A/N: I'm back! I know, it has been a very long time since the last update. But worry not. I am still here, and still trying to hopefully one day get this story to its finish line. Many reviews have poured in since the last update. A lot of them amazing, many of them very educational and helpful regarding writing advice. And some of them quite disturbing. Either way, thanks for leaving feedback, regardless of it being positive or negative, always nice to read another person's point of view.
Chapter 48: Christmas Eve
24th December ,1998
The air was freezing cold as he stood there, trying to desperately warm up. Everything was quiet. Only the whistling wind was his companion up here. During the last few weeks, they've had to move around quite a lot; tons of travellers all over the place. Plus, word was out that the Ministry was starting to widen their search for the remaining Death Eaters. Of course, they were being hunted in every single part of the globe by every magical government in the world, but the British Ministry was almost certain that the remaining Death Eaters were still in the country. And they were correct to think that. Yaxley wasn't certain what his next move should be. Everything pretty much depended on tonight. That was when he heard footsteps close behind him.
"You should know better than to sneak up on me, Macnair." Yaxley grumbled.
Macnair gave a chuckle, "I wasn't really trying to. I'd never bother to sneak up on the slimiest snake in all of the ministry."
Yaxley looked back at him, confused. "What are you on about now?"
"The Dark Lord only sent those to the ministry, whom he knew were the best at lying and sneaking around like rats and snakes. You are no exception to that; You know how to lie your way out of every situation. Which I always found interesting considering you're not much a man of words, but rather actions." Macnair explained. Yaxley knew instantly that he was trying to annoy him, and so he didn't bother playing around.
"The dark lord chose me to be his inside man at the Ministry alongside Pious because unlike most of you idiots, we actually knew how to take care of ourselves when surrounded by enemies. We knew how to get out of tough spots. It's exactly why I managed to survive the castle and it's also why I'll survive this shit." He answered.
Macnair clearly couldn't think of anything to counter that with, and so he remained where he stood, staring ahead into the pitch-black horizon. Snow started to slowly fall when he spoke again.
"When will Greyback return?"
Yaxley shook his head, "That, I am unsure of. It's not exactly the simplest task. But he's done this before, so I assume he'll manage." He tried to make himself sound perfectly sure and confident, but he found himself clutching onto his wand tighter than ever, as they both stared into the abyss, awaiting their comrade.
There was something about the fire tonight… something about the way it crackled in the fireplace, that made it so much more enticing than ever before. Harry always enjoyed Christmas Eve more than actual Christmas day. The night before Christmas was always so warm and quiet. So peaceful. Even during his days at the Dursley's, it was always very enjoyable. Everyone usually went to bed early so that they can be up in time for the morning to open presents. But Harry always found himself staying up till late. He would sneak out of his cupboard and trot quietly to the living room, just to look out the window, and admire the snow and the night sky. The silence. You could sometimes hear the occasional carol being sang somewhere far away. The Christmas tree was always the brightest during those special days, as if some spell had been placed on it.
Tonight, was no different. As he sat on the couch, constantly switching his gaze between the window and the fireplace. On one side, he had the scorching flames, slowly biting away at the wood, on the other, the cold night, with tiny snowflakes gently falling to the ground. Tomorrow would be the perfect time to go out into the garden, maybe make a snowman.
Harry smiled at himself as he reached the realisation that his life was finally his own. He had the power to do anything he wanted, at any moment. He no longer needed to listen to anyone. The world didn't need to be saved anymore. There was no one looking for him. No more life-threatening issues. It had been a long while since he had the chance to truly relax and just enjoy the Christmas holiday. And it pleased him greatly to know that there were many more of these to come in the following years.
His fingers were gently rotating his wand. He loved the texture of the wood. Round and round as he stared at the flames. But then he looked down at it. The Holly and Phoenix Feather was in great shape, ever since he managed to fix it with the Elder Wand. Harry could never quite explain it, but there was something about this wand that he liked much more compared to the Elder Wand. Something that drew him towards it. Although, the Elder Wand was considered the most powerful one in the world, Harry never found himself having the desire to use it or carry it as his main wand, which is why he promised himself to return the wand where it belonged. But every time the idea came back to his mind, he imagined himself returning to that white tomb, and it would make his stomach queasy. He didn't look upon Dumbledore's grave since the day of the funeral, and he had no wish to see it again ever since. There was a big part of him which still didn't believe Dumbledore was gone, a part of him expected the headmaster to pop out of nowhere with that same wise smile Harry knew so well. Similarly, to Dumbledore, Harry promised himself that he would leave the wand be and allow for its power to diminish once its master dies of a natural death. However, there were times, very rare times, when he felt like taking it out from his Hogwarts chest and holding it. Maybe even cast a few spells. His mind drifted back to the first few days after the war when he wandered Hogwarts, repairing walls and windows. The wand was so easy to use, every spell felt so simple yet so powerful. It truly was an incredible artifact. But that was exactly why it had to be hidden away and never used by anyone again. For the best.
"There you are" Hermione sighed, as if a worry has been lifted from her mind. She entered the living room and sat down next to Harry on the sofa, smiling at him, "What are you doing here? All on your own?"
Harry grinned back at her as he hid the wand back under his hoodie, "I was just enjoying the fire." His answer made Hermione giggle. "You really are a pyromaniac, you know that?" She kissed him on the cheek, "Don't worry, I still love you."
Harry chuckled, "It's not the idea of burning things. It just feels really cosy. It feels like home." He explained to her. Then he grabbed her and pulled her down, making both of them lie down on the sofa, out of sight.
They were about two minutes into making out, when Ron wondered into the room.
"Harry? Hermione!" He called.
Hermione slowly lifted her lips from Harry's, "Are we cursed or something? This is getting a bit unnatural at this point." Harry just laughed as they shifted on the sofa and sat up. Ron noticed their heads after a moment and smiled, "Ahh, there you are!" He jogged over to them and jumped to the sofa, making a couple pillows fly to the ground.
"I think someone has had a couple butterbeers too much." Harry chuckled.
"Harry, you've been the owner of a butterbeer cellar for eighteen bloody years and we never knew until this year. Do you have any idea how sad that makes me?" Ron complained.
Hermione laughed, "We didn't know till just a couple months ago when Beamey gave us a full tour of the basement. The Potters even have their own potions lab."
"Merlin… maybe we could use that lab to brew more butterbeer, eh?" Ron exclaimed, making all of them laugh. "You know guys, I have a confession to make."
"What is it?" Harry asked, "Did you accidentally finish the entire barrel?"
"No, no. Seriously. I'm kind of disappointed in the decision I've made. With not going back to Hogwarts and all. I think… I think Hermione was right. Work wasn't going to run away. It was there waiting for us the moment we were ready. And I do love the Auror training, I really do. But I just feel like I rushed this adult business a bit. I miss being a student." Ron admitted, looking very gloom suddenly.
Harry patted him on the back, "Don't worry mate, you're not missing all that much. There's actually a lot more studying this year, and I don't remember Hogwarts being so stressful before, and I'm comparing it with the time when an evil wizard was trying to kill me" The comment made everyone lose composure, and Ron's gloominess disappeared as quickly as it came.
"Harry is right. It really isn't the same at Hogwarts, either. Things feel a little… well, different. It might be because Dumbledore isn't there anymore. Or because we aren't exactly part of a year. It's all just very messy. It's not like it used to be." Hermione added.
The three of them sat there for a while, just admiring the flames.
"You have to admit it guys, life is kind of insane. I mean… at this time last year… things were not looking very good." Ron mused.
Harry thought back to last year. At about this time, him and Hermione would be wondering Godric's hollow, in search for another Horcrux, while still trying to find a way to kill the one they already had. Ron left them. They were wanted all over Britain, and Hogwarts was overtaken by Death Eaters. If someone told Harry back then that in a year he would be sitting at his Parents' mansion, next to the love of his life, he would have laughed them off. And yet, here they were. Perfectly safe, unharmed, and Voldemort was gone.
"Hey guys, I have a semi-serious question." Ron announced. Harry and Hermione glanced at him, curiosity filling the room quickly; Ron very rarely asked serious questions. "So like, we pretty much hated Snape for the first six years at Hogwarts, and in the seventh, we basically tried our best to kill him. Am I the only one who has been having a hard time getting used to seeing him as a good guy?"
The question echoed through the room for a good couple seconds before either Harry or Hermione spoke.
"Well… I guess it just depends how you look at it. After everything that has happened, and after everything that we know. Snape was always kind of a good guy. Kind of." Hermione answered first.
"But how?" Ron protested. "You don't remember that one time in third year when he basically started screaming at both Harry and Dumbledore, demanding that they allow for Sirius to get executed? You know get kissed by the dementors and stuff.
Don't get me wrong, I know that he was bullied by the old trio, but wishing death upon them? I really did always hate Malfoy, right until the moment he passed Harry his wand during the battle, but I don't remember ever wishing him death. The most I ever wanted for him was to get wedgied by a troll or something." Ron added.
"Ron, you need to unders-
"No, Ron is right." Harry stopped Hermione before she could finish. The two of them looked at him, clearly surprised.
"I am?" Ron asked, in utter disbelief.
"Yes, you are. Severus Snape was many things, but he definitely was not always a good guy. He's been on both sides, many times, as far as I know. I also know that my mum had a lot of influence over his decisions. But I think what matters, is that deep down inside, he always wanted to be good.
Voldemort was always evil. I think Tom Riddle had a little boy within him that had the ability to be good, that's why some teachers truly liked him, just like Slughorn, and just like Dumbledore did too. But when Tom Riddle became Voldemort, there was no good left. Snape on the other hand, well… it is different. No one is born evil. We become the people we choose to become. That is what I believe. If we want to be evil, we will be. If we want to be good, we can wake up and try every day to do so." Harry explained.
Albus Dumbledore would be proud, he thought to himself.
Silence filled the room for a good minute before Ron spoke again. "Harry, mate. You're starting to become like one of those proper wise wizards. Your speeches are legendary, man."
They all laughed. "Thank you, Ron. But I do mean what I say. I still remember when I first found out that Snape was the one who used a counter charm against Professor Quirrell to stop me from falling off that broom. Back in first year."
"Oh yeah, I remember that like it was yesterday. I was so terrified you'd fall." Hermione shivered.
"Well, thanks to Snape, we had just enough time for Hermione to do her smartest witch in all of Hogwarts thing and set him on fire, causing him to knock Quirrell out and therefore saving the day." Harry explained.
"Can you actually imagine the craziness of that stuff? I mean come on; we were freaking ELEVEN!"
They all laughed again, this time taking much longer to calm down.
"Not a single bloody year of peace, I swear. Every year at Hogwarts was absolutely crazy. Not even one month of calm and relaxation. Just constant chaos and action. The pros and cons of being best friends with Harry bloody Potter I guess." Ron mused between breaths.
Hermione could feel Harry's shoulders tense up as he stopped laughing. She kissed his forehead, reassuringly. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."
"Oh nah, one hundred percent, same here. I loved every second of it. Maybe not the parts where someone got hurt or worse, but damn. We have so many stories to tell our kids." Ron added, his smile slowly disappearing. He was clearly thinking about Fred.
Harry didn't like thinking about Fred. Or anyone who died during the battle for that matter. The entire thing was still sore in his mind. Over the months, Hermione taught him to occupy his mind with other thoughts, to try and distract himself from the blame, and the depression of it all. She knew he would always feel responsible, and she knew that nothing she'd say would change that.
Harry started picturing something else Ron mentioned, instead. Having kids. It reminded him of his vision. Seeing Hermione, slightly older, and hearing their kids. He smiled at the idea, although hoped it wasn't too close; he didn't know how ready he was to be a dad right this second.
"Well. We should probably join the others. We're not being the most pleasant hosts right now." Hermione informed as she stood up and offered her hands to them.
"I was able to break the invisibility enchantment for a few minutes, but the house looked empty. Lights were off, and no one in sight. The defences were very advanced. I barely managed with the incantations." Greyback reported.
"Did you smell anything? Any clue where they went?" Yaxley pleaded, desperate for good news.
Greyback shook his head, "Nothing." The werewolf looked even more disappointed than he sounded.
Yaxley cursed as loud as he could, before casting a bolt of lightning into a nearby boulder from his wand. The boulder split in half, and smoke erupted. Macnair, who usually made a good job of not revealing fear, looked quite intimidated by Yaxley's reaction.
"We can't keep this up. Potter clearly found a new hideout. Grimmauld Place is empty, plus it's still being protected by that filthy house elf. Hogwarts is impenetrable right now, and there is no one in Gringotts or the ministry that could help us track him down. Even the goblins that used to be on our side have turned to Potter's side." Rowle told the three.
"Rowle is right. Goblins are no good either. There would have been a chance there, but after the massacre at Gringotts, they hate us just as much as the ministry." Macnair added.
Yaxley was already pissed enough as it was, but Macnair's blabber almost tipped him over the edge. He was at the man's throat in seconds, grabbing him by the collar, and staring into his eyes with a venomous look. "Are you really questioning the Dark Lord's actions right now? Did you really just do that? Do you have any idea what kind of punishment that would have awarded you if he were still among us!"
Rowle raised his wand and pointed it at Yaxley "Alright. Let's just all calm down, shall we?"
"Yaxley. This is pointless." Greyback added. "Our priority is the boy. We need our numbers."
Yaxley knew this. After a couple moments, he let go of Macnair, but not without giving the man some advice about mentioning the Dark Lord like that again. He was also slightly thrown off by the reasonableness of Greyback. For a werewolf, he's been rather social, responsible, and very resourceful the past few months. As if that mudblood hit him with some kind of intelligence curse.
"We need a new plan." Rowle informed them, putting his wand away.
"I already have one. And I'm certain it's going to work."
It was cold. His boots felt heavy. Granted, they were utility boots, and came with the job. But, as he walked down the abandoned street, tired and anxious, they became heavier by the second, almost to the point of being unbearable. But he trotted on through the snow. His hand was clutching hard onto the wand. Although at this point, he started wondering whether his fingers were simply stuck frozen around the perfectly etched elder wood. The rage continued to stir within his chest. It was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Making him push forward towards the only lit house in the entire village. They were in that house, he was sure of it. The snow grew thinner as he walked, and was now being replaced with mud, which made his feet stick harder to the ground as he pressed on, only venomous anger, pumping through his veins, was fuelling him forward. Eventually, he made it to the front door. The house was completely silent, but he could sense the magic around it. Whoever was residing inside this house, wanted to make sure outsiders would have a hard time getting inside. Granted, if it was just any ordinary wizard standing outside this house, the protective charms would have surely been a challenge. But he was no ordinary wizard. He could not see the invisible aura of the protective charm, surrounding the big wooden cottage. But he could feel it. As its magic purged the corners of the property, almost hissing at its soon to be intruder. It was dark magic, but it mattered not.
He gave his arm a little tug to make sure there was still blood running through his arteries, and then performed a very simple wave. It was elegant, smooth. The kind of cast you would get from only the most experienced and proud wizards. Albus Dumbledore would surely be impressed. Hell, maybe even Tom Riddle himself would be surprised. The wand listened to his command as if it was the first and the last at the same time. It always worked like that for him, absolutely loyal, without any hesitation. Not even a single complaint from the core as it is commanded to work. As he stood there now, seeing a very impressive protective charm fall apart in front of his eyes, fully visible now as it died, he wondered to himself, how has a wand managed to stay so powerful for so many years. And just how beautifully well it performed for him, as if he was the only true master it was meant to ever have. It was an addictive power, consuming and dangerous. But now as he stood, with nothing left but vengeance, he shared the tiniest smile with only himself, grateful to have experienced such power. As corrupting as it was.
Blink.
It felt like every day started with a blink, that first moment you opened your eyes to greet the new day. There was always that one bink which started the day. It wasn't always a happy blink. Sometimes it was a groggy one, like when you need to get up in the morning, and you're tired. Or when you know it's going to be a tough day. But then there's also happy blinks. Like the ones when you wake up with excitement. Today was that morning. It was Christmas. And it was time to open gifts. It wasn't about the idea of receiving gifts, but rather the idea of seeing others open gifts they have been given. Harry never truly had the chance to feel the satisfaction of getting other people gifts. But now, with all his wealth, at least he could do the one thing he really wanted; spoil the ones he loved.
Harry sat up and looked at the fresh layer of snow outside. It was a perfect Christmas morning. He looked back at his sleeping beauty. She looked so peaceful and mesmerising at the same time. Easily one his favourite views. He smiled to himself.
It's going to be good day.
… to be continued.
A/N2: I am not fully certain when the next chapter will be up, but I will make sure to get it out very soon. Promise! Also wanted to let everyone know that I don't get much time to proof-read and correct a lot of grammatical/spelling mistakes. I always make sure to give a chapter a second read-through prior to publishing it, but many times, my eyes will miss certain errors I have created. I apologise for that as I know it can be very annoying, but I am just one person, who doesn't post enough to get a proof-reader, but does not have the leisure to spend time reading my chapters repeatedly. I hope you understand : )
