*****
Hermione was running down the corridor away from the Great Hall, wanting only to go somewhere to escape the open staring of the students around her. Harry was jogging along beside her, telling her to calm down and think of the baby.
She suddenly ground to a halt. "Oh God," she said, "Oh god, it's my fault, it's my fault…it's all my fault!"
"Hey," Lavender soothed gently, rubbing her back in a motherly way, "it's not your fault. Did you send a complaint to the Ministry? No of course you didn't."
"But…if I didn't pursue him…if I'd just left him alone…"
"Then he'd be a miserable git," Draco retorted, panting a little from the run. He scowled at Colin Creevy, who was almost in tears because Ginny Weasley had just won the entire 'Who's shagging Snape?' pool. She was demanding her winnings because she was leaving school that night, apparently she had some job that she was starting and the unexpected windfall was just what she needed to get started. Even Ginny didn't know that the pool was close to five thousand Galleons.
Hermione turned on Draco. "At least he'd be a miserable git with a job!" she screeched.
"Actually, he didn't look all that upset," Lavender said reasonably.
"He was probably relieved," Harry replied and then realised that he probably shouldn't have said that. What had happened with Krum was not something that anyone knew about. "He was probably sick of all the sneaking around," he finished, lamely trying to cover up his faux pas.
"This can't be happening," Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief, "I've ruined his life."
"No you haven't!" Draco snapped irritably. "Fucking hell, do you think he was happy? He hated teaching, he always did. He hated teaching potions but he stayed because he was too lazy to go out and find something better!"
They all stared at him in astonishment.
"Well, maybe he's not lazy," Draco conceded, "but you see my point. He's incredibly talented, there's plenty he could do!"
Lavender and Harry were nodding in agreement and Hermione was looking at them as though they were thoroughly insane. She was almost five months pregnant and the father of that child was no suddenly without a profession!
Shameful visions of accepting charity bundles from Molly Weasley came unbidden to her brain. And then hope, the Weasley's had raised seven children with practically nothing, so surely they could raise one.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked.
"I think so," she sniffled.
"You'll be fine," he said, "Draco is right, Snape might be a sour faced old git, but he is talented. You never know, he might find a job that makes him happy."
"Yeah," Draco added, "I hear the Curatorship of the Museum is up for grabs."
Once again they all stared at him astonished.
"What? I'm not allowed to joke about it?"
And inexplicably Hermione started to laugh.
********
Lavender Apparated to London shortly after her friends went back in to the Great Hall to sit exams. She was eager to see the shop that her father had found for her and she met him in Diagon Ally outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. She had taken great care with her dress. Her father was notoriously conservative and he preferred to see his daughter dressed in plain robes with no real adornment. Whilst Lavender would normally balk at the very idea of being seen in public looking for all intents and purposes like someone heading off to a convent, for the sake of her future she was prepared to do it now.
And the shop was perfect. Enid Broomsby, the most popular realtor in Diagon Ally was showing them through the space and Lavender was already imagining shelves filled with beautiful bottles and wonderful smells. The shop itself consisted of the shop front, two rooms at back with a kitchen and a toilet. There was also a flat upstairs that could be included in the lease if she wanted to live above it.
For Lavender it seemed perfect.
"Of course, the flat is completely furnished," Enid Broomsby said as soon as Lavender had shown any interest, "you wouldn't need to do anything to it."
The shop itself needed work however. A coat of paint. Shelves and cabinets and the front windows needed to be re-glazed. It was all within reach.
"How much is the weekly rent?" Milo Brown asked, being ever practical and bringing a frown to his daughters face.
"With the flat included it would come to three hundred and fifty galleons a week."
Lavender looked hopeful, it wasn't as much as she'd thought, but evidently her father wasn't impressed. He was asking what the minimum lease was and didn't appear happy when he was told that a year was the shortest lease they could provide.
"I will take at least that to get the place established, dad," Lavender told him; she was adding a counter and a cash register to her fantasy. "It's perfect. There is plenty of space and a workroom at the back as well as storage…" when he said nothing, she pressed on. "And I could live in the flat upstairs, so it really is a bargain."
"And how do you plan to pay the rent and all of you additional costs if these…products…don't sell?"
Lavender pursed her lips and reminded herself not to get on her high horse. "They will sell, dad. The test products I put in Madam Malkin's sold out within days and she has been asking for more."
"Yes, Lavender, but Madam Malkin is an established and respected business, people will buy from her because she is a trusted name. Why don't you start small, you could supply Madam Malkin until you become more established?"
Lavender watched as every tiny detail of her fantasy store disappeared like tiny soap bubbles popping in the air. "But dad, you said you would help me. We talked about this before school started, you promised you'd help me if I went back to school and passed NEWTS."
"I said I would help you, Lavender, but I also want to know that my money is not going down the drain."
"You wouldn't be! I will pay you back, dad. I know it's a risk, but you have to start somewhere."
"Half," he said, "I'll give you half what you need for the start up costs. If you are serious about opening the shop you will come up with the other half."
Lavender gaped at her father and didn't know how to handle it graciously. How was she supposed to come up with the other half? Hold up Grigotts? She had no idea that she could apply for a loan, and even if she did know then the idea of a business plan utterly evaded her. She could scarce believe that the likes of Fred and George Weasley could have left school and opened a shop and be successful business men right now – and she was having problems with set up costs.
"What about a business partner?" Her father suggested.
"But you're supposed to be my business partner!" Lavender wailed.
"Lavender, I work for the Ministry. I can't afford to be your business partner. I will give you half, that's my final offer."
Lavender scowled. Draco had money, and now that he and Harry appeared to be together again he might well be open to the possibility of loaning her some money – or becoming a business partner. She could at least ask him. His last exam finished at around two and she had no doubt that he would go down to The Three Broomsticks with Harry and Hermione to have a drink and see what was happening with Professor Snape.
The very talented Professor Snape. The very talented and unemployed Professor Snape. A smile began to grow as she doubted her ability to actually ask him. She had never had a conversation with him. Truth be told she was very much like the rest of the school, he kind of scared her. But perhaps he was receptive, and perhaps he could be reasoned with.
And perhaps he might give her half of what she needed.
******
"You really have to lift your head up off the table, Severus." Minerva really didn't know why she was telling him to sit up; she was having trouble keeping herself upright. As soon as his final trunk had been sent off to the Fenn and they had left the castle, the carefully constructed calm that he had kept around him crumbled like a pie crust. They had reached The Three Broomsticks before midday and had begun drinking a drinking binge that was now two hours old and he was drunker than she had ever seen him…and she had seen him pretty drunk.
She was getting more and more depressed as the day progressed. Who would have thought that she would miss that scowling face over breakfast so terribly?
"Severus, if you don't lift your head up Rosmerta will throw us out."
Severus mumbled something that sounded like "Hogs Head."
Minerva patted his back gently. "You told Hermione that you would be here."
At the mention of Hermione's name he lifted his head – and looked thoroughly shocked at his surroundings. "She'd work out where we'd gone," he said with the earnest sincerity of a drunk, "she's very clever you know."
"Yes dear," Minerva hiccupped, "I know she is very clever."
"Are you getting more drinks in then?" he asked her sincerely, "they cut me off last round."
Minerva arched an eyebrow, but she still pushed herself out of the booth and went to the bar. Rosmerta gave her a terrible look when she swore both drinks were for her and thankfully didn't comment on the fact that she had never had a firewhiskey in her life. When she returned to the table she found that Severus once again had his face on
"Drinks, Severus."
He lifted his head and down the whiskey horribly fast. "Oh Gods, what have I done?" he asked breathlessly.
"Destroyed your stomach lining springs to mind," Minerva said disgusted.
"I'm getting married," he said in horror, "I have a child coming and I have no job. Oh my god I'm going to have to hock the family furniture…and it's not worth anything!"
"Calm down, Severus."
"We're going to live in squalor," he wailed and banged his head on the table.
"Oh for goodness sake, Severus," Minerva scolded him as though he was a student, "you'll get another job. You are young and you have many skills that will make you very employable. I daresay that Albus will talk to Arthur and he will get you something at the Ministry."
Severus lifted his head again and revealed a nasty red spot on his forehead which Minerva was sure would turn into a bruise by the next morning. "Nothing with Muggles," he said desperately, "doesn't Weasley have a thing about Muggles?"
"I don't think Arthur would be fool enough to put you anywhere near Muggle relations." She sipped at her cherry brandy and felt a little sick. She decided it was best to slow down. She also decided that it would serve Arthur Weasley well to not let Severus near anyone, Muggle or otherwise – that was if Arthur would give him a job.
Of course he would, she told herself, Arthur would do it because Albus would ask him to.
Neither of them saw Lavender Brown enter the pub, look about until she saw them and make her way to the table. They didn't notice that she was there until she was standing at the table addressing them.
"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, how are you this afternoon?"
Minerva jumped and Severus groaned and placed his head back on the table.
Lavender's bravado faltered for a moment as she looked at the mass of untidy black hair on the table, she looked uneasily to Minerva.
"Are exams finished?" Minerva asked sharply.
"Um, no. Well, they are for me, I finished yesterday – but Hermione is still in potions."
The very word brought a whine from the mass of hair.
"I was hoping to have a word with Professor Snape," she said, "but maybe he isn't feeling the best right now."
Minerva looked at Severus and then grabbed a handful of hair and lifted his head off the table. He looked at Lavender with bleary eyes. "Are you getting the drinks in then?" he slurred.
"Severus, I think you've had enough," Minerva said briskly.
"I'll have a firewhiskey," he continued and Lavender turned and made for the bar.
She decided that she would have to sober him up a little at least if she was to talk to him. She asked Madam Rosmerta to give her something that looked like firewhiskey but wasn't. Moments later she returned to the table with a Butter Beer for herself and a cold tea over ice for him.
"I've been to London," Lavender said brightly. She had just spent the last few hours convincing herself that she could talk to him, regardless of his drunken state she was not going to give up now.
"What is it with young people Apparating all over the country side?" Minerva asked, thankful for any conversation that didn't involve Severus bemoaning his life, "Once you get a few years behind you, Miss Brown, you will realise that Apparating is not such a brilliant choice for long distance travel. It does little more than deplete the strength of your magic for a good long while after. You should only use it for emergencies."
Lavender was taken aback. She had never considered that before. She had often wondered why so many people bothered with broomstick, carriages and buses when they could just pop here and there, now she knew. Then she scowled as she realised that she had been turned from her mission, albeit momentarily. "I'm opening a shop," she explained, putting herself back on track, "a perfume shop."
"Oh now that sounds lovely," Minerva said, impressed by her gumption.
"Thank you," Lavender said and smiled with pleasure, "well, that's why I went to London. I was looking at the shop space. It's a fantastic position, only a few doors down from Madam Malkin. My father is going to invest so that I can get it opened before Christmas."
At this Severus lifted his head off the table of his own volition. He knew Milo Brown (something Lavender was unaware of) and he knew that man had to open his arse to extract his wallet. The idea that he was going to invest in his daughter's foolhardy venture was utterly ridiculous – and something that ridiculous was going to cut through any drunken stupor Severus could get himself in. "Your father is not going to give you money to sell coloured water that people could make at home," he slurred.
"Well, not everyone has time to brew their own fragrances, Professor," Lavender said diplomatically, "and not everyone is proficient in judging what scents go well together."
Severus just stared at her in disbelief.
"Oh pull your head out, Severus," Minerva scowled and shoved him in the shoulder. "You know how to throw a few things together and come up with something acceptable, but less than a quarter of our kind can brew a decent potion, and fewer still can make a decent scent."
Severus was now staring at Minerva with disbelief.
Minerva turned to Lavender. "Severus is of the opinion that once they leave school everyone sets up a little potions room in their home and brews everyday to keep their memories fresh. He conveniently forgets that he failed most of his students."
"I failed the dunderheads," he said in his own defence.
"You failed the majority of your students, Severus." Minerva turned back to Lavender. "I think it sounds like a lovely idea. Would you do soaps and lotions and things like that?"
"I was thinking that would be the way to go," Lavender said. "I put some sample gift packs and fragrances in Madam Malkin's last summer and they sold out. I tried to keep up to her demand, but I got bogged down with school. But I took that as a promising start. What Madam Malkin said would work really well would be to sell a lot of basics, but her more wealthy clients wanted to know if they could get some quality high end perfumes." She looked meaningfully at the dishevelled Professor who had just drunk his cold tea and was looking at the empty glass as though he had just consumed poison. "And while I am very good at doing the basics – I can't make fragrances like you do."
Severus looked confused for a moment and then realisation dawned on his face. "Oh…no no no. There is just no…absolutely not…"
"But sir, hear me out first…"
"There is nothing to hear out." He was sobering up very fast now and Lavender found that her heartbeat was speeding up with him. "I am not doing that!"
"But Sir, there is money in it, I swear to you. You could work out the back, there is a good space for a work room…or you could even work at home. Hermione says you have an amazing garden at your house…"
Severus was looking increasingly horrified.
"And you could work alone, you wouldn't have to deal with customers or anything, I will handle that side of it."
"I am not working for you brewing perfume, Miss Brown. I am eminently employable and I expect an offer from the Ministry very soon."
It was Minerva's turn to look at him with disbelief.
"I am not asking you to work for me, Professor. I'm asking you to come and work with me. We could be partners. My father is going to give me half the start up costs and…"
Oh," he began to smile nastily, "you want money. "
Lavender swallowed. "Well…that is part of it…but I am more interested in your talents…"
"I don't have any money."
Lavender fell silent.
"You could get a loan," Minerva said brightly. "Gringotts would give you a loan."
"Gringotts is not going to give her a bloody loan," Severus said silkily.
"Well perhaps not, but they would give both of you a loan."
His eyes widened. "You cannot be agreeing with this madness!"
"What is so mad about it?" Minerva asked plainly, "it is an excellent idea. You just got through moaning about not wanting to work for the Ministry."
"I said I didn't want to work with Muggles!"
"Lavender is giving you the opportunity to work by yourself! You wouldn't even have to leave your house!"
"Do I have to remind you that I have a child coming in a matter of months? Investing money that I don't have in a business that may or may not turn a profit might not be the wisest career choice just yet."
"Oh stop hiding Severus. You're not going to starve while you live next door to Draco Malfoy."
"And now you want me to accept charity?"
"Oh for goodness sake…"
Lavender watched them argue, wanting nothing more than to hug and kiss Minerva McGonagall all over. She had a wonderful way of being able to cut him off at every turn. Had it been Lavender alone she would have run away by now.
"Hermione would want you to do something that makes you happy," Minerva retorted to his latest argument.
"And you think making perfume is going to make me happy?" He asked incredulous.
"Yes! That is what you have always done for relaxation…"
"No I bloody didn't!"
"Yes you bloody did!"
"I am more likely to fucking wank for relaxation than make fucking perfume!"
Lavender spat her Butter Beer all over the table.
"I don't particularly care about your masturbatory habits, Severus, but I can assure you that you made perfumes for relaxations," Minerva replied unfazed.
"Don't you tell me what I did when I didn't…old woman!"
Minerva hit him over the head.
"Wow, first he gets sacked and now he's being beaten by a woman." Draco grinned at the very sight of it as he approached the table.
"Why is she hitting him?" Hermione rushed over with a look of horror while Harry shook his head and propelled himself and Draco to the table after her.
One sniff told Hermione that he had been drinking quite a lot.
"Well look," Minerva said sweetly, "Hermione is here now; she can tell us what she thinks of the idea."
"What idea?" Hermione slipped into the booth beside him, concerned that her beloved was being assaulted – by a 79 year old woman.
"Lavender was suggesting that Severus create perfumes…"
"Oooh, for her shop?" Hermione asked, "That's a fantastic idea!"
"Oh god not you too." Severus returned his head to the table, deciding that this was just too awful to be part of.
"Well more than that," Lavender explained excitedly, "I was suggesting that we become partners in the shop. We would have to get a loan from Gringotts, but don't you think it would be great? He could work from home!"
Hermione prodded him; "doesn't that sound fabulous, Severus?"
"I'll give you the money," Draco said as he sat down, "why go to Gringotts?"
Severus lifted his head. "Good, you give her the money and leave me out of it."
"Oh no, I'd want you to be involved. I'm not leaving my investment in the hands of Lavender."
While Lavender looked indignant, Severus was shaking his head. "I am not taking your money!"
"I'd be loaning it to you," Draco said with a shrug, "It can't be much can it? How much do you need?"
"About five thousand," Lavender told him with a grimace. It was a lot of money and she expected Draco to scoff at it. When he shrugged again and said that it was fine, she wished that she'd asked for more.
Severus was not so easily pleased however. "So you won't give her the money unless I am involved?"
"That's right."
"Well it doesn't look like Miss Brown will be getting a business partner then, does it?"
Lavender could have cried then and there.
A small army of voices began berating him to reconsider until he eventually struggled out of the booth and staggered to a stand.
"You are all insane!" He declared. "I have had a really bad day and I am really drunk and you insane people are making it worse. I'm going home."
"Severus…" Hermione pleaded.
"Hermione, I love you, I'm going home." He staggered towards the door.
"Severus," Minerva called, "you should take the floo system – you're far too drunk to Apparate."
He turned from the door and headed for the fireplace. He would at least take that piece of advice.
*******
Arthur Weasley stood with Dumbledore at the formal front gates of Hogwarts early Monday morning to watch the heavy grey Ministry carriage trundle out. Dumbledore had allowed two of the schools thestrals to be used for the journey, using the reasoning that the thestrals were faster that any of the magical beasts the Ministry used to drag carriages. He had a hidden agenda, however. Thestrals were highly intelligent and if Fudge decided to keep Lucius Malfoy's location a secret from the incoming Minister, then the thestrals could lead them back.
He need not have worried. One of the Aurors sent to take Lucius from the castle to his place of exile was Kingsley Shacklebolt.
Inside the carriage, Lucius was sitting nervously opposite the two Aurors. He had no idea who was a good Auror and who would tear him limb from limb the moment they were out of sight of the castle, and so he did not relax in the knowledge that the tall black wizard would be there to protect him on his journey. He looked out of the window at the two men who had come to see him off. There was no point saying good bye, he doubted that either would wish him luck.
Ten years in exile. All he had to do was survive them. And then what? Would Draco soften in ten years? He wondered if he could survive in the Muggle world alone.
Draco appeared from the darkness of the castle walls. He looked at the carriage and caught his father's eye. Dumbledore held up a hand and the carriage stopped. Draco hurried to the door and pulled it open.
"Ten years," Draco said breathlessly.
Lucius forced a smile.
"You have to get through them."
"I'll be fine, Draco."
Draco climbed up into the carriage itself and threw his arms around his father's neck. "You have to get through them," he said again.
"I will, Draco, I promise."
Draco sniffled into his father's chest and Lucius held him tight. This was all Lucius wanted. He could go now. His son loved him and that was all that mattered.
Kingsley put a firm but gentle hand on Draco's shoulder. He was not a fan of the Malfoy family, but Draco was precious to Harry, and he did care a great deal about Harry.
"Time to go," Lucius said softly and smiled at his son. "Breakfast will start soon won't it?"
Draco sniffled and nodded.
"Go and eat too much and I'll see you in ten years." It seemed a stupid thing for Lucius to say by way of goodbye, but it was too late now for conversation. He had to be jovial, he had to hide his fear and protect the only person he had left who he truly loved.
Draco nodded again and backed away, climbing down from the carriage trying hard not to allow Lucius to see him cry any more than he had to.
"I love you," he said before Kingsley could pull the door shut.
"I love you too, Draco. Go back inside sweetheart, it's getting cold."
But Draco stayed and watched as the carriage pulled away, racing off down the road and then lifting into the darkening sky. He stood there for a long time, staring at the spot in the sky where the carriage with his father had disappeared and wondering if the empty feeling in his stomach would ever feel full again.
******
Harry closed his trunk with a strange feeling of regret and then stared around the room he had inhabited for much of the year. It was more than just a room now. This room represented Hogwarts and the last eight years of his life. Eight years that had taken him from a mistreated child to the man he now was. Now it was time to leave. He would not be returning to Privet Drive. While his summer spent at Grimmauld Place last year had felt very much like a holiday he would now be going to Wilshire to the place he would live out his life. Hogwarts was finally finished for Harry Potter.
He looked at the stone walls and wondered how many lives they had seen pass through them. He was just one more wizard who had grown strong here.
Draco tapped gently on the door frame. "Ready to go?"
Harry turned and looked at his lover. And Draco was his lover once again. They had slept curled around each other since the night Draco had arrived at his door, and then last night they had made love. Harry was still feeling a little high from the experience.
"You didn't come to breakfast," Harry said, "did you see your father?"
"Yeah. They took him early. I just couldn't eat after that."
"He'll be alright. Mr Weasley will make sure that he's safe."
Draco smiled ruefully. "Yeah, but Weasley doesn't become Minister until the first. So dad has to survive until Thursday at least."
"Your dad is pretty strong. I mean, when I brought him back from the Museum we all thought he was going to die. He was just skin and bones and he was all torn up, but he got through it…and he'll get through this." Harry wasn't entirely sure if his words of comfort were particularly good, but Draco kissed him gently and he didn't worry that he's said anything wrong.
"Hermione is waiting at the door with her trunk."
Harry laughed. "She thinks that if we get to the train early it will leave early and we will get to London early, and for some reason she misses that old buzzard."
"Yeah, well, the old buzzard is going to meet us at the station and take us home."
"Well, actually," Harry faltered, "actually, Ron and Pansy are going to be there too and I thought we might all go to Grimmauld Place before heading out to Wilshire."
"To Grimmauld Place?" Draco looked a little panicked, "For how long?"
"Only for the night. Mrs. Weasley is going to make dinner and we can go in the morning…we could catch the Knight Bus."
"So Hermione isn't invited?"
"Well yes she is, but I can't see Snape accepting that invitation, can you?" Harry looked around the room, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. "I know you don't want to go to London let alone stay there overnight, but I will make sure you can't hear the traffic or the sirens and I'll make sure that the room is really dark. You'll be able to sleep, I promise."
"Do I have much of a choice?"
"Of course you do. If you don't want to stay then we will go straight home."
Which of course meant that he had to stay the night in London. Draco sighed and agreed to stay at Grimmauld Place for one night.
Harry picked up his broom and held it out to Draco; "Can you carry this downstairs for me."
Draco looked at the broom as though Harry had lost his mind. "Carry your broom? Who do you think I am, your House Elf?"
Harry rolled his eyes and tucked the broom under his arm before lifting the end of his trunk. "I assume all of your things are downstairs already?"
"Yep."
"And where's your cat?"
"In her basket, also downstairs."
Harry started dragging his trunk towards the door and Draco picked up the other end of it. Harry didn't quite understand why he wouldn't carry the broom yet he'd grab the end of a trunk, but he wasn't going to complain. "How was your dad when you saw him?" he asked.
"Weird, he was acting very peculiar. He told me to go and eat breakfast and he'd see me in ten years."
"He was probably putting on a brave face," Harry panted. Had the trunk always been this heavy?
"Probably. And in ten years he'll be coming home to the manor. How will you cope with that?"
In all honesty Harry didn't know, but he figured that he had ten years to get used to the idea, and at that moment ten years seemed a lifetime away. He was also rather pleased that Draco was fully expecting them to be together in ten years time. It gave him an optimism that he'd never really had before.
Draco stopped in his tracks, refusing to move forward until Harry gave him some kind of answer.
"In ten years, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine with it."
"In ten years eh?" Draco grinned.
"In ten years," Harry agreed, "I figure we'll be wise old men by then."
"Ten years? Oh yes, wise old men of 29. Crotchety old things with walking frames and everything."
They continued down the stairs to where all of the trunks had been stacked, waiting to be taken to the station. Hermione was, as Draco had warned, waiting at the door with Crookshanks. Miss Kitty was in her basket hissing at the giant ginger cat.
"Oh Draco, I am so sorry!" Hermione looked thoroughly distressed.
"What? What happened?" Draco looked around, everything seemed normal.
"I let Miss Kitty out, she wasn't happy in her basket…and she…well I didn't know that she was in heat…"
Draco's eyes widened.
"And Crookshanks…well…I mean, he was only following his instincts…"
"You mean he…?"
"I'm so sorry!"
Draco lifted Miss Kitty's basket and looked in at his very upset girl. "Oh baby, did that big mean…thing…hurt you?" He looked at Hermione, "You should get that thing desexed!"
"It's not Crookshanks fault! You should have known she was in heat!"
"Well it's not as though I'm an expert in cats, and she wasn't bleeding or making that weird noise that cats make when they want some…and you let her out of her basket!"
"So what happened?" Harry asked stupidly.
"That big ginger thing raped my cat!"
"Well I would hardly call it rape." Hermione patted Crookshanks soothingly.
Draco clutched Miss Kitty's basket tightly and scowled at Crookshanks as though he was the devil. He kept the scowl in place until long after they were on the train and moving in the direction of home.
The train left Hogsmeade Station right on time and while Hermione and Harry felt a little strange that Ron was not with them, they could both look at the friends they were there with and be happy.
Draco was staring out the window, watching the world rush past him and Harry wasn't sure if he was thinking about his father or his cat. Watching him, Harry was acutely aware that he could well have lost him and that this ride back to London could have been very different. He could have been miserable but he was not, just as Hermione could have been miserable but she was not. Things had worked for them and Harry could scarce believe it.
The thought that they were only eighteen and that they still had a lot of life left to screw up played in his head for a moment and he forced it down. They were happy now and he couldn't let fear ruin that. They could be happy forever, they didn't know.
Lavender had papers strewn all over the seat beside her and was shaking her head in dismay. "I don't get this," she said irritably, "Goblins just write gobbledygook, it makes no sense at all!"
Hermione looked at the papers, documents from Gringotts for her business loan. "It does make sense, Lav. There are a lot of clauses, that's all. They are loaning five thousand galleons and they want to make sure you are going to pay them back."
"Oh I'm going to be paying them back," Lavender said, "these documents have Severus Snape's name on them, he'll kill me if I fuck it up."
Severus Snape had woken on Friday morning to a nasty hangover and an owl from Arthur Weasley offering him the Curatorship of the Museum of Magical Arts and Antiquities. The very idea of it propelled Severus into action. He met with Milo Brown that very morning, viewed the shop, put together a business plan over a coffee at the Leaky Cauldron and was at Gringotts to apply for the loan that afternoon. The first thing Lavender had heard about it was when the loan documents arrived at Hogwarts by owl on Saturday morning for her to sign. She had been trying to decipher them for the last two days.
Lavender finally gave in and decided to trust Snape's instinct. She signed her name beside the red X's he had placed on each page. "God I hope this works," she murmured softly.
"You said it was going to work," Hermione said, "you said you were 110% sure this was going to work!"
"It is going to work," Lavender protested, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to have a moment of doubt in front of you."
"Good, now don't do it again." Hermione turned to look out the window, the seed of doubt planted.
"People will pay for them," Draco said, pulling his attention away from the landscape passing them by. "It's a sound idea. He is really talented and you'll make money from it. I don't know why he wouldn't accept my offer though. I wouldn't charge interest and I'd give you longer to pay it back."
"He doesn't think he should borrow money from friends," Hermione said crisply.
"I'm not a friend, I'm his Godson."
"You are a friend and you're my friend at the very least. Besides, Lavender says they'll be able to pay the loan back quickly, so I'm not worried at all."
They all exchanged dubious glances and then looked at the floor.
*******
It was getting late when the Hogwarts Express slowed into Kings Cross Station and Hermione was sleeping with her head against Harry's shoulder. Draco had moved seats several times and was currently beside Lavender, dozing with his head against the window. Harry was finishing the last of the cauldron cakes and Lavender had just had the misfortune of getting a vomit flavoured Bertie Botts Bean and was gagging. There was no juice left and Harry was afraid that Lavender was going to throw up all over Draco's lap.
"I'm pretty sure there's a drink machine at the station," Harry told her.
"That's just great," Lavender dry wretched, "do you have any Muggle money?"
"No, but a knut is about the same size as a Muggle pound coin and the machines accept them."
Lavender stared at him in amazement, momentarily forgetting that she had a foul taste in her mouth. "You're a real little criminal, you know that?"
"I've been told," Harry grinned.
The train was slowing, steam escaping across the platform and they chugged slowly past Ron who was looking his usual lanky self and Harry felt his grin widen. He almost laughed when he noticed that Pansy was opening a can of coke and offering a mouthful to Ron. He nudged Lavender and pointed at the drink in Pansy's hand, and much to Harry's horrified amusement Lavender, who had never said more than two words to Pansy Parkinson in her life, suddenly wrenched open the window, dislodging Draco entirely and crying out "Pansy, don't drink all of that, I need some!"
Pansy almost dropped the can in surprise and Hermione woke with a start.
Lavender scooped up her rolls of parchment and ran out the door and down the corridor, determined to be the first person off the train when it finally came to a stop.
Harry craned his neck as the train passed Ron and noticed Snape hovering close by trying to make himself invisible to the curious adults gathering to collect their children. Ron made the first move and Harry watched as the tall redhead slouched over to his former Potions Master to say something.
Then the train stopped and by the time Harry, Hermione and Draco had reached them, Lavender had already guzzled most of Pansy's drink. Pansy was standing back looking a little frightened.
"Are you quite finished?" Ron asked incredulously.
"I'm sorry," Lavender explained, "I just ate the worst Bertie Botts bean. It was vomit flavoured and I ate it!"
"I have no idea why young people insist on eating those things," Severus said silkily, venturing closer to the little group.
Lavender looked her new business partner up and down and decided that he was nowhere near as intimidating as he used to be. Perhaps it was because he wasn't wearing his black robes, or perhaps it was that dreadful Muggle jumper. "I think Hermione has a pocket full of Fizzing Whizzbees for you, Severus. "
If she was hoping for him to be gruff she was to be sorely disappointed. Severus was on his best behaviour. He had promised Hermione that he would make an effort with her friends and he planned to at least try. Lavender Brown was also about to become his business partner, it would be foolish for them to not speak at all. "Did you sign those documents?" He asked.
"Yep. Here you go." She handed him the various scrunched scrolls and he resisted the urge to say something about the state of them.
Hermione edged past Lavender and wrapped her arms around his waist with a yawn.
"Did you get some sleep on the train?" he asked, hugging her back and pressing a kiss into her soft hair.
"A little bit. How long is it going to take to get home? I'll get some more sleep in the car."
Ron was staring and shaking his head. He looked over at Harry and longed to say something about the sight of seeing Hermione hugging Snape being a little sick, but he didn't need to. Harry mouthed "I know" to him and rolled his eyes. They would just have to get used to the idea that Snape could be civil when he tried and the fact that their very good friend was going to be with him for a very long time.
"Actually, Mr Weasley has invited us to Grimmauld Place for dinner. Apparently his mother has made a great deal of food." He looked past Hermione's bushy curls to where Draco was rubbing his eyes. "And if I know Draco well enough, I would say he ate nothing on the train and I have no intention of getting half way home only to have him go into a fit on the back seat."
Draco scowled but had to concede the point.
"Mums expecting all of us," Ron explained, "and Pansy helped."
They were all fortunate enough not to know what that meant and they were all hungry for some proper food.
"How are we getting there?" Pansy asked shyly. "Ron and I Apparated, but Hermione can't…can she?"
"I have a car," Severus said, "I will bring Hermione and Draco if you all want to go on ahead."
"You can come too, Lav, if you like." Ron extended the invitation that was so obviously expected of him. He had no idea that Harry and Hermione had become so close to her, but then, it had been a pretty big year.
"I can't, sorry," Lavender offered up a big smile, "my mum and dad are waiting for me…but we should catch up. I'm moving to London soon, I'll be just up from your brothers."
"Oh cool, another time then?"
"There'll be plenty of us anyway," Harry ventured, "I mean, Ginny will be there, and I'd say your mum invited…George…"
Ron and Pansy exchanged looks.
"Well, yes, George is coming…but Ginny…Ginny has gotten herself a job…and mum and dad are not happy about it…so she hasn't been invited."
"The way Molly and Arthur freaked out, I don't know if she would come even if she had been invited," Pansy said. "It was really scary."
Ron flushed a little.
"Why?" Hermione asked and fearing the worst, "What is she doing?"
"She's not at Madam Maison's is she?" Lavender asked, referring to the brothel in Hogsmeade and then flushing at the horrified looks from her friends.
"Err…no…" Ron was looking as though Madam Maison's would have been a blessing.
"What's she doing?" Harry asked, deciding it had to be something pretty bad.
"Let's go home," Ron said in a strangled voice, "I have no doubt my mum will tell you over dinner." And then he smiled, because he suddenly realised that despite his sisters' wayward life, they had come through it all. "Let's go home," Ron said again, "Let's get some champagne and celebrate."
Harry grinned and grabbed Draco's hand as they started off towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. "Yeah, let's have a fucking party!"
*******
Lucius Malfoy was cold. Too cold. He was well aware that a warming charm had been placed over the carriage, but he did not feel it. He had wondered briefly if it was fear that was chilling him, but he'd dismissed it quickly when he glimpsed the first traces of snow.
They had been travelling for hours, the carriage sluicing unnoticed through the sky as it spirited him away to wherever in the world he was going. He could not tell what direction they had taken but now thought that they must have been going north. Or south. There was ice south wasn't there? But not like this. There was no colour outside now. There was no richness of earth and trees, nothing green or brown or blue. There was only white outside. The world here was covered in a thick blanket of snow and ice.
Where were they taking him?
Far off in the distance he could see a storm, a blizzard perhaps, and they were heading towards it. They were sending him somewhere that had blizzards. Would the accommodation be suitable? Was he to live in something akin to an igloo?
He needed one of those big coats made of animal skin like the Eskimos wore. He needed something if he wasn't going to freeze to death. He had never considered that his magic had been responsible for keeping him warm or cool. It was as though the loss of it had removed an intrinsic part of himself. The part that kept him warm, or told him what direction he was facing. He had lost his powers to be sure, but somehow he had lost more than that. He wondered if he would ever get it back again.
They must be going north. He had visited Iceland as a child and he was certain that this place looked similar, but they were certainly not heading towards any civilised area that he could see. Looking down at the ground he found that he could see little at all. They were sending him to some remote place. Somewhere that no one could find him.
Somewhere that had blizzards.
A shift in the carriage told him that they were heading now towards the ground. Somewhere down in all that white was the place he was going to live.
But there was nothing down there. What could possibly be down there? A cave? An Ice cavern? Were such places habitable in this kind of cold?
There would be someone else there too. An Auror or someone else of their ilk. So there had to be something habitable down there.
The Aurors had not said a word to him, although he could sense that the black one was more receptive to conversation than the white one. The white one looked a little mean and he would not be surprised to know that he had once spat on Draco at a party.
Lucius looked out the window again and realised that they were getting closer to the ground. The carriage was being buffeted by winds and he felt sick suddenly. His stomach rolled at the prospect of getting out of the carriage and heading into Merlin only knew what. He took a deep breath, inhaling sharply through his nose and feeling his nostrils flare. He began to fidget, as he always did when he was nervous. He straightened his robes, flattened his hair and looked out the window.
What if they hurt him? Could he stand it? He would have to. He had to last. He had promised Draco that he would come back and he had always made a habit of keeping the promises he made his son.
But he'd had enough pain to last a thousand lifetimes.
They hit the ground hard and the carriage slowed quickly, grinding to a halt in the snow. Lucius looked again out the window and saw nothing. He quickly swivelled around to see out the other side of the carriage and found nothing there either.
Kingsley swung the door open and climbed out. "This is it, Lucius," he said.
Lucius wanted to say that there was nothing there, that they must have made a mistake, but the mean looking wizard still in the carriage looked as though he would love an excuse to slap him, so he climbed out into the icy wind.
He instantly began to shake. It was colder than he could ever have imagined and the wind that whipped around him felt as though it would cut through him as easily as a blade. The skin on his face and hands reddened and began to sting within seconds, and his feet, sinking slowly into the snow, began to freeze.
Kingsley got back into the carriage and Lucius began to panic. "There's nothing here!" he shouted over the wind and Kingsley gave him a regretful look before the carriage pulled away. Lucius looked around him, terror creeping over his body. They were just leaving him there! How long did it take to freeze to death? It couldn't take long, especially since he was wearing summer weight robes. A matter of minutes perhaps. He hoped it would be that quick. He didn't want it to be long and drawn out.
The storm he had noticed earlier was moving closer, so he reasoned that if the cold didn't kill him then the storm would.
He turned in a circle on the spot and when he finished, filled with despair, a tiny wooden cottage appeared from out of the sea of white. He swallowed hard.
A door opened and a figure, hooded and cloaked, appeared in the frame. He hesitated, wondering if it would be better to stay out in the snow and freeze. But his body wouldn't allow it. He instinctively made for the warmth that must be in the cottage, his frozen feet stumbling every few steps, and when he reached the door the figure stepped aside to let him in.
It was warm. Wonderfully warm. A fire was blazing in the stone hearth. Something was cooking, something that smelled like soup or stew or something that would be wonderfully nourishing in the face of the cold. He didn't know if he was allowed any of it, but he decided that he was willing to beg.
"I wasn't allowed to help you inside," his companion said, "but I knew you'd make it."
He was still shivering in his damp robes, but he spun very fast at the sound of the voice. He frowned, and then she pushed the hood away from her face.
"Are you surprised?" She asked and when he mutely nodded she added; "I hope it is a pleasant one."
He couldn't speak, but everything was falling into place. Arthur Weasley didn't care about him, so why would Fudge have Lucius killed to get back at Weasley? Not when this was a thousand times more effective.
"I can't remember your name," he said politely, deciding that it would serve him well to be nice to her. "I'm sorry."
"That's alright, Lucius. My name is Ginny."
He stared at her in wonder. She was pretty, Autumnal, with russet red hair that went to her waist and a finely boned face. Why would she do this? Why would she do this to her family?
He was hardly going to complain.
"There is a change of clothes for you in the bedroom, Lucius. Why don't you go and get changed and I will get you something to eat. We need to sit down and get to know each other better. In fact I think we are going to get to know each other very well indeed."
*******
THE END
********
NOTES:
Epilogue to come…
Thanks to Skintwo who stepped up and beta'd this when no one else would!