Finality I

Daphne, standing so close to Harry that their noses almost touched, drew herself up to her considerable height. Her chest heaved from barely suppressed agitation. This was insofar problematic for Harry as this dangerous distraction would only add to his trouble should he give in.

'So you're telling me,' said Daphne, 'that neither all Defence classes being cancelled nor that loathsome woman's entirely unexplained disappearance had nothing at all to do with your little get-together that – let me remind you – happened immediately prior to her flight?!'

'Keep it down!' hissed Harry. 'Last thing I need is Dumbledore questioning me about missing teachers. It was just a meeting; she was concerned with my lack of attention during class.'

Harry replayed his sentence in the privacy of his mind. He felt a bit ashamed about this particular vice, but force of habit was a tedious thing to overcome. None of his closest friends would take his words at face value anyway – presumably.

'And?' asked Daphne, squinting suspiciously.

'She told me to keep studying Occlumency at all times, and then she – well – fled the castle. She didn't tell me where she was going, you know? There's no need to make me feel like I'm standing trial!'

'You do look a little better, though,' said Hermione. 'You, er, didn't look at all healthy these past couple weeks. I'm glad you're feeling better.'

Harry swallowed the bitter response that sprang to his mind. 'Thank you,' he said instead, nodding politely. 'I've been sleeping better again.'

And that – at least – was the unadulterated truth. For a few hours of confusion, Harry had struggled with himself, torn between his quest for vengeance and closure and whatever had happened in Aenor's classroom, including her extremely plain words of warning. In the end, he had to admit that – no matter what – he was extremely unlikely to finish those sick bastards that had killed the Potters if Aenor finished what they had started first. In the spirit of not dying, he'd also refrained from trying his hand at Legilimency again. Thought it had to be said that the nauseating dizziness and pain (which happened to be about everything Harry could remember from that day) quenched his thirst to prove himself at that particular spell considerably.

His nightmares hadn't vanished entirely, to Harry's guilty relief, but they were becoming increasingly infrequent and never left him feeling physically ill.

'So what are we supposed to do?' said Tracey grumpily. 'I can't believe Rose just vanished! I mean, I always knew she was a crook but …'

'And the exams!' said Hermione for the twentieth time and still as horrified as the first time round. 'We're going to miss so much! Especially with OWLs looming just around the corner. I really do hope Professor Rose turns up again soon.'

'They're next year, Granger. Next year!' Draco sneered at a few passing Gryffindors. 'Maybe she needed a vacation from this dump? Bet she'll turn up right after Yule.'

'Dumbledore might not take her back after this stunt,' said Tracey, sounding hopeful.

'Let's pray he does,' mumbled Hermione. 'This really is most irresponsible of her …'

In the end, Hermione, Tracey, and Draco decided to make the most of their new-found free time and focus on Hermione's Occlumency lessons. Harry, unsure what else to do, tagged along. He was about to rummage around in his bag for his reading when a flash of blond hair made him look up.

'Spill!' demanded Daphne, sitting down opposite him.

'Excuse me?'

'I know when you're playing your game of silly buggers, so spare me the look of hurt innocence and get to the point of what really happened with Rose!'

Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head. 'All right. But you can't tell anyone – neither Tracey nor your family, okay?'

Daphne tensed, shifting a bit closer. 'Fine. So what happened?!'

Harry, throwing a look at the Occlumency club a few yards away, wiggled his wand to cast a Privacy Charm. 'Honestly, I don't remember much, but this is what I do recall …'

Daphne listened attentively throughout the brief recounting of what had transpired in the classroom.

'So,' she said, her words falling into the silence left in the wake of his story. 'You tried your hand at a spell clearly beyond you and it … sort of backfired … or something?'

Harry shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine. But something definitely went wrong, yeah.'

'And that woman really threatened you? How dare she?!' snapped Daphne.

'Well, it wasn't exactly a threat – probably. I think she meant that she might not have a choice next time …'

'Who gave her the right to choose at all?! Uncle Arcturus would flip if you told him, Harry!'

'Er, truth is, I – er – don't think he would.'

Daphne blinked. 'Come again?'

'He … distinctly warned me not to mess with my Occlumency training. I don't think he would be very proud if I told him –' Harry caught himself just in time, and his mouth snapped shut like the jaw of an alligator.

'Told him you've been skipping Occlumency?' said Daphne shrewdly.

Harry scowled. 'You knew?'

'Please, Harry! We might not all be precocious smart-arses, but that doesn't mean we're stupid. I told you, I know you better than anyone else!'

'You don't understand! I did it because –'

'Because you wanted to keep having those gruesome dreams about your parents' murder. Yeah, I get it. I told you I'm not stupid! Why do you always try to keep these things to yourself?!' She huffed angrily. 'Why not just try being open about it?! You know I won't tell anyone.' She lowered her voice. 'I physically can't, as it stands.'

'You're one to talk about being open! Did you really think I'd swallow all those tales about you mysteriously waking in the middle of the night?!'

For a few seconds, he felt Daphne's eyes on him. Then, she gave a long, exasperated sigh. 'No, Harry,' she murmured in a defeated sort of way, getting to her feet. 'I really didn't.'

Memory Lane

If the Hogwarts population (or at least its studious part which – mysteriously – now included most of the boys) had hoped for a swift return of their Defence professor, they were in for a disappointment. Even two weeks after Rose's mysterious disappearance, there was still no trace of her. Rumour had it that even owls failed to locate her, and Professor Snape had provisionally taken over the Defence class. Dumbledore, Harry had heard from Draco, had apparently involved the Ministry in his search for his missing teacher. So far, they hadn't had any luck.

'Maybe she got lost somewhere on the seventh floor?' whispered Yaxley conspiratorially. 'You know, stuff disappears there. It's spooky! That one time I got lost back in our first year, I swear I could hear the sounds of a carousel from behind a wooden door. And when I opened it – nothing!'

Draco put down his pumpkin juice and yawned pointedly. 'Bet she quit. Shame, really, but I don't blame her. Imagine working for that barmy old fool. I'd take the job just to quit with a bang. Vanishing without a trace seems like a good way to stick it to Dumbledore, now that I think about it. Let's hope the next one's a hottie, too!'

'Can we talk about something even remotely relevant, please?' asked Tracey.

'How are you going to get to Harry's, Hermione?' inquired Daphne.

'Er, I don't know?' replied Hermione with an insecure little smile. 'We haven't talked about it yet.'

'Portkey?' suggested Leo. 'Smooth and practical.'

'Practically dead boring, you mean,' said Tracey, rolling her eyes.

'I agree,' said Daphne. 'You wouldn't even get to see the grounds!'

'Grounds?' repeated Hermione, laughing. 'You make it sound like a stroll through the royal palace garden.' Her smile faltered a bit when nobody bothered to correct her. 'Er, you don't live in a golden palace, Harry, do you?'

Harry flicked his tongue. 'Don't mind them, Hermione. I can fetch you after breakfast if that's all right with you.'

'After breakfast?! So early?'

'Well, I was under the assumption you wanted to see the mansion at least – lest you wander aimlessly around later on. And remember – the helpful clerk from Gladrags will arrive by noon. I thought it was common sense to give you a few pointers in what little time remains afterwards.'

'Just in case you don't want to eternally embarrass yourself and all of your descendants,' said Draco helpfully. 'I'm sure Skeeter would love it. She kind of has a thing for Harry, you know. Bet she'll get right vicious towards her new rival!'

'You'll be fine!' said Tracey, patting Hermione's hand. 'Stop scaring her!'

Hermione, looking just a tad green, nodded.

'Rita mostly hates Harry anyway,' said Daphne sagely. 'If anything, she'll go on and on about how he must have coerced you to come with him or how he's using you to improve his image as a scheming, backwards elitist. She'll try to get you to say really horrible stuff about Harry.'

'So, best not to be too honest, Granger.'

'Thank you, Draco,' said Harry calmly.

Daphne waved a dismissive hand. 'Quiet in the cheap seats, Malfoy! Especially if you're too gutless to show up.'

'I'll have you know,' said Draco, turning up his nose at Daphne, 'that I have this very important … thing to attend to. Very important! Shame, really, but it simply couldn't be postponed.'

Daphne rolled her eyes. 'Just say so if you don't want to go with Amy. Coward!'

'I'd love to come, really,' insisted Draco loudly. 'But – alas – through no fault of my own, I'll be extremely busy …'

'Don't worry, Draco,' said Leo. 'It's not like you're going to miss out or anything. I mean, except the decorations. And the free drinks. And all the girls dressing up. And all those flighty, meaningless dances with different women all night. Frankly, I don't see what the fuss is about.'

'Thank you, Leo,' grumbled Draco. 'You never fail to cheer me up.'

'Why don't you just go with Tracey?' asked Hermione.

'Amy asked me way back, months ago,' mumbled Draco, listlessly playing with his food.

'And?' asked Hermione hesitantly.

'And, spineless coward that he is, he didn't have the guts to turn her down,' said Daphne brightly.

'I'm not a coward!' snarled Draco, caught between his dignity and – or so Harry felt – evidence to the contrary.

'So you could turn Amy down whenever you felt like it?' asked Daphne.

'Of course! What's it to me what that bi–'

'Hey, Amy!' called Daphne loudly, waving at something behind Draco's back.

Draco gave a squeal that sounded suspiciously like 'Eep!' as he whirled around. The space behind him was completely devoid of anything Lestrange.

'Stop slagging my sister off, Draco, won't you?' said Leo, frowning.

Draco slumped in his chair, wiping his brow. 'Oh, er, yeah. Sure. Got carried away. Sorry, man.' After a short pause, he added, 'Please don't tell her?'

Harry would have liked to bottle up Daphne's smirk; it might have served as an exhibit to future generations, showcasing what exactly vindication looked like.

'I take it back, Malfoy,' said Daphne sweetly. 'You're a real hotshot.'

Memory Lane

The train ride was as uneventful as ever. Everyone except Amy, who was still determinedly absent whenever Hermione was around, was huddled in one compartment, chatting excitedly about the holidays. At some point, Harry, cramped between the window and Daphne, was dragged into a game of Exploding Snap. In the best tradition of Slytherin, cheating ensued almost immediately; Daphne kept kicking Draco's shin whenever he tried to pick a card, irritating jinxes seemed to hit the boys whenever Tracey was close to losing, and Draco kept blatantly manipulating the state of the game whenever he thought nobody was looking. Leo was the sole notable exception; with a look of great concentration, he shifted his cards without fail, pulling further and further ahead.

'You're out, Daphne,' said Leo.

Daphne frowned, rubbing her singed hands.

'You did better than some, Daphy!' said Tracey with a smug grin at Harry.

'Harry doesn't count,' mumbled Daphne sourly. 'He lost on purpose so he could read in peace.'

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione inspect her bushy hair, which was singed all over the place, sticking out at even odder angles than usual. Despite Harry trying to lose from the very beginning, Hermione had somehow managed to beat him to the spot. His gaze rested on the scorched patches of her robes. She hadn't lost in a very dignified fashion either. Harry's road to defeat was hampered by the fact that he didn't want to ruin his outfit. Hermione, on the other hand, had lost with a refreshing lack of grace and almost unprecedented boldness, regaining her freedom almost five minutes earlier than Harry.

'There are more important things than card games,' said Daphne. 'Don't you think, Hermione?'

Hermione looked up from her attempt to patch up her ruined robes, grinning ruefully. 'Absolutely!'

Draco smirked. 'That's what losers say all the time!'

Daphne's eyes narrowed, and she aimed another kick at Draco's shin.

'Ow! Stop that!'

Draco recoiled, bumping into Tracey, who sat next to him. Tracey missed the card she'd been going for and crashed with her elbow into the stack of unopened Exploding Snap decks.

There was a sizzling sound. 'Uh-oh,' muttered Daphne.

'The window! Open the window, Harry!' shouted Hermione just as the entire stack exploded.

It took several minutes to see farther than a few inches again.

Coughing, Daphne flailed her hands to clear the last pockets of the acrid fumes. 'Damn! Everybody okay?'

Tracey shook herself like a wet dog, thick flakes of soot and ash falling off her. 'Thanks, Daphy! Really great timing. Thanks a lot!'

Before Daphne had the opportunity to look more than sheepish, the compartment door burst open and a Slytherin girl with a ponytail and a shiny silver-green badge stepped inside. 'What the devil has been going on down here?!'

'Just a little accident. It's all right, we have it under control,' said Harry hastily.

'Oh, really,' said the newcomer sceptically, eyeing Tracey's soot-covered face. 'Have you been sweeping chimneys, girl?! Get yourself cleaned up, for Merlin's sake!'

'I was getting around to it!'

The girl with the badge snorted disparagingly. 'Firsties …'

'I'm a third-year!' shouted Tracey petulantly.

The girl looked over her shoulder one last time, carefully holding her ponytail to keep it away from the film of dirt that covered the door frame. 'Sure you are, sweetheart,' she said. 'None of you droopy-drawers leaves before you tidy this up, got it?!' With a thud, the door snapped shut behind her.

Tracey growled, glaring at the door. 'How dare she boss us around like a bunch of house-elves?!'

'Exactly!' agreed Daphne. 'Who does that girl think she is, ordering other people around! Harry? Clean up this mess!'

Harry's thoughts on the matter must have shown as Daphne gave a giggle. 'Just kidding. Just kidding! Would you please, please help to tidy this up? I'd be ever so grateful.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'It wouldn't physically hurt you girls to learn some basic Cleaning Charms, you know?' Waving his wand to syphon away the soot, he decided he might just as well start with Daphne's and his clothes.

'My hero,' swooned Daphne, grinning.

'Get a room, you two,' said Draco, who was busy brushing ash off his robes.

Platform 9 ¾, they soon discovered, was almost as packed as they were used to, but people still stood in small groups, furtively looking around and keeping a close eye on their friends and families.

'Guess people are still worried about the escapees,' said Leo, looking around.

'Who wouldn't be?!' said Tracey.

'I wouldn't,' said Draco. 'Most of them have been caught anyway, right?'

'Still, they are supposed to be dangerous, aren't they?' said Hermione.

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder. 'There is no shortage of madmen outside prison walls.' Seeing the look on the Muggle-born's face, he added, 'Stop your worrying, Hermione. Nobody in his right mind would attack a station brimming with bystanders and Hit Wizards.'

'Oh, my parents!' said Hermione, waving excitedly at the pair of rather conspicuous Muggles. 'I'll be seeing you at the ball. Well, except you, Draco. Have a nice Yule.'

The girls exchanged brief hugs while the boys lingered awkwardly in the background.

'She's really come around, don't you think?' said Daphne when they'd finished their farewells.

Tracey grinned. 'She's not the only one, is she?'

'Fine, fine! I was wrong about her. How long are you going to keep harping on about it?'

Tracey sniggered. 'Haven't decided yet.'

'Hey, guys,' said Amy, disentangling herself from the crowd. 'Nice look, Tracey. Going for a darker style?'

'Wait, what?!' Tracey hastily wiped her face with her sleeve again. It might have helped, too – if her sleeve had been even remotely clean. 'Better?'

Daphne delicately cleared her throat. 'Yeah. Loads. Come one, let's get a move on. You leaving with the siblings again, Harry?'

'Well, I think so?' said Harry, unsure. 'Honestly, I don't know why I have to go through all this trouble. I could just apparate.'

'You're not supposed to!' said Tracey.

Amy smirked. 'You say that like it's a reason.'

'Try not to get into trouble, Harry,' said Daphne, giving him a fierce hug. 'At least until Yule.'

During the train ride, she had decided for the both of them that she was going to stay the rest of the holidays following the Black Ball again. With Hermione around during the ball, staying the entire holidays was obviously out of the question.

'Hey, I'm not Leo; I don't go looking around for trouble.'

'I don't go looking around for trouble,' said Leo, his brow wrinkled in righteous disbelief.

Daphne pinched his side. 'Promise me you won't follow Leo on one of his stupid wild-goose chases then.'

There was a loud crack, and a youthful, excited little elf appeared in front of Daphne.

'Lobbo?!' said Daphne, taken aback. 'What's going on? Did Gran send you?'

'No, Mistress Daphne. Mistress Ophala is currently taking care of Mistress. Mistress Daphne is supposed to go with and stay with her Davis friend.'

'What?! With Tracey? Bu– I mean what about Tori?'

'Mistress Astoria is already being taken care of,' said the elf, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

'What's wrong with Gran?' asked Daphne, bewildered.

'Mistress is sick,' croaked the elf, twisting his own ears. 'Seriously ill! And nothing – nothing Lobbo did would help Mistress! Lobbo is being bad! Lobbo can't even look after his own mistress.'

'What, that old screw?!' said Amy, eyes wide with wonder. 'Huh! Didn't know she had enough blood left in her to get sick. Anorexic old crone.'

Harry cast a quick glance in the direction of the elf, but – thankfully – the little creature was still busy punishing itself for some imagined neglect of duty.

'Tactful,' muttered Leo. After a second, he added, 'You've got a point though.'

Draco made a face. 'Imagine taking care of that wizened hag. Ugh!'

If Daphne was offended by these rather unflattering descriptions of her grandmother, she hid it with hitherto undisclosed professional acting skills. She shot a helpless look at Tracey. 'Er, so, erm – can I, you know –'

'Absolutely!' said Tracey, standing on her toes to pat Daphne's shoulder. 'It'll be fine. And you kept complaining that it's been ages since you've stayed over, right? Consecutive ladies' nights, here we come!'

'But what about clothes?!' said Daphne. 'I've only got my Hogwarts stuff.'

'Lobbo is to fetch whatever Mistress needs,' said the elf, bowing again. 'But later – Lobbo must go now, buy supplies from the apothecary. Buy medicine to help heal Mistress. Oh, poor Mistress!'

With another crack, the elf was gone.

'I wonder what's wrong with Gran,' said Daphne. 'I mean, she's a vicious ol' biddy; I always thought her belligerence could take on any germ.'

'Dragon Pox?' suggested Harry, his guts squirming. 'They're quite serious for older people. Might also be why Ophala doesn't want you to visit.'

'Oh, no!' said Daphne, holding a hand in front of her mouth in shock and shifting away from the spot the elf had departed. 'Dragon Pox is highly infectious, isn't it? Why didn't they simply send her to St Mungo's?'

'Infectious, yes,' admitted Harry. 'But I don't think house-elves can get it, so Lobbo couldn't transmit the disease. And you can only get it once, remember? Maybe Ophala's immune already.'

'Not to mention a private ward at St Mungo's costs an arm and a leg,' said Leo.

'Yeah,' said Daphne, shoulders drooping. 'I think Mum's still paying off her last stay. Let's hurry. Tracey, I wanna use your Floo! Talking through the Floo is fine, isn't it, Harry?'

Harry scratched his chin. 'It should be.'

'All right,' said Daphne, looking grim. 'Let's go. I need to talk to Mum.' She dragged Tracey away by her hand, towards the public Floo.

'Well, I don't want to keep my parents waiting or we'll be treated to another show of Mother making a fuss about Harry. See you guys after the holidays,' said Draco, vanishing in the crowd.

'You know,' said Amy thoughtfully, 'it is a bit strange, isn't it?'

'What is?' asked Leo.

'Daphne's grandmother knows a lot of people, doesn't she? That's what she does – talking to people, making connections, that sort of thing. I somehow can't imagine she's so poor off that she can't afford a private ward. Cousin Ophala, sure, I mean she's always been a bit hesitant about accepting money from her mother but …'

'I'm sure it's nothing to worry about,' said Harry. 'And stop calling her cousin. It's weird when she's your parents' generation.'

Amy ignored that. She turned to look at him, her steel grey eyes wide awake. 'Are you telling me you're sure it's nothing? Or maybe that you're sure what it is and it's nothing? Or, perhaps, that it's something but not worth worrying about for us specifically?'

'I sometimes really wish I was a Muggle-born,' lamented Harry loudly. 'They don't know how tedious overly suspicious relatives are.'

Leo laughed but Amy didn't.

'You're one to talk,' said Amy. 'You're the worst of us by far! It'd take a wild herd of Thestrals to yank a straight answer out of that clever mouth of yours.'

'Thank you – I guess?'

'Come on,' said Leo. 'I think I saw Mother looming in the shade of the pillar over there.'

'Oh, joy!' said Amy sarcastically. 'Home sweet home. I can barely wait.'

The three of them pressed onwards through the throng of people. Not that much force was necessary; everyone who recognised Amy, Leo, or Harry jumped out of their way as if it was them with the Dragon Pox. A couple of patrol officers from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were eyeballing them, muttering amongst themselves.

'Black Death take them!' mumbled Amy. 'Chav scum.'

A one-armed Hit Wizard with a face like a crater landscape who was leaning against the railing in a very laid-back fashion, narrowed his eyes, scowling at them.

'Keep your voice down, for Merlin's sake!' hissed Harry.

'But it's true! Look at them, bunch of amateurs and scum. Most of them can barely tell the tip of a wand from its grip! That guy over there looks so gormless it makes me wonder if he had help filling out his job application form.'

'Be that as it may,' said Harry with a strained smile at the louring man in the heavy cloak, 'there's a time and place for saying such things.'

'Hey, you!' rumbled the man. A hairy, scarred hand landed on Harry's shoulder so heavily that his knees buckled. 'Name?'

'What?!' spat Amy snappishly. 'Looking for sixteen-year-old escapees? Be a good dog and sod off!'

'Name!' growled the man, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth. Harry thought the man was as likely to understand higher Arithmancy as he was to crack a joke.

'Don't you recognise the Minister's nephew?' said Amy, crossing her arms. 'Lay off if you don't want to get into trouble with your boss, cur!'

The man snarled but – inspecting Harry's immaculate robes – reluctantly removed his hand. 'Should get a move on if I was you,' he grumbled, his voice as raspy as sandpaper. 'Before your girl gets you into trouble. You! Name?!' he said, pointing at Leo.

'Leandros Lestrange.'

The man nodded, waving them off dismissively.

'The Minister's nephew?' mouthed Harry, amused.

But Amy wasn't looking particularly entertained. Not sparing the man another look, she dragged Harry away. 'By all that is holy … they get more trollish each year! How thick can they get?!'

'Hey, wait a second, you two,' said Leo, holding out his arm in front of his sister.

'What is it?' asked Amy. 'Can't we get a move on already?'

'No – wait! I'm serious!' He pointed towards a small alcove that was hidden from view, beckoning them to follow.

'Well?' demanded Amy, huddled in the shadow of the brick arch.

'Don't you feel like … the recruiting standards for DMLE patrols have taken a serious hit?' said Leo, spying around the corner.

Amy made a face that suggested she didn't follow part of the sentence. 'Standards?' she repeated disbelievingly. 'They'll take anyone with an E in Defence. Preferably they also have a bulky frame, some crackpot Muggle family name, a mindless sort of obedience, and a drooling expression of confusion whenever confronted with maths you can't solve with your fingers.'

'Bet you anything the guy that held us up is their sergeant-at-arms,' said Harry, grinning.

'I'm serious,' said Leo, frowning. 'It's usually the old-timers hanging around the station. Did you recognise even a single one of these so-called officials, Harry?'

Harry's grin turned sour. 'No. But I don't work at the Ministry, do I? Maybe it's the … B Team or something?'

'If that's the B Team,' said Amy, 'I shudder to think what the C Team's like.'

'Shouldn't we, you know, check it out?' asked Leo.

Harry shot his cousin a glance. And sure enough – there it was; hidden behind Leo's seemingly impassive gaze, he recognised the familiar and terrible spark of fiery curiosity, that damnable sense of adventure that in the past had landed them in trouble over and over. He also remembered Daphne's words. 'No! Let's just find Auntie Bella and leave. This really isn't any of our business.'

Amy shivered. 'I'll never refer to Ophala by cousin again if stop calling Mother auntie, deal? It gives me the creeps!'

Harry laughed. 'Yeah, all right.'

They sidled through the shadows of the wall towards the spot Leo had seen his mother, staying as far away as possible from the men flanking the passage to Muggle London. They, too, seemed to be checking all the boys around their age for their names.

'Maybe someone's scarpered without permission slip?' suggested Leo in a hushed voice.

'Really,' said Amy sceptically. 'And Dumbledore immediately calls Bones? I doubt it. These guys don't look like they should be around children anyway.'

Harry thought Amy had a point. The two men lurking by the passage to King's Cross looked like the sort of hoodlums you encountered in Diagon Alley. And not even the better kind of hoodlums like the smarmy spivs that sold merchandise that had fallen off a broom.

'There you are,' said Bellatrix when they approached. She had her wand out, and her eyes never left the men near the passage. 'We need to leave.'

'Do you know who they are, Mother?' asked Leo.

'Do I know them …?' said Bellatrix, her gaze flicking towards her son for barely a second. 'I don't willingly suffer the company of cockroaches – that's all you need to know. Come!' She imperiously held out her hand, clearly intent on disapparating immediately.

Another man in a heavy cloak muscled his way through the crowd, shouting at the men near the gate. 'Has he been through here?! Have you seen him?!'

'He isn't bloody here,' snarled one of the men. 'We're wasting time!'

Harry, his hand partially outstretched, froze. He recognised the voice of the newcomer – if not the face. It was hauntingly familiar. It was a voice he'd heard so very often as of late. A voice he hated. A voice he'd longed to hear. A voice he'd fantasised about, fantasised how it would sound screaming in pain, offering truth for mercy.

A red-hot haze of fury tinted his vision. 'DOLOHOV!' he yelled, drawing his wand and firing the most painful spell he knew, the one he'd specifically come up with for this very occasion. Dolohov shoved the man next to him into the flight path of the spell, and the hapless crony fell, his voice breaking with pain from having two hundred six bones in his body forcibly set.

'HARRY, NO!' shouted Leo, trying to grab his arm, but Harry ducked underneath his swipe, aiming another spell whilst dodging the purple curse bound his way. The crowd was screaming, panicking. Parents and children alike were punching and kicking each other to get out of the way of the fight. Harry ducked under another Blasting Curse, took a step forward, and toppled over the unfortunate victim of the stampede. He hit the ground hard but had the presence of mind to immediately roll around. A light blue curse he didn't recognise hit the girl lying beside him with a terminal thud.

Harry averted his eyes, cast a Shield Charm, and staggered to his feet. To his left and slightly behind him, Amy and Leo were fighting the one-armed Neanderthal. A few of the bystanders screamed with rage when they saw the curse hit the helpless girl and descended as a mob of fury on men near the passage, screeching madly.

'There you are, there you are!' shouted Dolohov triumphantly, standing alone in the circle the crowd had departed. 'I have been looking for you, Harry.'

Harry wasted no time talking and aimed another two spells at the disguised psychopath.

Dolohov cursed and jumped out of the way of the first spell, shielding himself from the second charm. His motions were fluid and decisive, owing everything to instinct. 'You use some funny spells, boy. Medical Charms? Come on, you can do better! Show me all of this was worth it!'

Harry felt a hand touch his shoulder and gave a terrible start. He hadn't sensed the approaching person whatsoever.

Neither had Dolohov. 'You!' the man shouted, his eyes wide with shock. 'Bella?!'

Harry moved his head ever so slightly. Sure enough, standing right behind him, clearly unharmed and completely unfazed stood Bellatrix.

'Antonin.'

'There!' roared Dolohov, pointing with a mad smile at Harry. 'There! Don't you see?! Harry Po–'

'I know,' Bellatrix interrupted him, flicking her wand.

Dolohov's mad grin turned into a look of mild surprise as Bellatrix's jet of turquoise light harmlessly passed Harry, rebounded from a broken lamppost, and hit the escaped criminal's lower body. The man took two lumbering steps forward, his mouth moving soundlessly, green froth dripping from his lips. He stretched his hands in Harry's direction. One step, two steps – and then he slammed face first into the ground.

Harry could hear each beat of his heart drumming inside of his skull. Incredulous, he stared at the prey he had been denied. The person he had wanted to catch with all his might. The scum he had had so many questions for.

He turned to see Bellatrix pocket her wand. Behind her, the one-armed man was lying screaming on the floor, black flames covering his entire body. The siblings were already bolting in their direction. 'Come,' said Bellatrix. 'Aurors will arrive soon. They'll take out the remaining rubbish.'

Harry turned towards Dolohov again. The man's hair was slowly changing, morphing from a murky brown to a darker shade, his eyebrows elongated until they formed a thick line, and one of his ears appeared to wilt until only a burned-off stump remained. He had no way to check, but he was beyond certain: Dolohov was dead. And all the answers he might have had had died with him.

'What have you done?!' whispered Harry, horror-stricken. 'What have you done?!'

'What I must,' said Bellatrix curtly, snatching one of Harry's hands out of the air. And before Harry knew what was happening, darkness engulfed him and Bellatrix and the siblings. He was dragged away, away from the corpse, from Dolohov, from the murderer of his parents, away from his past and any chance at vengeance.