Harry Potter and the Aevum of Eternity

by Thundercracker-TC

The survivors of the second wizarding war suffer the scars of Voldemort's reign as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. Harry is spread thin across multiple responsibilities as he and Ron join the Aurors, where new challenges and mysteries await. Not all is as it seems though, and powerful forces lurk in the darkness, biding their time... Cover art by a.heesher

20. Chapter 20

Harry Potter Belongs to JKR

Beta by FedererEx

Chapter 20

Harry squinted at the scrap of paper in his hand and attempted to decipher his own scribbles. He turned left at O'Malley's, walked past frost covered grass to #16, and cast a warming charm to ward off the winter morning chill. He stepped up to the door on the second story landing and rapped twice on the thick, paint scratched wood. Percy, still sporting the thin moustache Harry hadn't yet gotten used to, answered the door wearing a pressed collared white shirt and dark slacks under his black wizard's robe. The former Head Boy opened the door fully and waved Harry inside.

"Good morning Harry," Percy said, shaking Harry's hand as he crossed the threshold into the one-room apartment and shut the door behind him. A light brown wooden desk sat under the lone window at the back of the room, alongside an old brass lantern that even now emitted a soft magical glow, illuminating several stacks of parchment. A small kitchenette lay snuggly along one wall, little more than a stovetop and a small counter, in front of which sat a table large enough to comfortably fit three, or squeeze four. Opposite the kitchenette, a door led to what Harry presumed was an equally cramped bedroom.

"I know it's not much. I'm trying to save to eventually purchase a place of my own," Percy said, moving to the stovetop.

"It's brilliant," Harry replied, noting the almost obsessive attention to cleanliness; he suspected he could run a white glove over any surface and the glove would be cleaner afterwards.

Percy smiled.

"Tea?" he asked as he flicked his wand. A chair slid away from the table.

"Please," Harry said, taking a seat as Percy turned to put the kettle on and dropped tea bags into two chipped mugs.

"I'll start by stating that I'm no expert," Percy said, bringing the tea over and placing a steaming mug in front of Harry, "I ended up interim Head of International Cooperation because the old head was working for You-Know-Who, so it's been a bit of trial by fire to clean up that mess."

Harry nodded.

"Still, there were some missteps made early on that, if avoided, could have made managing relations with the goblins much easier," Percy continued, then paused.

"Aren't you going to take notes?" he asked.

"Err," Harry replied, realizing he had neither quill nor parchment.

"Never mind," Percy said, fetching both from the desk and handing them to Harry, "I probably don't need to remind you to treat them with respect, but what you may not know is that upon meeting someone like Ragnar for the first time, it's customary to bring a gift."

"Hmm," Harry said as he put his mug down and started writing, "I had no idea."

"Exactly," Percy replied, "neither did I, and none of the goblins I'd spoken to prior had informed me; I only found out afterwards, when the meeting didn't go so well and Fenlock, that's the Goblin Liaison, stormed into my office to ask why I hadn't presented a gift."

"Alright, what kind of gift should I bring?" Harry asked as his quill scratched across the page.

"It's probably too risky to try preparing goblin cuisine," Percy replied, "I'd suggest something rare and personal. Goblins are also partial to precious metals, so if you have something that fits all three, that would be perfect."

Harry thought about it for a moment, but off the top of his head nothing really came to mind. He blinked and realized Percy had continued speaking, and Harry hurriedly continued writing. They talked for nearly an hour, with Percy dumping everything he'd learned about goblins over the past six months onto Harry, and Harry shaking his hand out from time to time to keep it from getting cramped.

"You have to understand, they've been on the losing end of goblin-wizard relations for the better part of a century and a half," Percy said, "Ugluk the Bold is the main champion for more aggressive policy against us, but almost all goblins have at least some degree of bitterness about the past."

"I kind of get that," Harry said, "they've got us over a barrel now and they're trying to take full advantage, sort of like payback."

Percy nodded.

"You're caught in the middle of a much larger and older grievance than the break-in," Percy said, "still, I think you'll do fine. We've hit all the most important points."

Harry took the cue and drained what remained of his tea, then stood.

"Thanks Percy, I really appreciate it," Harry said, shaking the older Weasley's hand, "wish me luck."

"Remember, if Ugluk is there, don't rise to his bait," Percy said as he walked Harry to the door. Harry stepped out into the winter chill and recast his warming charms on the way back towards Diagon Alley proper.

"Something metal, something personal, something rare," Harry thought as he walked. He didn't have much in the way of possessions, at least not anything that wasn't currently in a Gringott's vault, which he couldn't access anyway. He mentally flipped through what he owned at Grimmauld, but nothing that fit the bill came to mind. Then something so obvious, so perfect, hit him so hard he stopped and stood up straight. He drew his wand and apparated home immediately, bounded up the steps, and pulled the drawstring at the top landing to reveal a trap door and a set of levitating wooden stairs leading up to the attic. Harry climbed up into the windowless space, the smell of old wood filling his nostrils, and by the light of a wordless 'lumos', he zeroed in on a wooden crate that'd been emptied of its original contents, mostly old mouldy clothing.

Of Voldemort's destroyed horcruxes, most remained at Hogwarts: the diary, the cup, and the Gaunt ring currently resided in a hidden room within the Headmistress' office. The diadem had crumbled to dust in the Chamber of Secrets, and Nagini and Voldemort's remains had been collected by the Department of Mysteries. Slytherin's locket, though, was part of the Black family heirlooms. Harry held up the heavy gold locket by one of the broken chains, the stylised 'S' crafted in the form of a snake still clearly visible on the exterior, despite the rend in the metal. Once only able to be opened by a parselmouth, whatever magic the locket possessed had been destroyed along with the piece of Tom Riddle's soul when Ron smashed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. Harry cracked the sides, swinging the two halves open. A shard of broken glass clung to the edges of one side of the locket, but the rest had fallen out over the course of their adventures. Aside from a reminder of the long months he, Hermione, and Ron hid in the Forest of Dean, Harry had no use for the locket… but as a piece of the vanquished Dark Lord and an object owned by Salazar Slytherin himself, he figured it would have great value to the goblins. He held it up by the chain and watched it twist, the polished metal glittering in the light of his wand. Unlike when he'd worn the horcrux around his neck, he felt nothing when looking at it, no anger, no hatred, no relief, no regret, just emptiness.

"I can't exactly tell them what it was, but letting them know destroying it was key to breaking Voldemort's power should be impressive enough," Harry thought, "who knows, maybe it'll be a good first step in improving relations."

He rummaged about the attic for a few more minutes, finally coming up with an empty wand case.

"It's a bit chipped, but nothing a good reparo and a bit of polish won't fix," Harry thought.

He placed the locket inside and closed the case with a snap.

---

The following day, Harry apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade with a soft pop. An overcast sky threatened snow, but the frozen ground crunched under his feet as he walked away from the village towards a small hill about a half kilometre in the opposite direction from the station. He must have seen it several dozen times in the distance without ever realizing it was a home, much less the home of a goblin who would otherwise be a king. As Harry approached, a faint trail, really little more than some crushed grass, leading from the station to the hill became visible.

"I doubt anyone but Ragnar walks over here, and then only when he's up from London," Harry thought as he turned onto the trail.

Harry walked over a small rise, behind which hid a small door embedded into the side of the grassy hill. As he approached, he noticed it looked like wood from far away, but was actually made or covered with strands of interlocking brown and green metal, blending it into the long grass around it. Gripping the now polished wand case in one hand, he knocked on the door and winced at the sharp pain across his knuckles from the metal strands. He thought about knocking again when the door swung open to reveal a goblin wearing a dark three-piece suit. Harry recognized Ragnar from his picture in the Goblin Liaison Office, though he looked slightly older now. Thin white hair didn't quite cover his scalp, and Harry noted a small chunk of his left ear was missing; whether from birth or from some accident or fight, Harry couldn't tell.

"I open my home to you, Harry Potter," Ragnar said, his voice deep and rumbling. He stepped back to allow Harry to duck through the entrance.

"I thank you for the invitation, Ragnar the Fourth," Harry replied, as was customary.

He stepped into a cosy home carved into the hill itself, reinforced with wood beams and panelling to hide the rock and keep the chill away. As the door closed, Harry blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust to the dim light. He followed Ragnar through what appeared to be a low-ceilinged and defunct kitchen, then up a set of stairs and into a sitting room. The door closed behind them, the panelling blending into the pattern on the walls.

"A servant's entrance," Harry thought.

Busts of goblins, some made of a dark metal and others gold or bronze, sat on white marble plinths around the edges of the windowless room, looking somewhat out of place on the wooden floors. Rich purple carpeting covered the centre of the room, where a human sized chair and a raised goblin seat waited for them around a heavy oak table. Harry thought the table might have been enlarged as it was far too tall for Ragnar to sit at without a special raised chair. Two cups and a pitcher of what Harry hoped was water rested on the table. Two other richly stained doors led from the room, both of them shut, and smokeless magical lanterns hung from each wall, providing just enough light to see by.

"Before we get started, I brought a gift, a token of my appreciation," Harry said. He started to place the wand case on the table, then decided to open the case and let Ragnar take the locket from him directly. Harry flipped open the wooden lid and held it with two hands, bending over slightly to hold it lower, below Ragnar's eye level. The goblin monarch picked it up by one of the pieces of the chain.

"It is a gold locket, old, and broken," Ragnar said evenly. Harry suspected he was trying to figure out why Harry would give him a piece of obviously shattered jewellery.

"It belonged to one of the Hogwarts Founders, Salazar Slytherin, but more than that, it is a relic of our vanquished enemy, the Dark wizard Voldemort," Harry said, "destroying it was key to breaking Voldemort's power."

Ragnar eyed Harry carefully, then gently replaced the locket in the case, closed the lid, and picked it up with both hands.

"With this gift, a part of our heritage will be with you for all your days," Harry said, like Percy had instructed.

"I accept your gift, Harry Potter, please sit," Ragnar said.

With the ceremonial part of the meeting over, Harry breathed a bit easier as he slid into the hard wooden chair, and Ragnar stepped up to sit in his. Harry noticed he looked upwards slightly, as Ragnar sat an inch or two higher than him.

"Probably intentional," he thought.

"I never knew this place was here," Harry said, glancing around the room.

Ragnar narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"It is my ancestral home," the goblin replied, "the upper floors were razed centuries ago but the lower level and servant quarters remain."

Harry cleared his throat in the silence that followed.

"So, Mr. Potter, you requested this meeting as a condition of your restitution," Ragnar said, "why did you wish to meet with me?"

Harry took a deep breath. He'd pondered about what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it, for days, but now it seemed all his thoughts fled at once.

"Bugger, just go for it," Harry thought.

"I wanted two things, first was to find out what the goblin nation want from us, and second-" Harry started.

"The grievances of the goblin nation are well documented," Ragnar said, leaning forward slightly.

"Err, I wanted to talk about them a bit, just you and I, one on one," Harry said, "I mean, I don't speak for the Ministry, but erm, during the war, we were held captive. With a goblin."

"Griphook," Ragnar said, folding his hands in front of him.

Harry nodded.

"And we learned a lot from him, so I thought it would be good to talk some more," Harry said.

"You wish to hear the truth directly from the source, now that you realize your wizarding education was full of omissions and propaganda," Ragnar said.

"Uhm," Harry said, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion as to whether to defend his Hogwarts education or ask about specific examples of the omissions Ragnar mentioned.

"I will indulge you, Mr. Potter," Ragnar continued, "what is your second request?"

"Right," Harry said, "before we get to that, let's talk about the first one. I know about the possessions, how whoever creates something owns it forever, and the wand magic."

"Yes, wizards have long denied my people the right to use wands," Ragnar said.

"What is it that you want, I mean, you, as a goblin people?" Harry asked.

Ragnar leaned back in his seat and made a low rumbling noise in the back of his throat, eyeing Harry as if trying to categorize him somehow.

"There are three main injustices forced upon goblins by your people," Ragnar finally said, "the first you know, goblins are barred from using or researching wand magic. Secondly, goblins are forbidden from purchasing property from wizards, or from running almost any business aside from banking."

Harry's mouth dropped open at that.

"I had no idea," he said, "so even if you have all the gold.."

"There is very little to spend it on. Your kind are afraid of goblin cunning, you see, and fear we would force wizards out of business and off their own land," Ragnar said, "ironic, as banking was one of the few professions open to us, and we are now on the verge of foreclosing on several dozen wizarding dwellings."

Ragnar smiled a toothy grin.

"What was the third thing?" Harry asked.

"We demand seats at your governing body," Ragnar replied.

"Governing body…" Harry thought.

"The Wizengamot?" he asked.

Ragnar nodded.

"We live and die under the laws set by wizards, but we do not have any say in their forging or tempering," Ragnar said, "our concerns are heard only in the Liaison Office in your Ministry, and very seldom, if ever, beyond. You have a seat in government, do you not, Mr. Potter? Have you ever heard a goblin petition brought to the floor?"

"Uhm," Harry said. He hadn't actually sat at any of the Wizengamot meetings yet, but apparently Ragnar took his hesitation as an admission.

"I thought not," Ragnar said, "don't you think it's only fair for a people to have a say in the laws they will be governed by?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. He had doubts about whether Ragnar was telling him the full truth, but figured it would be simple enough to research whether or why goblins weren't allowed in the Wizengamot. Political implications aside, the question itself was simple, and had only one correct answer.

"Of course," Harry said, "not that I'm really in a position to do anything about it."

"Not yet perhaps, Mr. Potter," Ragnar said coolly, "but it is heartening that you are at least willing to listen to our grievances, which is more than I can say for most of your kind. What was the second request you had?"

Harry took a breath; this was going to have to be put delicately.

"I know there's some goblins who want to, err, be more aggressive, with wizards," Harry said.

Ragnar nodded, but didn't make any indication of his thoughts.

"My request is if it looks like something might happen, something that could turn into a crisis, call me before doing anything rash," Harry said.

Ragnar snorted.

"And how would you help, Harry Potter?" Ragnar asked, "Apart from the fact you are yourself a wizard, and therefore not objective, you are not empowered by your government with any jurisdiction over relations between our people."

Harry thought about how best to get Ragnar to cooperate, and paused to consider his words carefully.

"I have a few connections, and I can be fairly persuasive," Harry said, "if we can save even one wizard or goblin's life, shouldn't we try?"

Ragnar hmmed, and drummed his fingers on the table.

"You are truly an odd wizard, Mr. Potter. Very well, I will… consider your offer," Ragnar said.

Harry nodded, expecting that was the best he would be able to get. A moment of silence stretched into two. Harry considered asking why they came through a servant's entrance, but then reflected on the distinct possibility that a portion of Ragnar's home had been destroyed by wizards, and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"If there is nothing else, I thank you for this gift, it will find a place of honour in my home," Ragnar said, lifting the case again.

Harry also wanted to ask why the goblins demanded so much gold if they couldn't spend it on anything, but then he remembered part of it was payment to the families that'd been killed by Voldemort after the break-in, and thought better of broaching the topic. He stood up instead.

"My hope is this will be a good first step to healing the rift between our people," Harry said, once again at Percy's request.

"Time will tell, Mr. Potter," Ragnar said as he stood up on the top step to his seat and shook Harry's hand. He collected the wand case as he accompanied Harry back downstairs to the servant's door.

"See you this evening, Mr. Potter," Ragnar said.

"Thank you, Ragnar," Harry said. He turned away as the door closed behind him.

---

Three soft pops echoed nearby Slug and Jigger's Apothecary in Diagon Alley as Harry apparated in, followed closely by Ron and Hermione. The sun slanted almost horizontally in the crisp winter air, only hitting the tops of the buildings despite it only being slightly after tea time. The Trio wore long winter coats above their robes.

"You ready for this mate?" Ron asked.

"More like ready to finally get it over with and put it behind us," Harry replied. He cast a silent warming charm on himself then aimed one at each of his friends. The threat of action from the goblins had been hanging over the three of them ever since Voldemort's defeat.

"I'm surprised they settled for a simple apology," Hermione said, adjusting her Gryffindor scarf to keep the whistling wind from her neck as they walked towards Gringotts.

"There's some politics behind it," Harry said, in an attempt to head off talk of penalties and the apparent lack thereof, "it's an admission of guilt not just from us, but from the wizarding community as a whole. I've been looking into this actually. Did you know goblins aren't allowed to purchase property from wizards?"

"There's a goblin living near The Burrow, been there as long as we have I think," Ron said.

"Inherited maybe," Harry replied, "but if what I'm hearing is true, they really are like second class citizens."

"Harry, I'm proud of you," Hermione said, a note of pleasant surprise in her voice, "what do you think should be done?"

"Haven't really thought that far ahead. I need to look into it more, but I do think we need to do something," Harry said.

"And I need to figure out how the political game works," he thought.

"Hold that thought," Ron said as they rounded the corner. All three of them stopped and stared at a makeshift stage that had been set up in front of the bank, and the mass of reporters and onlookers gathered in front of it in spite of the frigid weather.

"Bloody hell, I didn't know they were going to bring an army," Ron said quietly.

The stage sat on the street off to one side of the steps leading to Gringotts, a raised platform stood at one end where Harry supposed the goblins would sit or look down on them.

"They did say it was going to be a public apology," Harry said, "come on, the sooner we get over there, the sooner we can get out of here."

They only made it a few steps before a cry of 'there they are!' went up, and camera flashes started going off. Harry noticed Hermione's hand found Ron's as they crossed the street towards the throng. They didn't even make it to the other side before they were surrounded by reporters yelling questions into their faces as more flashes went off.

"No comment," Harry said, reaching back to slide his hand into Hermione's and raised his other to clear a path as he led them in single file through the crowd, "we'll speak afterwards, no comment!"

He caught a glimpse of Rita Skeeter's fuchsia coat, stark amidst the browns and greys of the other reporters. Then he found the bottom step of the stage and led the way up, glancing back at Hermione to see her face, slightly whiter than usual but determination in her eyes still very much present.

"Good, having an episode in front of both the goblins and this many reporters would definitely not be ideal," he thought.

He turned towards the platform and seated on spindly wooden chairs sat five goblins; their implacable gazes met his own and an involuntary shiver went down his spine. In the centre he recognized Ragnar, and to his left he recognised the general manager of Gringotts, though Harry couldn't place his name, and he suspected another branch manager beyond him, he was an overweight goblin wearing a purple waistcoat. To Ragnar's right sat a thin, unpleasant looking goblin with a raised purple scar marring his left eyebrow, baring his teeth at them with open disdain.

"That'll be Ugluk the Bold," Harry thought. Farthest to Ragnok's right sat another goblin Harry recognized: Fenlok, the relatively young representative to the Goblin Liaison Office, whose name he'd only learned from Percy the day before. Harry glanced to the right to see the staff of Gringotts all turned out in their suits, standing in neat rows on the steps of the bank, with the two goblin guards still in their designated spots flanking the entrance. Mercifully, the press had not ascended the steps behind them, but massed at the foot of the stage. The flashes continued, though at a much slower pace than before. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took a moment to compose themselves before they turned to face Ragnar and the other goblin leaders, with Harry in the middle because 'you're the bloody Chosen One' as Ron had so eloquently put it earlier that day.

Harry cleared his throat. The apology had been hammered out by Percy and Fenlok, and Harry now pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and unfolded it carefully in the light breeze. He took a breath to start reading.

"I love you Harry!" a witch cried from the crowd, followed by shushing, muffled laughter, and a smattering of spontaneous applause. Harry turned with a nervous scowl to the gathered wizards and witches and put a hand up, and a finger to his mouth, motioning for quiet.

"Idiots, we're apologising for a dozen goblins getting killed," Harry thought. The tittering rapidly quieted down and Harry returned his attention to the gathered goblins, where there was a noticeable lack of amusement at the outburst.

"Start talking, quick, before there's another interruption," Harry thought.

"I, Harry James Potter, Head of House Black and House Potter, wish to express my true regret for the actions I undertook on the first of May, of this year. I, along with my two friends Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger, knowingly impersonated another to unlawfully gain access to a secure vault in the lower levels of Gringotts for the purpose of theft. We bewitched bank staff, destroyed defensive enchantments, and released a trained dragon in the process. Our actions resulted in the deaths of several goblins-"

"And You-Know-Who!" someone called from the crowd, which then roared in response. Ron and Hermione shifted uneasily next to him as Harry pursed his lips and stared at Ragnar, refusing to acknowledge the crowd as the camera flashes continued. After what felt like ten minutes but was probably only a few seconds, the crowd quieted down and Harry continued reading.

"and severely impacted the reputation of Gringotts. We three, known as the Golden Trio, accept full responsibility for the result of our actions, and offer to help repair the damage done both to Gringotts and to the relations between our two societies," Harry said, "we request forgiveness from the goblin people and from the families of those slain by wizarding wand."

Hermione continued with essentially an identical apology, and then Ron followed suit.

"No additional restitution is required," Ragnok said, when Ron had finished, "your acknowledgement of wrongdoing, admission of guilt, and the public service you have rendered is sufficient."

Ugluk visibly balked at this pronouncement, but he kept his mouth shut.

"He means the gold I've rendered… Perhaps Ugluk doesn't know it?" Harry thought.

The Gringotts general manager signed a piece of parchment and passed it to his chubby but richly dressed colleague who stood up and read aloud.

"The goblin granted right to access vaults and full use of the services offered by Gringotts Bank is hereby reinstated to Harry James Potter, Hermione Jean Granger, and Ronald Bilius Weasley, effective as of midnight tonight," he read in a gravelly voice. He produced a stamp from inside his overcoat and with three quick thunks, placed Gringotts seal on the decree.

Ragnar stood up, followed by the others as Fenlock, the Goblin ambassador, stepped down off the platform to pass the parchments over to them. As Ragnar and the others started to file away towards Gringotts, Ugluk stayed behind, standing and glaring down at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Hear me now, Harry Potter, Ragnar may have forgiven you, but Ugluk the Bold will never forget the stain of goblin blood on your wands," Ugluk said, then he too exited from the stage and followed the others back into the bank.

Harry watched him go, then turned to the reporters and onlookers waiting at the opposite edge of the stage. As sunset faded into twilight, he found he had difficulty recognizing their faces, but one shrill voice stood out from the rest, coming from the front and centre where Rita Skeeter had managed to shove her way to the best spot. Harry nodded to her as Graham Winfield, her photographer, snapped another photo of the three of them standing together.

"Mr. Potter," she said, quick-quotes quill already scribbling as it hovered next to her shoulder, "our readers would like to know, why subject yourselves to this public apology? Surely the goblins are the ones in your debt for defeating You-Know-Who."

Harry recognized the loaded question for what it was; he couldn't downplay the importance or significance of the apology without offending the goblins, and he couldn't simply agree with Skeeter as the goblins held an entirely different view. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"We did break the law, and several goblins were murdered by an English wizard. The goblins requested this apology," Harry replied, "would I have done things differently if I could do it all over again? Of course I have regrets; like so many others, I've lost people close to me. Too many."

Harry frowned as a half-dozen faces flashed across his mind's eye before he started to speak again.

"Looking back though, I think we did the best we could with what we knew at the time. I can't speak for Ron and Hermione, but tonight, it seemed only right for me to do my part in trying to improve relations between wizards and goblins," he said.

He nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"Are you in favour of additional goblin rights?" another reporter asked.

"Absolutely," Hermione jumped in, her voice crisp and clear, "all Beings should be treated equally under the law."

The crowd roared and reporters shouted several questions simultaneously as the flashing tripled. Ron leapt to the front; his tall frame proved an effective deterrent to the crowd surging forward.

"No more questions," he said, holding up an outstretched hand, but it did practically nothing to slow the onslaught.

Harry and Hermione backed up a few steps to the far side of the stage.

"I'm done, Grimmauld?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded.

"Right, we're out of here," Harry shouted over the din to Ron. The three of them disapparated to the sudden quiet of Harry's living room.

Hermione huffed as she ran both hands through her frizzy mane.

"Ugh, they never stop," she said as she unwound her scarf.

Kreacher appeared with a soft pop.

"Master has returned," he said with a slight bow and a wary glance at Hermione.

"Hello Kreacher," Harry said, "three hot chocolates, I think."

Kreacher bowed low and vanished.

"Feel free to stay for dinner, help yourselves," Harry said.

"I can't, I'm meeting Ginny, Julia, and your squadmate for dinner and clothes shopping before tonight," Hermione said.

Harry nodded. Although all the other new Aurors had prior engagements on New Year's Eve, Liz had still agreed to go shopping for clubbing outfits with the girls.

"You're sure you're okay to go?" Harry asked, even as Ron shot him a look from behind Hermione, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

"Actually after today it's sounding more and more like a good idea," Hermione replied, before she glanced over her shoulder at Ron, "not that I'm going to be making a habit of it."

Ron held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Kreacher appeared with three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, but only Harry's had small bits of marshmallow bobbing at the motion.

"Will Master Harry be needing anything else?" Kreacher asked.

"I'm not staying for dinner," Harry replied, "Ron?"

"I wouldn't mind eating alone, as long as you're okay with Kreacher preparing something for just me," Ron said, but one glance at Hermione's glare-daggers and he immediately changed his tune, "err, actually I think I'll see how Mum and George are doing."

"That's settled then, I'll see the both of you at the Leaky Cauldron at ten o'clock," Hermione said as she set the empty mug down on a table, drew her wand, and apparated out.

"So glad I don't have to go shopping again," Ron said as he downed the rest of his drink.

Harry nodded his agreement. Ron put his cup down and paused by the floo.

"Let me know how it goes; honestly hope he's not taking it too hard," he said, and Harry nodded again before Ron vanished in a burst of green flame.

Harry sighed and mentally prepared both for the upcoming dinner, and to apparate again, back to Diagon to meet up with Shawn Davis.

---

Harry opened the door to the dimly lit interior of Francesco's, a restaurant situated near the west end of Diagon Alley, far from Gringotts. White cloth covered tables lit by glowing magical candlelight kept the atmosphere subdued, and the few glowing candelabras mounted on the wall barely illuminated the red brick walls. Patrons sat at about half the tables, but it still took a moment for Harry to spot Shawn; the pureblood had charmed his hair to black, or perhaps this was his natural colour, Harry wasn't really sure.

"Evening Potter," Shawn said, motioning to the empty seat across from him, "hope you don't mind, I started on the breadsticks."

Harry slid into the chair, thankful the restaurant was upscale enough that he only received a few passing glances from the other patrons.

"Hi Davis," Harry said, keeping his voice neutral as he picked up the menu, "how've you been?"

"Alright I suppose, for a bloke who spent three years training for a job and passed the final examination, only to be told there wasn't a spot for him," Shawn replied. Harry got the impression it was meant to be a jocular remark but it rang with a little bit too much truth to be shrugged off as such.

"I know, it's not exactly fair," Harry said.

"Not just unfair, it's equal parts idiotic and dangerous," Shawn said, "Liz told me, they're going to field a team of five instead of six."

The pureblood shook his head in disbelief and Harry nodded.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Steak, rare," Davis replied, "you?"

"Ravioli," Harry said with a nod.

Shawn nodded and raised a hand, summoning a red-sashed waitress to their table. They requested their entrees and Shawn also ordered a bottle of red wine.

"How about you, keeping busy?" Shawn asked.

"Had to apologise to the goblins today," Harry replied, "we were mobbed by reporters and.. well-wishers, I guess you'd call them?"

"Got your vault back then?" Shawn asked.

Harry nodded.

"Ah, must be a relief," Shawn said, "still, at least things are looking up for one of us."

The conversation paused as the wine arrived, and Shawn swirled and sampled a sip before nodding for a pair of glasses to be poured.

"So what've you been doing?" Harry asked as Shawn swirled his glass again and took a large sip.

Shawn smirked.

"Aside from trying to convince Dawlish to get off his arse and hire some more muggleborns so I can get in, there's about piss all I can keep busy with," he replied, "he keeps feeding me some bollocks about not enough suitable candidates."

Shawn downed the glass and poured another, then quirked an eyebrow at Harry.

"Then again, after we got our arses kicked on Halloween, maybe I should look for a safer profession," he said, "fruit baskets or something. Anyways, I'll figure something out, certainly not going to wait around another three years. Gotta make a living after all, eh?"

"Not good, Shawn's much more bitter than I'd expected," Harry thought.

"Not having you is a loss, Shawn," Harry said.

Shawn eyed him for a moment, perhaps evaluating whether Harry was being genuine.

"I'm serious," Harry added, "we probably wouldn't have passed Trials without you."

Shawn gave a sort of half-snort, half-chuckle, and took another large gulp of wine, then topped off his glass again.

"You're not half bad yourself, Potter. I'm not too surprised Dawlish picked Weasley, either," Shawn said.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well, he's got you, right," Shawn said, "and aside from sharing credit for taking down You-Know-Who, you and Weasley are like two wands with one brain. You each make each other better, so adding Weasley instead is like getting one and a half Aurors for the price of one. Or something."

He glanced at his glass, already half-empty again.

"Bloody hell, better slow down," he muttered.

"Still, doesn't make it any less shit," Shawn continued, setting the wine down on the table, "I mean, honestly, isn't refusing to hire someone based on blood status exactly the type of thing that law was supposed to prevent?"

Harry glanced around at the other tables as Shawn's voice rose slightly, and the pureblood took the hint.

"Should probably get on that Potter," Shawn said quietly, a bit of his old snark coming back, "only one of us can go to those stodgy old meetings to tell those wankers how they stuffed it up."

"Yes, I know, but how am I supposed to do everything at once?" Harry thought, running a hand through his hair.

"You're right, it's just, honestly I don't have the first clue about how those things work," Harry said, "plus there's just not enough time in the day."

Shawn smirked.

"I'll trade you, I've got nothing but time," Shawn said, "meanwhile, let me know if you need help with anything, I'll do work as a… what do you call them? Freelance consultant. Then Dawlish can keep his precious quotas."

Harry smirked at that.

"I'm serious. Let me know if you need help, yeah?" Shawn said.

Harry nodded.

"Sure, I'll let you know if I come across anything," Harry replied.

"Anyway, that's why I haven't really started looking for a job, I'll probably just start ranting and complaining to my would-be future employer," Shawn said, "then they'd think I'm a bit unhinged and hire the other guy. Still, I'm sure something will come up."

"Well you are a bit unhinged Davis, but in the best way," Harry quipped.

Shawn snorted.

"Wanker," he muttered into his glass, but Harry saw him smirking into his drink.

"Shawn hasn't started looking for a job because he's not exactly what one would call diligent," Harry thought, "still, someone like him won't be without a job for long, once he eventually puts his mind into looking."

Their food chose that moment to arrive, and they both tucked in, staying silent as they focused on eating.

"So when's your first day then?" Shawn asked as he finished off the steak.

"Monday," Harry replied.

Shawn took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Tell the girls I said hi," he said.

Harry nodded.

"I will. Dessert?" Harry asked.

Shawn shook his head.

"No thanks, not really in the mood," he replied.

The bill arrived, and Harry counted out the galleons and sickles.

"Thanks Harry," Shawn said, "I'll pay you back later."

"It's alright Shawn, just buy me a drink sometime," Harry said, placing the coins on the table, "and take care of yourself."

Shawn nodded, but didn't smile.

They stood up and said their farewells, and Harry apparated from the street to Grimmauld. He heard the floo while he was changing clothes and found Ron waiting on the couch, already wearing the same clubbing outfit as the last time they visited Cathedral.

"How'd it go?" Ron asked.

"About as well as can be expected," Harry replied, "he's upset, obviously, but not at you."

Ron sighed, and though he tried to hide his relief, Harry knew him well enough to spot it.

"You ready?" Harry asked.

"Am I ever, this is going to be a night to remember," Ron said with a grin.

The two of them apparated to Diagon Alley just outside the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny arrived shortly afterwards with a soft pop. Harry felt his jaw drop as he got a look at his girlfriend in the clubbing attire Liz helped her select earlier that day. Streetlights refracted off a sleeveless silvery top that dropped just short of a black miniskirt, which contrasted sharply with her pale, lightly freckled legs. Dark heeled boots came up to her knees, completing the outfit. She'd applied a touch of makeup and spun a few ringlets out to frame her face, and Harry literally felt his heart rate jump.

"I've never really seen her in muggle clothing," Harry thought, followed immediately by, "we should do this more often."

Ginny walked up to him and gave him a peck on the cheek, letting her hand run down the lapel of his blazer as she stepped back.

"It looks good on you Harry," she said, her voice slightly more breathy than usual.

"You look fantastic," Harry replied, silently thanking whatever powers might be watching him his voice didn't crack.

"Alright you two, how's about we save it for later," Ron said.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother while Harry shot him a small smirk and nod.

Two more pops heralded the arrival of Hermione and Julia.

Hermione had tamed and straightened her hair, much as she'd done for the Yule ball during 4th year. She wore what Harry took to be a dark green blouse, but as she turned to give Ron a hug, Harry saw there was almost nothing on her back, just a few thin strings to keep the cloth in the front in place. Her shoulders were bare, but on one arm she wore a separate matching green sleeve that looped around her thumb.

"To hide the scars," Harry realized.

A flowy, printed skirt fell to her knees, and unlike Ginny, she wore stockings. Dark brown ankle boots adorned her feet, adding only an inch or so to her height. It was so far away from her typical style that Harry felt that she had to be trying to make a point of some kind.

Julia, by contrast, had braided and clipped her hair back and wore a simple little black dress and knee-high leather boots with a good three inches on the heel. Dark red lipstick gave her a more intimidating look than the other two girls.

"You all look great," Harry said as Ron nodded his agreement.

"I feel like a tart," Julia said, smoothing out her dress and pulling the hem down slightly, "this had better be worth it, Ginevra."

Ginny puffed a strand of hair away from her face; Harry knew she hated her given name, and he suspected Julia knew it as well.

"It'll be a blast, let's head off," Harry said, pre-empting Ginny's reply and any chance of her cutting tongue setting the wrong tone for the evening. As they stepped out of the bar and into muggle London, Ron took a deep breath of the freezing New Years' air.

"Smell that? No press, no gawkers," he said, "smells like freedom."

Hermione pursed her lips and suppressed a grin as Harry glanced up and down the streets; groups of celebratory muggles wandered about, most of them heading to parties he assumed, or pubs.

"Boxing Day aside, when's the last time all three of us were out together without running from either the press or Death Eaters?" Harry asked, "outside of Hogwarts I mean."

"Quidditch World Cup?" Ron replied after a moment.

"We were running from Death Eaters that night, in case you'd forgotten," Hermione said.

"I meant before that," Ron mumbled.

They fell silent as a group of jovial muggles passed the other way.

"Hogsmeade, what was it, five weeks ago?" Harry asked.

"Hogsmeade doesn't count mate, that's practically Hogwarts," Ron said.

"After the battle then," Harry said.

"We were dodging the press the whole next day," Hermione said, "and the day after our interview with the Unspeakables I was on a plane to Sydney."

Harry fell quiet for a moment as they passed a raucous party spilling onto the street.

"That's pretty sad," Julia said, "aren't you supposed to be best friends?"

"We are best friends," Harry replied at the same time as both Ron and Hermione. That caused Harry to grin.

"Really it's because Hermione's at Hogwarts," Ginny said, "I'm sure if she was working it would be different."

Harry wasn't quite so sure. He and Ron had been extremely busy with training, and if what he heard about the short-staffed nature of the Aurors was true, they'd continue right on being extremely busy. Of course, Hermione was not exactly the type to have a free schedule either; he recalled the time turner from their third year. He glanced to his left to see Ron and Hermione walking arm in arm.

"We'll at least be together for holidays," Harry thought, "if they stay together, that is."

His mind flashed back to the last time they'd come and Ron's dangerous moment with Tammy, and he almost accidentally walked right by the club on the opposite side of the street. It being New Year's Eve, the queue was even longer than last time.

"Idiots, they've got to be freezing," Julia muttered as she surveyed the scantily clad girls, shivering as they braved the cold.

Harry ignored the queue and led them straight up to the small group of muscular young men at the entrance, all wearing dark t-shirts.

"Hi, we'd like to go in please," Harry said.

"Confundus," whispered Ron.

"Ronald!" Hermione said, staring at him in disbelief.

"What?" Ron replied as the bouncer removed the velvet rope barring the entrance.

Harry slipped in with Ginny on his arm, followed closely by Julia. Ron entered next with an irate Hermione glaring at him. As soon as they passed the threshold and received their wristbands, she started scolding him in whispers. Harry couldn't pick up exactly what she was saying, but he felt Ginny's grip on his arm tighten and he had no doubt she found the entire situation extremely amusing.

The scene inside the club itself was almost the same as before, with the DJ, thumping bass, gyrating bodies, smoke and laser lights, and backlit bars on either side of the dance floor.

"What do you think?" Ron asked loudly to be heard over the music.

Harry glanced over at Hermione, who stared down at the dancefloor with her arms crossed.

"I think I'm in disbelief you confunded the bouncer," Hermione said.

Several emotions crossed over Ron's face before he settled on contrite.

"Erm, sorry," Ron said, scratching the back of his head, "I didn't really fancy waiting in line outside, but if it really means that much to you, we can go back out together and queue up."

"Actually Hermione, I asked Ron to," Harry said, "Shawn, one of the other Aurors, did it the last time, and I figured it was harmless and saves us an hour of waiting in the cold."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but instead she just sighed.

"At least her arms aren't crossed anymore," Harry thought.

"Well, we're here already, might as well enjoy it," she said.

Ron mouthed a 'thank you' to Harry over Hermione's head, and Harry made an almost imperceptible nod in response.

"Sure are a lot of them," Ginny said, eyeing the dance floor and Julia.

Julia didn't respond for a moment as she took in the scene before them. Then she turned to Ginny.

"Nervous, Weasley?" Julia asked.

"Not at all, I don't have a problem with muggles," Ginny replied.

"Neither do I," Julia said, turning to glance at the dance floor again, "I still can't believe they dress like that though."

"Right, let's get started," Harry said, "first round's on me."

He and Ron made for the bar. Fortunately, the queue wasn't too long and they ordered relatively quickly.

"Seriously, thanks mate," Ron said as they waited for their drinks to be made.

Harry grinned.

"Seriously, don't mention it, she might hear you," he replied as they collected a platter of fruity martinis. He heard Ron mutter behind him as they approached the table the girls had gathered around and felt a smile crease his face. He placed the platter on a high table and distributed the glasses.

"What are you grinning at?" Ginny asked him suspiciously before she glanced up at Ron's still sour countenance with a smirk of her own.

"Nothing, cheers," Harry said raising his glass high, "to a night out with no press, and no worries."

"Hear hear," came the reply, and everyone tipped back their drinks for a large sip.

Harry carefully lifted the nearly overflowing glass to his lips and took a large swallow of the apple flavoured drink, the strong taste of alcohol warming his belly and loosening him up almost immediately.

"Oh wow, this is good," Ginny said, "what's yours?"

Harry traded glasses with Ginny and tried some of hers (raspberry) while she did the same. Ron and Hermione exchanged as well.

"Hermione, after we're done with the project, we should experiment with martini flavours in the lab," Julia said as she picked up and plucked an olive off a toothpick with her teeth, "we can sell them to the students, or even open a pub, we'll make a fortune!"

"I'm not going to use the school potions laboratory to brew up martinis," Hermione replied.

"Oh it's only a joke. What are you drinking?" Julia asked as she sniffed Hermione's glass, "lychee?"

Hermione nodded.

"Yours?" she asked.

"Mocha," Julia replied, to which Hermione's eyes shot down to the thick brown liquid, "want to try?"

Hermione nodded and the two traded, but as Hermione sipped Julia's drink the pureblood lifted the bottom of the martini glass with her finger, amused defiance in her eyes.

"Come on now, bottoms up, there's a good girl. I know you love both chocolate and coffee," Julia said as she raised the bottom of Hermione's glass higher and forced her to drink faster.

The muggleborn sputtered and coughed as she swallowed the last of it down to a few chuckles around the table.

"Julia!" she said once she could breathe properly again.

"Hermione!" Julia echoed, "come off it, it's one night, and you need to relax, you'll feel better tomorrow. Maybe not tomorrow, but you'll feel better the day after tomorrow, promise."

"Come on, let's dance," Ginny said, downing the rest of her drink and pulling Harry onto the floor.

Harry caught a glimpse of Ron leading Hermione onto the floor and Julia eyeing them. For a split-second he felt bad about Julia being a 5th wheel, but then all of his attention was focused on Ginny pulling him close and putting her arms about his neck.

His girlfriend was a quick study, copying a few of the dance moves from the muggles around them, her shimmering top catching the light as she fell into the beat.

"Bloody hell, how did she pick it up so quickly?" Harry thought as he tried to keep up and mostly failed.

"What's going on between you and White?" Harry asked, shouting to be heard over the blasting music.

"Oh, she was spouting some pureblood nonsense earlier," Ginny replied into his ear, Harry acutely aware of her closeness, "she says she stopped believing it but I wanted to make sure."

"She seems okay with muggles," Harry said, nodding towards where Julia danced with a dark-skinned muggle wearing a top hat and silvery glasses in the shape of 1999. He noticed her staring off somewhere else though, and followed her gaze to where he spotted Ron and Hermione clinging to one another.

"Really should have insisted Shawn or Matt come with us," he thought.

"Yeah, I had my doubts at first, but I think they're good for each other, Julia's helping Hermione with her project, Merlin knows I don't have a clue, and Hermione could really use a friend now that you and Ron aren't there, and Neville's always with Sprout," Ginny said.

She snapped her fingers.

"Oh, what was I thinking, I should have asked him to come tonight too," Ginny said, "I'm pretty sure he fancies her. Damn, missed opportunity."

"Well, I'm not planning to miss this opportunity," Harry said, putting his hand around Ginny and finding the bare skin of her lower back. She didn't even pretend to try to play hard to get as she ran a finger up his thigh.

He spun his girlfriend around just as some of the laser lights pointed at the crowd.

Then a bright flash of light blinded him and he felt a shockwave hit him, burning heat and pain in his ears from a concussive blast, and he was airborne, crashing into another group of dancing muggles and landing in a tangle of limbs. Harry still held Ginny's hand in his, and numbly, on reflex alone, he drew his wand from inside his blazer as his vision spun. He rose to one knee, glanced down, and an icy vice gripped his heart; Ginny lay very still with a small cut on her forehead, oozing bright red.

"Ginny!" he shouted, hitting her with a wordless 'rennervate'.

Harry's blood started pumping again as she gasped and opened her beautiful eyes, staring about wildly. One look at Harry's wand and she pulled her own from her clutch, fumbling a bit with the clasp after the knock on the head she took.

"Undetectable extension," said the part of Harry's brain that wasn't devoted to searching out threats. They were in a bad way, surrounded by innocent muggles and exposed on the dance floor. The music stopped and screams started as the crowd realized there was some kind of attack, and a stampede crushed the entrance at the rear of the room as the sickly-sweet scent of charred flesh hit his nostrils.

"Come on Ginny!" Harry said, pulling her to her feet as he stumbled towards the bar.

Panicked muggles shoved them and Harry shouldered his way through, clearing a path for the two of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a Death Eater mask and instinctively threw up a shield in that direction, pulling Ginny behind him. His wand arm actually recoiled from the strength of the curse, but his shield held. He felt fuzzy, his reflexes slowed by the alcohol and the initial blast.

"We've got to fight our way out, fast!" he thought.

Training took over and he pressed the attack with a stream of curses and jinxes as his opponent hunched slightly, working his wand to defend against Harry's onslaught. Ginny tried to jump in with a few curses of her own but her aim was off and they sailed wide and over the enemy's head.

"I can't bloody see right!" she said.

"Just shield!" Harry said as he followed his own advice, deflecting a pair of jinxes and reversing one back at the Death Eater who was forced to dodge.

"Harry behind us!" Ginny shouted, and Harry felt the heat of an incendiary curse as Ginny deflected it away from them. Harry glanced over his shoulder to see a second masked Death Eater, this one much taller, preparing to cast another spell.

"Flanked!" he thought.

"Ron!" he shouted, but then he spotted his friend, and Hermione, each duelling for their lives against two more masked Death Eaters, Ron on the far side of the room and Hermione near the stage.

"No choice then," he thought; he had to focus fully on the Death Eater in front of him and hope Ginny could hold out behind him. He sent a pair of stunners at his opponent and tried to edge towards the bar; if they could just get behind it, they'd have some cover.

A roar of purple flames appeared between them and the bar, nearly singing Harry's hair and cutting them off.

"Obscuro! Depulso!" Ginny shouted.

"Stupefy!" the Death Eater behind him shouted at the same time.

He heard the Death Eater crash into a table as Ginny's spells blindfolded him and blasted him away, but she grunted at the same time and slid to the ground. The flames vanished, but as Harry tried to finish off his opponent, the hunched man gave ground, then tried to circle around and take a shot at Ginny, unconscious on the dance floor. Harry growled as he was forced to fall back to protect Ginny while the Death Eater kept his distance and fired off spells to keep him in place.

"He's stalling for time!" Harry thought.

He spotted the Death Eater Ginny had taken down in his peripheral vision sitting up and searching for his wand.

"If he rejoins the fight, I'm done," Harry thought. His alcohol-addled brain raced to figure out what to do. Decision made, he attacked furiously, only to take a small cutting jinx to his wrist from a flick of his opponent's wand. It was enough to throw off one of his spells, and the hunched man, not having to worry about dodging for a moment, raised his wand high with a wheezing cackle….

Only for a massive club bouncer to sprint and leap through the air, smash into his chest, and drive him to the ground. The snake-eyed mask flew off as his head snapped back to reveal the doughy face beneath.

"Amycus Carrow!" Harry thought, then he glanced at the bouncer who'd tackled him and his jaw dropped.

"D-Dudley?" Harry said, "what are you doing here?"

His cousin looked even more muscular than the last time he'd seen him, the t-shirt accenting his massive pectorals and biceps.

"I work here! What are you doing here?" Dudley replied, but Harry said nothing, too shocked to reply.

"Well don't just stand there Pot-head, this is your lot innit? Do something!" Dudley shouted. He shimmied up to a kneeling position and brought a meaty fist back to smash Carrow's face in, but the Death Eater still had his wand, and he blasted Dudley away from him to land heavily on the dance floor several meters away.

"Incarcerous, Expelliarmus," Harry thought, wordlessly binding up Amycus where he lay and disarming him.

"Sanguis Fervia!" someone shouted.

Harry threw his momentum forward and the blood boiling curse flew over his head, and he rolled to his feet to turn and face the Death Eater, the one Ginny had knocked down previously, only to confront a high table transfigured so its single standing leg split into four with barbed spikes at the end of each. It reared up and galloped towards him like a rhino, knocking a hysterical muggle girl out of the way as it charged.

"Expulso," he thought, punctuating the spell with a sharp forward jab of his wand, the blue stream of light following his motion and blasting the charging table with an echoing boom. The table exploded in a shower of wood and metal, but a piece of one of the legs sliced his thigh. Harry deflected a follow up spell from the Death eater as he clutched the wound. His hand came away from his trousers red with blood, but his leg still bore his weight, mostly. Harry spun away on his good leg to dodge another spell and hit his opponent with a silent conjunctivitis curse. The tall Death Eater cried out and clutched his eyes, then spun his wand about, disillusioning himself and vanishing from sight.

"Thank Merlin these guys aren't anywhere near as good as Avery was," Harry thought as he fired off three or four 'Revelio' spells, turning up nothing. Harry hit Ginny with another 'rennervate' to counter the stunning spell she'd taken and put her wand back in her hand as he scanned the room. Ron pressed his opponent back near the far wall while Hermione fought hers to a standstill. Ginny groaned and sat up, much more slowly this time. Figuring he could drop Ginny with Kreacher and come right back, he grabbed her by the arm, but as he focused on Grimmauld and tried to turn in place, nothing happened.

"Dammit," he said, glancing around the room. A crowd of muggles jammed the exit, and several bodies lay strewn about the dance floor, either injured in the initial blast or trampled by panicked clubbers.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. Harry looked over and saw Ron had bound up and disarmed his opponent, and started moving towards Hermione, who duelled another Death Eater near the stage while Julia stood nearby, wand out but apparently hesitating.

"Ron, Hermione, fall back here behind the bar!" Harry shouted, wary of additional hidden enemies.

He hit Ginny with a wordless featherlight charm and pulled her over and behind the bar with him.

"Hey! I can fight!" Ginny said.

Harry was about to reply but Dudley vaulted over the bar and landed heavily next to them.

"Back door," he said, breathing heavily and pointing at the shelf behind them where Harry could barely see the outline of a doorway behind the neon lights and bottles built into it.

Harry nodded, but a shout drew his attention. He looked over to see Hermione, far from falling back, charging up the stage after her retreating adversary. The Death Eater banished the turntable at Hermione and followed up with a curse that Harry saw, but Hermione couldn't as her line of sight was blocked by the hurtling DJ equipment. Hermione ducked below the table, but the curse caught her in the shoulder, and Harry heard the dull crack of breaking bone all the way from across the room as Hermione screamed in pain and fell backwards, her wand clattering to the stage.

"Avada Kedavra!" Hermione's opponent crowed, and the familiar green flash lit up the entire room.

"No!" Harry, Ron, and Julia all cried at once, but only Julia was close enough to do anything as she slashed her wand and flung the turntable back at the Death Eater. The Killing Curse slammed into it, shattering it into dozens of pieces and blasting bits of equipment across the stage and onto the floor. Julia charged onto the stage, her wand already flashing as she went on the attack while Ron knelt over Hermione. Harry jumped back over the bar but fell to one knee as his injured leg screamed in protest. He forced himself back to his feet but then he stopped and stared at Julia spinning and slashing her way across the stage, her wand moving so fast he could barely see it. The masked Death Eater that'd struck at Hermione could barely keep pace with the onslaught of wordless spells, falling back and parrying furiously as Julia advanced; then one got through, and another, and a third, and he fell backwards with a grunt before Ron and an injured Hermione had even gotten off the stage.

"Venor Ambusto-" the Death Eater said from a seated position.

A red stunbolt shot from Julia's wand but the Death Eater fell sideways and it sailed over his chest.

"Diabolica!" he finished.

Heat washed across Harry's face even where he was as orange and yellow flames burst from the Death Eater's wand, quickly resolving into the shape of a lion, its golden mane dripping gobs of liquid fire onto the stage where they kindled small blazes of their own. Already life-sized, it grew quickly as curtains ignited and flames spread across the stage with supernatural speed. The Death Eater transfigured himself into some kind of small bird and flew towards the exit.

"Diffindo!" Harry shouted, aiming over the heads of the clubbers crowding the door at the back of the room, but his spell missed the tiny bird and it zipped around the corner.

Cursing internally, Harry looked back to see Julia, eyes wide, leap off the stage and sprint after Hermione, who had her good arm slung over Ron's shoulder as they limped towards the bar. Harry stepped forward and stubbornly launched several spells at the lion, but it only grew in size and shook its mane in annoyance. The hapless DJ, who'd retreated to the rear of the stage, tried to make a panicked run for the exit and shrieked in terror as the flaming lion noticed him, crouched low for an instant, then pounced and clamped its jaws down on his legs. Harry watched in horror as the flaming beast tossed the muggle into the air and swallowed him whole, silencing him.

"Bloody hell," Harry said, as Ron and Hermione passed him, eyes wide as the conflagration consumed the poor muggle; in mere seconds, there was no trace of him.

"It's bloody fiendfyre! Run!" Julia shouted as she sprinted past, cheeks red from the heat.

Harry rolled back over the bar to where Dudley had partially dragged a resisting Ginny through the door behind the bar.

"Go go go!" Harry said as he waved everyone through the door while watching the room for incoming spells. Ginny and Dudley went first, followed by Ron half carrying Hermione, and Julia. Harry looked to where Amycus Carrow and the other Death Eater had been bound up, but the floor was empty except for a fallen Death Eater mask.

"Accio," Harry thought and the metal mask zoomed to his hand. The fiendfyre lion was now four times the size of a normal lion and still growing larger as it turned and roared at them with the sound and heat of a blast furnace; Harry could actually see the distortions in the air from the fire, and dark smoke now curled about and obscured the stone ceiling of the former cathedral.

"Harry, move!" Ginny shouted.

Harry glanced at the muggles, still not entirely out of the club, and at the ones laying on the ground. He ignored Ginny and raised his wand and mentally ran through what spells he knew might slow it down, only to come up with a pitifully short list… until he was forced to shift stance slightly to parry a blasting curse aimed at him from across the room.

"Protego!" he thought, deflecting the yellow bolt upwards with a ringing ping… directly into the stone ceiling forty feet above with a resounding crash. Harry only caught a glimpse of the masked wizard Ron had been duelling as Ginny pulled him into the back room just as broken stonework from the ruined ceiling tumbled and crashed in front of him in a cloud of dust and smoke, blocking the entrance.

Harry coughed a few times and blinked to clear his eyes, then he backed up a few steps to where the others waited. Despite the debris covering the doorway, he could still hear the roar of the flaming lion and more spellcasting, but they seemed a world away. Ginny pulled him into a tight hug, then stepped back and hit his leg with an episkey. He did the same for her forehead.

"All those muggles," Harry whispered.

"I know, but we can't. Fiendfyre," Ginny said quietly as she finished up on his leg. He tested it out. It wasn't healed fully but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore.

"That's as good as it was going to get until I can see a healer," Harry thought.

"Thanks," Harry said.

He turned to see Ron attempting some rudimentary healing on Hermione's shoulder as she took short, quick breaths through gritted teeth, her good hand clamped down on Julia's. They sat in a storage room for the alcohol the club served. Several metal kegs stacked to his left, and to his right were shelf upon shelf of spirits and mixers. Dudley had already moved to the back of the room.

"Can you walk?" Harry asked Hermione, who nodded, and he and Ron helped her to her feet.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry said.

Harry's stag jumped from the tip of his holly and phoenix feather wand, bathing the back room in blue-white radiance.

"Find Liz, tell her 'Emergency, Death Eaters at Cathedral, anti-apparition wards up, fiendfyre cast, muggles injured and killed, send help'," Harry said, and the stag bowed its head and vanished through the ceiling.

"Bloody hell," Dudley breathed from the back of the room.

"Dudley, is there a way out though the back?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, to the uh… parking garage," Dudley replied as he watched in amazement as Ginny transfigured her heels into flats.

"Dudley, as in your cousin Dudley?" Ron asked, his brow forming a thunderhead threatening to burst.

"Not now Ronald," Hermione growled.

"Yes, my cousin Dudley, can we take care of introductions later?" Harry replied, "let's get out of here."

Dudley took that as his cue and led them briskly through the back room, though not before swiping a bottle of whiskey from one of the shelves. They descended a concrete staircase and down a short hallway, through a locked door into an underground parking lot. Sirens already echoed from above, and Harry's stomach turned at the thought of the carnage that would result if the exits were blocked with fiendfyre rampaging out of control inside. The group ducked around the boom gate at the exit ramp and limped up to street level, emerging on the opposite side of the block from Cathedral's main entrance. Despite not being able to see the fire, they could hear the curse raging within as a red truck passed by the side street to their left, sirens and horns blaring.

"Keep going, across the street," Ron said, "past the wards."

"Right, Hermione, can you manage on your own?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded and slipped out of Ron's grasp, awkwardly cradling her elbow with one hand but with a determined look on her face. Harry quickly sorted out where the biggest threats might come from.

"Ron, take the lead, I'll cover our backs in case anyone follows us. Ginny, watch the street on the left, Julia right," Harry said, "Dudley, Hermione, stay in the middle and watch above us."

"Hang, on what the bloody hell was that, that fire was alive, and it just ate the DJ, what the fuck!" Dudley said.

Harry noticed Julia slide behind Dudley and raised her wand, but Harry caught her eye and shook his head ever so slightly at her, and she lowered it again.

"Dudley, get a grip, we're not out of it yet," Harry said forcefully, "now stay in the middle and watch above us."

Dudley looked like he was about to argue with Harry, but swallowed instead and did as he was told.

"Watch for what?" the bouncer asked.

"Anything 'abnormal'," Harry replied with a hint of disdain in his voice, "let's go."

They moved across the deserted street and Harry walked backwards, trusting the others to keep their eyes open. Once they were back on the path, he glanced around for muggles, but the few he could see were all staring at the burning building.

"Subobscura vestigia," he muttered, waving his wand back and forth. A light fog rolled over the ground at about ankle height. The restricted spell would quickly erase evidence of their passage, preventing anyone from using a tracking spell to pick up their trail. He didn't hear any apparitions.

"With the wards up, Liz will have to instruct them how to get here, and they'll have to come by foot, or by broom. That's why it's taking so long," Harry thought.

His thoughts briefly turned to the muggles still inside, then he shook his head and focused on his job: protecting their back. Once they reached another street, he called out to Ron.

"In here, we might be far enough," Harry said in a loud whisper, pointing to a closed bicycle repair shop set slightly back from the street.

They piled under the awning in front of the glass display. Harry nodded to Ron, who vanished with a pop, and reappeared just as quickly.

"Bloody hell!" Dudley said, followed immediately by everyone else shushing him.

"Can we do introductions now?" Ron asked, glaring at Harry's cousin.

"Dudley, Ron, Ron, Dudley," Harry said, "Ron, I think Hermione needs to get to St. Mungo's and have her shoulder looked at."

"But what about the fiendfyre and.." Ron started, then glanced at Hermione, who looked up at Harry.

"Yeah, I'd better… better go," Hermione said quietly, clearly thinking hard.

"What was that? I'll have to catch up with her later," Harry thought.

"We have to lay low until the cavalry arrives," Harry said, "I'll find you at St. Mungo's."

Ron nodded and took hold of Hermione's good arm, but she shrugged it off.

"I can apparate," she said, "see you there."

She vanished with a loud crack, followed by Ron's soft pop. Julia looked to Harry from where they'd vanished, then over to Dudley.

"So, this is your cousin?" Julia asked, "he doesn't look like you at all."

"Ah, Dudley Dursley, Miss," Dudley said, switching to a silky tone Harry had never heard him use before. He extended a hand to shake.

"White," Julia replied, slowly extending a hand and letting Dudley shake it, "Julia White."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Miss White," Dudley said.

"Likewise," Julia said as she pointedly wiped her hand on her dress.

"And you are?" Dudley asked, turning to Ginny, who opened her mouth and drew a breath.

"Ginny Weasley, my girlfriend," Harry said, certain he was interrupting what was sure to be an interesting tirade.

"Ah right, good on you Harry," Dudley said, nodding to Ginny, who snapped her mouth shut with a 'click'.

Apparition cracks started echoing on the buildings around them.

"Wards are down," Harry thought, "I'll need to speak to whomever shows up."

"Alright, Dudley, get on out of here, head home," Harry said.

"Hang on," Dudley said, grabbing his forearm, "we need to talk."

"I can't now, I need to brief people," Harry said, glancing down at Dudley's massive hand around his arm and then back up at his much taller cousin.

Dudley removed his grip and stepped back.

"Well d'you have a phone number or something I can reach you?" Dudley asked.

Harry shook his head. Dudley glanced at the two girls and then pulled out a little notepad and a pen from his back pocket and scribbled down some digits.

"Look, call me, alright," he said, tearing off the small piece of paper and handing it to Harry.

Harry nodded.

"What the hell is going on, is he just acting civil because of the girls?" Harry thought.

Dudley scribbled down another set, tore off the paper and held it out to Julia with a wink, only to drop it when it burst into flame and fluttered to the ground as glowing ashes.

"Alright then," he said, eyes wide and face turning white.

"Nice meeting you both," he said, very stilted, then he turned on his heel and walked quickly down the street, whiskey bottle in hand.

Julia snorted as Harry watched him go, almost in disbelief.

"Focus!" thought, "fiendfyre, muggles!"

"I need to get to the entrance," Harry said, glancing at Ginny, "do you need to go to St. Mungo's?"

"No, I'm staying with you," she said, taking a half-step closer to him.

Harry nodded and turned to Julia.

"Thank you Julia. If it weren't for you, Hermione…" Harry said, then recalled the Killing Curse inside, a real one this time, he was sure of it, and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"It was just pure instinct," Julia said, "lucky I was in the right place I guess."

Harry nodded.

"That duelling display on the stage was more than pure instinct," he thought, making a mental note to ask about it later.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he said.

Julia glanced towards the corner opposite the street, then made up her mind when a wizard in Auror robes apparated in across the street from them.

"Potter, are you alright?" he called, jogging over to them.

"As illuminating as this evening has been, I've had enough excitement. I'm going back to Hogwarts. Happy New Year Potter," Julia said to Harry, then turned to Ginny, "see you in class, Ginny."

She turned in place and vanished with a soft pop as the Auror arrived; Harry recognized him as Jenkins, the younger of their two targets during the Trial, by his dark hair.

"Potter, Miss Weasley," he said, "Potter, Robards is out in front, better go check in."

"Wonderful," Harry said dryly, taking Ginny's hand and leading her around the front of the building.

Black smoke poured out of the windows above them, and orange fire still lit the interior, though much less intense than before. As they rounded the corner, a scene of pain and suffering greeted them. Dozens of muggles sat or lay on the kerb across the street from the club, some clutching broken limbs or gashes, and the muggle police focused on blocking off the street on both sides. A dozen witches and wizards in grey robes wandered about in front of the building, waving their wands over the muggles, while a few Aurors befuddled the muggle authorities at the ends of the street.

"Obliviators," Harry thought as he watched the grey-clad ministry workers.

"Potter," Robards said, walking up to them, "is there anyone else inside?"

"Some of the muggles were hurt-," Harry said.

"I meant any wizards," Robards cut in.

"Of course, he doesn't care about the muggles," Harry thought.

"Aside from the Death Eaters, no, all of us got out," Harry replied.

"Sir," he added hastily at Robards' narrowing of eyes.

The large senior Auror nodded curtly.

"This is a fine mess, Potter. Did you at least get any of them? Whose mask is that?" Robards asked.

Harry lifted up the Death Eater mask with its intricate engravings and creepy expression.

"Amycus Carrow," Harry replied, "No, they likely all got away, it was difficult to tell with the fiendfyre. Speaking of which, what are we doing about it sir?"

"Unspeakables are bringing it under control now, then we'll let the muggles in to take care of their own," Robards replied, "Dawlish requested you and Weasley meet him at HQ as soon as possible. See that that mask gets to him."

"Ron's taken Hermione to St. Mungo's," Harry replied.

"Well you'd better go and collect him then, eh," Robards replied with a sneer, "dismissed."

"Yes sir," Harry said as Robards turned away towards one of the fire engines, not even waiting for his reply. He glanced at the muggles sitting on the kerb and path, dazed and befuddled, still wearing their clubbing outfits, some barefoot, coughing and covered in soot and bleeding from minor cuts.

"You're right, he really is a prick," Ginny said quietly.

"Uh huh," Harry replied, still staring at the shell-shocked and obliviated muggles, "this was a bad idea."

"Hey," Ginny said, putting an arm around him.

"How many d'you think died in there?" Harry asked, "if we hadn't gone in trying to…"

Ginny moved in front of him and pulled his face down to look at her. His eyes flicked to her forehead where the small cut had healed over, then to her eyes, staring back at him intensely.

"Beautiful brown eyes," Harry thought.

"It's not us, they died because Death Eaters attacked, and didn't care how many muggles they killed in the process," Ginny said, "but it's not your fault, it's their fault."

She was right, of course. Shock at how their actions had led to however many deaths and injuries gave way to anger, anger at not being able to enjoy a simple night out without fearing for his life. He nodded.

"St. Mungo's?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded, and they let go of each other to apparate separately. He appeared in the receiving area of the wizarding hospital to dozens of flashes.

"Protego!" he thought instinctively, only to immediately realize the flashes were reporter cameras. They crowded the reception room and the closest few Harry's shield had pushed back quickly recovered, cameras and notepads in hand.

"Mr. Potter, whose mask is that?" one shouted.

"Miss Weasley, are those muggle clothes?" shouted another.

"Shit," Harry thought, quickly doffing his blazer and throwing it over Ginny's exposed shoulders.

The two of them pushed their way through the throng to find out from reception that Hermione was already in recovery ward room number thirteen, then they pushed their way past the reception area and into the relative quiet of St. Mungo's proper.

"I completely forgot I was wearing this ridiculous outfit," Ginny muttered as they found their way to Hermione's room. The duo received a few stares and glances as they moved through the halls, but nobody stopped them. They found room thirteen easily enough and pushed their way in to find Ron sitting next to Hermione, who sat up in bed, Ron's blazer overly large on her slight frame.

"Hey, how are you?" Harry asked as they moved into the room.

"Broken shoulder, but I'm fine now," Hermione replied, flexing her arm a bit, "just a normal bludgeoning curse. Still a little sore but getting better. They're going to let me out in an hour or so."

Harry nodded.

"Good, I'm glad," he said, then turned to Ron, "Dawlish wants to see us at HQ right away."

"We have a trail to follow?" Ron said, standing up.

"Not sure," Harry replied.

"I'll stay with Hermione," Ginny said.

"Thanks Ginny," Harry said with a light peck on her lips, "see you Hermione."

"Feel better," Ron said.

Harry glanced over at Ron and they prepared to apparate to the Ministry.

"Really Ginny, I'm fine," Hermione said as Ginny sat down next to her, and then Harry was gone, appearing in the Ministry Atrium, Ron following closely behind.

Harry knocked on Dawlish's open door to see the Head Auror in his usual spot, seated before stacks of folders, parchment, and a mostly empty coffee mug. The Pensieve already sat out in the open, ready to be used.

"Good, come in," Dawlish said, "first, is everyone alright?"

Harry nodded.

"All except the muggles," Harry replied, "Hermione is at St. Mungo's but they're going to release her later tonight."

The Head Auror nodded.

"Were any of the Death Eaters taken down?" Dawlish asked, motioning to the mask still in Harry's hand.

"No, they all got away," Harry said, "probably. This was Amycus Carrow's."

He placed the mask face up on the desk, on top of one of the taller stacks.

"I took this wand off one of them," Ron said, fishing it out and placing it next to the mask.

"Hmm. I'll send them down to the Department of Mysteries, see if they can find anything useful," Dalwlish said, slipping the mask and wand into one of his desk drawers.

"Are we going after them tonight sir?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately no, as soon as the wards were lifted, they no doubt apparated away to whatever safehouse they're using," Dawlish replied, moving to the Pensieve, "but I would like to review the memories of the attack tonight."

Harry nodded and pulled the gossamer threads from his temple, making sure to only start from the attack and leave out the conversations with Ginny just prior. Ron did the same, and they both dropped the threads into the wispy grey liquid and dove in.

"That's-," Dawlish said as they reviewed Ron's memory first, squinting as he reviewed the redhead's duel across the room from Harry, "that's Scabior, if I'm not mistaken. Looks like the slimy mercenary survived the war."

"Scabior, the Snatcher?" Ron asked.

Dawlish nodded.

"See the ring?" he asked, pointing to Scabior's hand.

They continued watching, and Dawlish gave a low whistle as they watched through Ron's eyes as the Killing Curse narrowly missed Hermione. They switched to Harry's memories as Ron focused exclusively on Hermione, and Dawlish focused on Julia fighting the Death Eater on the stage.

"Who is that, a student?" he asked as Julia dispatched the Death Eater in only a few seconds.

"That's Julia White, she's a transfer student at Hogwarts, yes," Harry replied, "Ginny said she was good with a wand but I didn't know she was that good."

"Show it again. Where did she learn to duel?" Dawlish asked, walking close to the two and studying the fight a second time.

"France I think," Harry replied, as he noted Julia's near-perfect footwork, even in heeled boots, "it's a good thing she was there."

"That it was," Dawlish said, almost to himself, "I know I've seen that style before… well, perhaps it'll come to me…"

To Harry, it merely seemed as if she'd practiced, heavily; one spell flowed into the next with no wasted movement, but he clearly wasn't as adept at identifying someone by a duelling style as Dawlish was. The memory played on, past the fiendfyre.

"That's Mulciber, he's an animagus," Dawlish said as he transfigured himself and flew off.

The memory ended with the ceiling collapsing, blocking the exit from the club floor.

"Pity you weren't able to capture or kill Carrow or Scabior," Dawlish said after they reappeared in his office, "but at least we now know Scabior is alive, and Carrow is in Britain."

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," Dawlish said.

The rest of the team, Matt, Liz, and Tammy, all wearing their Auror robes, filed into the room. Liz all but ran in and hugged Harry tightly.

"When I got your patronus I kept hoping I would be fast enough," she said.

"You were," Harry replied, patting her back and inhaling deeply when he smelled a hint of alcohol on her breath; she must have been at a party when he sent the call for help.

"None of ours were badly injured," Dawlish said, "save the rest for later."

The newly minted Aurors stood up straight and faced forward, motionless except for Liz wiping a small tear from the corner of one eye.

"Thanks to this attack, we now know Amycus Carrow is back in Britain," Dawlish said, "that brings the total number of Voldemort's inner circle we know or suspect in-country to four."

He walked over to the bulletin board and started pointing at various small photos pinned there.

"Rookwood, Mulciber, Travers, and now Amycus Carrow," Dawlish said, "the Lestrange brothers and Alecto Carrow were spotted in Moscow over the summer, but with Amycus in London tonight, we have to assume his sister is here as well."

Dawlish moved both Carrow twins' photos to the centre of the board.

"Out of all of them, we believe Augustus Rookwood is most likely to be the one to be coordinating the remaining Death Eaters," Dawlish said, "as a former Unspeakable, he's extremely intelligent, knows the Ministry's inner workings, and is skilled in disguise and misdirection. Travers was reportedly sighted in Knockturn Alley in October, and we think he was responsible for leading the attack on Diagon on Halloween. Sightings of Mulciber have been reported in Scotland, though these are sketchy at best. He's also an animagus, which has made him especially tricky to pin down. Tonight, we have confirmation he is indeed here. Starting Monday morning, I'll introduce you to our eyes and ears, who work with our network of informants. Hopefully with the five of you on board, we'll be able to create enough breathing room to mop up the leftovers of Voldemort's forces. Any questions?"

"Sir, shouldn't they be running, why would they come back to London?" Tammy asked.

"They're almost certainly planning something, I'm hoping you'll be able to help us find out what," Dawlish replied, "tonight's attack looked like either a one-off opportunity, or a rush job. They could have all four focused on one of you first and taken you down quietly. My guess is someone was a bit overeager and jumped before they were fully ready."

He moved back behind his desk and sat down again.

"That aside, what is concerning is how they knew you were going to be there," Dawlish continued, "did anyone outside of yourselves know where you were going?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, as did Ron.

"Right, so either you were followed, or someone noticed you were there before and set eyes on the place to notify them if you showed up again," Dawlish said.

Harry shifted slightly. He wasn't sure which he'd prefer, being followed, or having lookouts planted in various places to try and spot him.

"Are there any other questions?" Dawlish asked.

Harry glanced back and forth, but everyone was silent.

"Very well then, dismissed, get some rest," Dawlish said.

They filed out of the Head Auror's office and into the nearly deserted headquarters.

"So, what happened?" Tammy asked almost before the door was closed.

Harry glanced around, then motioned towards one of the unused offices. The five stepped inside, and Matt closed the door behind them.

"We had a lot of fun the last time we went to the club, and we figured after the apology to the goblins, we could do with a bit of stress relief without having to worry about being chased down by the press," Harry said, "everything was going fine…"

He recounted the story of what happened at the club, leaving out that it was his cousin who tackled Carrow.

"And then we reported here, and you know the rest," he said.

"You guys were pretty lucky," Matt said, "I guess no more muggle night clubs for us."

"I don't know about that, maybe we all should have gone, would have been a different story," Tammy said, "we probably could have caught all of them."

It seemed Tammy wasn't willing to give up clubbing entirely. Not that it mattered, Harry wouldn't be venturing out again and putting all those innocent muggle lives at risk until all the Death Eaters were accounted for.

"Maybe," Harry said, "anyway, it's late, and we still need to catch up with Hermione and Ginny."

The others nodded and the team dispersed. Ron and Harry returned to St. Mungo's; the press had since departed, so they easily made their way back to Hermione's room, only to find it empty.

Harry reached into his pouch, fished around for a moment, and withdrew a small notepad. He scribbled a short note.

"Hi. Back at St. Mungo's, where'd you go?" he wrote, and the ink sank into the page.

It took a moment for Ginny to reply, the words appearing in her slanted script.

"They discharged Hermione, and I went with her back to Hogwarts. Are you done?" she wrote.

"What's that?" Ron asked, peering at the notebook.

"Ginny's Christmas present to me, two-way notebooks, lets us write to each other," Harry replied, "they went back to Hogwarts."

"Ah, brilliant," Ron said in response to Harry's description of the gift, then deflated at the news the girls were already at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, I'm sure she'll be alright," Harry said while he scribbled another note to Ginny.

"Yes, come over?" he wrote.

Ginny only responded with a large smiley face and Harry chuckled.

"Alright, I'm just going to turn in then," Ron said, "see you tomorrow?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, see you," he said.

Ron apparated away and Harry did the same, popping over to Grimmauld place. Kreacher almost immediately appeared by his side.

"Master Harry has returned," the ancient house elf said.

"Hi Kreacher, please prepare some tea and honey for two," Harry said.

Kreacher bowed and vanished, and Harry turned his attention to the cut on his wrist. It was on his wand hand and he couldn't get his wand pointed properly to heal it, and he wasn't about to try with his off hand. He gave up and sat down on the couch. The tea arrived but Ginny still hadn't. The memory of the muggle DJ shrieking as fiendfyre consumed him started playing through his mind over and over, despite his increasingly frantic attempts to distract himself.

"She needs to get clear of the school's wards," he thought, as he drummed his fingers on his thigh, but just as he did, she appeared in his living room with a pop, still wearing his blazer.

She turned around to find him already standing up. Two steps and she was in his arms, then kissing him deeply.

"It's never a simple night out, is it?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Listen, before we go any further, I need to tell you something," she said. Harry dropped his hands to hers and studied her earnest expression.

"I know you were worried about those muggles, I was too, but when there's fiendfyre coming for you, please do what any sane person does, and run, okay?" Ginny said.

Harry took in her expression and found himself still amazed by the depth of concern she had for him, and nodded.

"Okay," he replied.

"Good," she said, then dropped his blazer to the ground behind her and threw her arms around him to kiss him again, this time probing with her tongue.

Harry acquiesced, relishing the feel and taste of her, but as Ginny started pulling him towards the couch, he thought of the chafing he'd suffered the last time.

"Wait wait," he said, the words coming out odd as she nibbled on his lower lip, "bed."

Ginny growled in frustration but switched direction and dragged him over to the stairs without breaking contact. Clothing ended up scattered across the steps and they stumbled up and into the bedroom. Harry kicked the door closed behind him as Ginny pulled him to the extra-large mattress. The couple tumbled into bed just as their very last articles of clothing fell to the floor.

It was indeed a night to remember.