bones left and they waited for the last people for their next meeting, Draco and Astoria's longing looks became more prevalent.

Narcissa entered the room together with Severus.

"My Lord," Narcissa said and curtsied while Severus bowed, "are you ready for the preliminary reports on how we are doing in education, both among the children and adults?"

"Yes, I believe so. We are expecting a few more people, so let us move to a room better suited for a bigger meeting." He still preferred to know as much as possible about a situation before he shared that information. Considering the upheaval that had followed his order regarding the fact that everyone should learn about the Nomagi world so they could better hide from it, he needed this information before he shared it.

He had just turned toward the door from his study when a high-pitched scream rent the air. The scream became a roar and then a long howl that made many of those around him shudder.

Astoria ran towards the open door out to the garden, because that was where the scream originated. Voldemort moved and got out the door before her. He continued past the now screaming children and the frantic Mira Bandini, towards the place he could still hear the lingering echo of the howl. Towards the beach by the lake. The beach where Harry so often spent hours on end, and the beach where Granger almost always put up her tent. Where her tent was standing right now.

The screaming children were ushered inside by Mira Bandini and some were popped inside by the house elf. Voldemort saw Nagini behind Zinnia, almost pushing her towards the door with her head.

"Draco, get the children inside and guard them," Astoria said, and Voldemort could hear her running up behind him.

"I will stay with them, too," Narcissa said. "Go with Astoria and our Lord, Severus, there might be a need for your skills."

A falcon flung itself from the balustrade above them, screeched and winged straight for the beach. Voldemort launched himself in the air and was close enough to see the beach when the falcon became Harry and landed on the sand next to a four-legged creature that was savagely mauling something in the sand.

Voldemort landed several steps away from the two and just watched as Harry gripped the scruff of the black dire wolf that seemed to be eating the body on the ground. The already mangled body of Fenrir Greyback, who should have left the property half an hour ago and who by no means was allowed in the gardens unsupervised.

"Hermi, that's enough!" Harry pulled at the beast. "Enough! He is dead! He is gone! Enough!" he managed to drag the dire wolf away from the body at the same time Voldemort could feel people come up behind him. Someone gasped, another swallowed audibly and he thought it was Severus that swore.

The wolf snapped and growled at Harry with its fur standing on end and he hit it unceremoniously on the bloody nose.

"You don't know where he has been! We don't eat humans, Hermi!" Harry didn't let go of the wolf's scruff for a moment and only held the gaze of those pitch-black eyes calmly. "Greyback is gone, Hermi, he is dead now. You can't kill him any deader."

The wolf morphed into what Voldemort recognised as a very distressed witch. Her face was covered in blood and both her eyes were completely black, even as a human. Tears ran down her face.

"He said …! He said …!" She growled. "And he touched me! He touched me!" She screamed and went blindly for the body again, hands outstretched, fingers bent like claws, but Harry hauled her back and continued to drag her away and towards the lake.

"Go for a swim, calm down and wash up," Harry said and put a hand against a bloody cheek. "Greyback is dead, Hermi, he is completely and utterly dead. You killed him. He can't harm any of us anymore."

She nodded slowly and Voldemort thought he saw a hint of reason seep back into her black eyes.

"I killed him. Damn it, I killed him, the treaty, my pardon …!"

"We will talk about that later, Hermi. Go for a swim now." Harry actually pushed her into the lake and Granger vanished some of her clothes before she dived in and almost instantly disappeared down into the black deep of the lake. Voldemort saw the sunlight gleam off a silver fin before he lost sight of her completely.

Slowly Harry turned towards Voldemort and the people around him, none of them had so far moved. He waded into land and the beach again, dried off with a wandless, wordless spell and stopped by Greyback's savaged body to just look at Voldemort.

Harry very obviously stood between Voldemort and his entourage, and his friend in the lake, even if his posture was almost relaxed and his expression mild. If Voldemort or anyone else did or said anything untoward against Granger, there was no doubt whose side Harry would be on in that fight. There never had been any doubt about that, and there never would be.

And Voldemort was almost certain that if Harry and Granger let their tempers completely slip the leash, there was little even he could do to control the outcome. Harry and he were very close to equals in magical strength. While his own knowledge of magic and spells still was greater and that would count in a fight, that counted for little when Granger's magical strength was added. If they wanted, they could hammer at him until he broke. There was no question about that.

Voldemort was also absolutely certain that their temper would slip the leash if anyone tried to punish Granger for something that seemed to have happened in a moment of shock and maybe even insanity. It was hard to believe that she would have tried to eat the werewolf, otherwise.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Astoria was the first to speak and Harry stiffened and green eyes focused on the witch. "Granger was supposed to be safe here and Greyback had absolutely no business being out here at all. If anything, it's my fault this was allowed to happen. I have the ultimate control of the wards and I knew that Greyback were a devious bastard. I should have made certain that he left when he was supposed to. By Morgana, there were children playing in the garden! He could have gone after them! It could have been so much worse than this! Not that this isn't bad. Granger should never have had to defend herself like that, not here, not when she was supposed to be safe. I should have made certain that he left!" Astoria almost wailed.

Voldemort silently applauded her tactic and her way of defusing the situation. She had in short order made it clear that she not only took the blame for Greyback's death, but also made it clear that Granger would in no way be blamed and that they ultimately were fortunate that Greyback had gone after a grown witch and not defenceless children. Voldemort could practically see Harry relax more the longer Astoria spoke.

Green eyes shifted to Voldemort. "I never liked him, from the first time I ever heard about him. I have hated him down to my very core for years. I spent plenty of time during the war trying to put him down like the rabid animal that he was. If not for the fact that Hermi and I both are shapeshifters and that the werewolf magic won't take because of that, we would both have become werewolves long ago, because of him." Harry looked down and spat on the bloody corpse. "It didn't stop him trying, though. Only the fact that we are shapeshifters and that shapeshifter magic refused to blend with werewolf magic in any way, stops us from being absolutely covered in bite marks. Our shapeshifting abilities don't heal any other kind of wounds, but those they always healed. The shapeshifting magic is quite jealous of us."

Astoria made a small sound and Voldemort agreed. To be bitten by a werewolf was extremely painful by all accounts. Healing werewolf bites, if they could be healed at all, was equally painful. No wonder Harry had gone hunting Greyback.

Harry looked Voldemort in the eyes and opened the mind door. Voldemort opened his own mind door and could feel how serious Harry meant his next words. How much Harry wanted Voldemort to believe him, and not try to punish Granger for killing Greyback. Voldemort let Harry feel that he was not angry or upset and that he in no way held more animosity towards Harry's friend, his family, than he had done before this.

"We are trying to keep our tempers in check," Harry said, radiating sincerity. "Trying to let memories and rage fade. Trying to be civil towards people that we fought for so long, people that hurt and killed people that we loved. Or at the very least, we try to keep far away from them. We are trying with everything that we have. But the war is still not a year gone, and it's living, all painful and bloody, in both of us. As it does in so many others. Greyback was one of the worst, and I'm not truly surprised that Hermi reacted like she did, nor in the way that she did. But I do know that she never would have gone after Greyback to kill him, without provocation. Not after the peace treaty and her pardon. He surprised her in a place she almost felt safe," Harry looked at Astoria and gave a half apologetic smile. "He got too close to her, touched her … Yeah, I'm not surprised she went for his throat. I … I would most likely have done the same."

"I have a few like that too," Astoria whispered. "People that I stay away from and never are alone with, for my own peace of mind and so I don't kill them in a fit of rage."

Harry nodded. "Then you understand that I'm taking Hermi to a place where she can rage for a bit. Maybe run it off. And that none of you should try to follow." Harry looked at Voldemort again. "I will be back for dinner, but most likely keep with Hermi for the next few days. We won't be anywhere near people, and we most likely won't be human much of the time. And I pity anyone who should find us while Hermi still is in a rage."

In other words, Voldemort concluded silently for himself, do not try to stop us, do not try to find us, and I will be back to check in and calm the soul shard.

There was an almost amused feeling coming from Harry and Voldemort realised that he had thought that loud enough for Harry to hear through their link. Harry mentally shrugged in answer.

*Do remember to keep the link open enough so that the soul shard does not give you any trouble, Harry,* Voldemort sent over the mind bridge. They had done a bit of experimenting with the mental link and Harry's shapeshifting. While Voldemort didn't like the consequences of a too open link when Harry was in another shape than his human one, there was no trouble if the link was open just enough to get a feel of Harry. Just as they did to make sure that the soul shard didn't make any problems for Harry. *And let Dobby know where you are so he can get me if the shard should act up anyway. Please.*

*I can do that,* Harry answered surprisingly amiably, given the fact that Voldemort more or less demanded a method of communication when Harry specifically had told them he wanted to be left alone for a while. *We might move around a bit, depending on what Hermi wants to do. I will get her to agree to keep to the ground as much as I can, instead of the air or the water. And I will call Dobby and tell him to keep an eye on me and get you if there is trouble with the soul shard.*

*I appreciate it,* Voldemort said and found himself surprisingly at ease with the plan. He had not suspected he would be. The thought of Harry alone and unprotected usually made him close to incensed. Why was he almost pleased by this, then?

Granger suddenly reappeared out of the water, water rolling off her in great rivulets while she splashed into shore. Harry lifted his wand and the tent further down the beach packed itself up, shrank and flew into his hand. Then he stretched out the empty hand towards Granger, she took it and met his eyes. A moment later two great eagles lifted from the ground and winged up in the air. Voldemort could feel it when Harry Apparated away from the Manor completely.

A moment later he felt Harry again, far, far away. Quite possibly on the other side of the Earth. And it did not bother him overly much. The whole situation should never have happened, but Harry on the other side of the Earth, alone with Granger … He frowned in thought before he wiped the feeling off his face and turned towards Astoria.

"Very well done, Astoria."

She gave a short bow and then slowly let the air out of her lungs. "That could have gone … so much worse, my Lord."

"It could, yes, but you prevented that."

"Then I am safe to assume that Greyback's death won't have any consequences for Granger?"

"None whatsoever, for either of you. He should have left, and he knew that. He should not have contacted any other people on the grounds, and he knew that. He should never have tried to accost anyone here, and he knew that. He paid the price. But I believe it would be wise to make certain that any … wildcards do indeed leave when they are supposed to, in the future."

"Yes, my Lord, of course. I will see to it." She bowed a bit deeper this time. She was very good at balancing between being a housemate that he lived comfortably with and his second in command that should show proper deference.

Voldemort looked at Severus and Blaise Zabini. The first looked his usual stoic, almost stony self, if slightly wide-eyed. The other looked positively grey. Blaise seemed unable to look away from the mangled and somewhat eaten corpse on the ground. It was not a pretty sight, Voldemort knew, but truly, after a long war Blaise should be more used to mangled corpses. Even if he mostly had kept to the shadows with diplomatic missions and spying.

"You may leave. Our meeting will begin in half an hour, to give people a chance to calm themselves down and clean up." Voldemort made a gesture to shoo them away. Both bowed deeply and went. Blaise looked back once, still grey in the face and probably nauseous too, going from the twist of his mouth.

Voldemort turned towards the corpse. He pondered for a moment while he studied the way that Greyback's throat literally was torn out and the way his belly was ripped open. It also looked like the dire wolf had gone after his heart, as the chest cavity was partly pulled open by great teeth.

"Granger truly hated the man," he mused.

"Down to her core, is my best guess, my Lord," Astoria murmured. "Just like Harry." She shuddered. "To be bitten by a werewolf and then healed, again and again … He deserved worse than he got, but it was necessary to wipe everyone's slate equally clean, or this attempt at peace would never have worked at all. There have already been some fatalities like this, Lupin for one, and there will probably be more in time. People that simply can't survive in peace time after what happened in the war. But to not give everyone an equal chance to begin with … that would have been impossible."

"Yes, there were good reasons to do it in the manner that we did."

"I must admit to hoping that this will be the worst of it. Greyback and Lupin. I hope no one worse comes next to disturb the peace. I am dismayed that both were werewolves, though. We need the werewolves as a whole to be seen as productive members of society, unless we want to risk rekindling the intolerance from before the war."

"Talk to Lucius about it, and Kevin Whitby from the Department for Magical Beings and Creatures. Put some werewolves in good, prominent positions as soon as any opens up. Or make up some suitable positions, if necessary. Tell the press that Greyback was put down after attacking a guest at your home. No need to mention Granger at all."

"Of course, my Lord. I will happily take that direction. Granger doesn't deserve to be put in the spotlight because of this. It is true that I should have made sure Greyback left, after all. And it's equally true that he could have attacked any of the children, should he have wanted to." She shuddered again.

Voldemort put Greyback's carcass in an opaque magic bubble and ordered a house elf to take it to the DMLE autopsy room. He would talk to Head Bones about it himself.

He began the walk back to the Manor.

"My Lord, did you notice that Harry didn't ask if it was alright that he left with Granger? That he didn't even hesitate before telling us he was leaving with her?"

Voldemort stopped walking when he felt a strange kind of excitement run through him. For one moment he suspected that it was a feeling from Harry, but the door between them was too closed for Voldemort to feel that much from him. No, it was his own excitement. He was … satisfied … that Harry had not asked to leave, nor wavered before telling him that he would leave. Harry had promised to come back to calm the soul shard and promised that he would make it easy for Voldemort to find him if the soul shard should cause any trouble, but he had not asked.

So, this was the reason I was pleased by his words, even if I did not realise it myself at first, Voldemort pondered.

"He has never done that before," Astoria almost whispered. "Never just told us about his plans and left."

That was true. Harry was always careful about asking Voldemort before he made plans to leave the Manor, unless the plan was initiated by Astoria, or Harry and Voldemort were leaving together. Harry always asked. In the beginning he had asked very cautiously, and it had been obvious that he expected to be refused. That had gradually changed when he became more assured of his place, and maybe also more assured about Voldemort's regard for him, but it had never completely stopped.

Voldemort looked down at Astoria and she beamed up at him.

"My Lord, I believe he might finally see this more as his home and less as his prison. A home where he might come and go as he pleases."

"Indeed, I believe you have the right of it," Voldemort said and stretched his mind to just brush against Harry's. He got a definite suggestion of speed, a joyous feeling of freedom and an enormous open space and of mighty hooves thundering against the ground, before he retreated.

A/N:

Thank you so much for the comments, the favs and the follows! I appreciate it so, so much!

I hope that you will continue to follow the story on Archive of Our Own (AO3). I might update the story on this platform at some point, but I make absolutely no promises that I ever will update the story on this platform again. For those that do not want to change platform, I am truly sorry.