Chapter Seven - An Unfortunate Relationship

Harry ducked under three rapid curses, took two steps, threw himself into a roll, and came to his feet moments later firing curses back at his attackers. His spells lanced out, bolts of red, green, blue, and yellow light. Without waiting to see if the spells landed, he turned on the spot and Apparated back to his former position. He cast another two curses and Disapparated again. He reappeared in a flanking position and saw the two curses splash against a hasty shield.

He brought his wand up under his opponent's chin. "You're dead."

Theo swore and dropped down to the floor. Harry Apparated away, searching for his other foe.

The training room at Number Twelve was filled with grey mist. It was impossible to see more than a few feet. There were assorted trip hazards scattered on the floor. A few large boulders had been placed in the room as potential cover.

Harry stayed on the move, silent on Charmed feet, a trick he had picked up from his fellow prefects. He kept his breathing steady, unable to get as much air as he needed through his nose.

The mist lit up as a red bolt of magic was conjured into being. Harry ducked out of the way, but it had been too close. He shot a Stunner at the source of the spell, Apparated to the side, and cast again. The two Stunners flared against a shield, but now Harry could see his opponent.

With a wave of his wand, the mist at Draco's feet froze solid. Unable to dodge effectively, he wasted precious moments freeing himself. By then, Harry had him.

Draco picked himself up off the floor with good grace. "Nice trick."

"Not bad," Harry said modestly.

"Breather?" Draco suggested.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

"You're getting better than us," Draco said, stretching his back. "How much extra work do you do when we're not here?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "We're together most hours, Draco. I do sleep sometimes. Not like some people."

Theo grunted. "Got to make up for lost time. I spent a whole year feeling sorry for myself instead of getting ready."

Harry didn't like it when Theo casually dismissed his fifth year, but repeated discussion had only resulted in shouted words and frustrations. He had fled to Hogwarts after poisoning his own father in self-defence. It had taken a long time for Theo to crawl out of his black despair and speak to them again.

He was indeed doing his best to catch up to the others. He had always been a gifted wizard but was now dangerous. He had killed a Death Eater during the raid on Hogwarts, using high-pitched sonics to liquify the man's brain. It was a curse that had been recently added to the Ministry's list of Unforgivable Curses. Indeed, Theo had used that list for inspiration.

Lucas Slater had crossed that line as well. The two had trained long hours together, stewing in their separate hatreds. His trail through the castle was littered with the residue of morally dubious spells. He had killed three Death Eaters, losing to a fourth. That fourth had made a ruin of his body. Only by process of elimination had they been able to determine his identity.

Harry knew their path of darkness could easily be his own. He was well aware that he was trodding the path even now. He also had blood on his hands. He too had extinguished a life spark.

Rodolphus Lestrange had been leading one of the teams of Death Eaters. Harry had used a Strangler to deprive the man of air. He had been the first to die.

In the heat of the moment, Harry hadn't given any thought at all to using a lethal spell like the Strangler. He had only focused on stealth. He had long ago accepted the need for the Death Eaters to perish, but with the lives of others at stake, he had not had any time for soul searching or navel gazing.

Now he thought about it too much. Rodolphus' face haunted him, turning red, then purple, then black as the Strangler deprived him of air and then of life. The eyes bulged, filling with panic as he failed to instantly recall the countercurse. With only moments to act, he clutched at his throat with his fingers scratching desperately but finding no purchase.

Oxygen starvation was terrifying. It was a horrible way to die. Not that any way could be said to be good, but some ways were decidedly more messy and/or painful than others.

Draco had put a Slicer across Jugson's throat. So far, he hadn't said anything to them about it. Harry knew that his own head was a mess, and he hadn't talked to anyone either.

Though the adults knew — had to know! — that they had taken life, they had yet to broach the subject with any of them. Harry knew from watching Sirius confront Lucius when Theo had poisoned his father that Lucius was waiting for the right time, whenever that was.

Harry had resorted to Dreamless Sleep potion on more occasions than could be termed medically appropriate. He knew Aunt Andromeda would scold him when she learned the truth (for she always did), but he figured a bit of an addiction was a price worth paying to avoid seeing Rodolphus' face in his dreams too.

Harry looked at Theo and Draco. "We should talk."

"What about?" Theo said flippantly.

Harry snorted derisively. "Your propensity to avoid the subject. We killed people. We shouldn't bottle up our thoughts and feelings."

Theo's expression was flinty. "They deserved it. I only regret that I didn't kill more of them. Slater got two up on me."

"Was it so easy for you then?"

"It couldn't have been easier," Theo promised.

"You're sleeping okay?" Harry knew his friend could be callous at times, but could he really be so cavalier about killing someone?

"Like a baby."

Harry found it difficult to believe. "I haven't had a good night's sleep since the battle."

"Me either," said Draco, his voice suddenly raspy. "I just keep seeing the blood gushing from his throat. Every time I hear water, all I can think about is the splash when it hit the floor."

Theo's sneer was audible. "We knew this war would involve bloodshed. Are you really such nancies that you shy away from the necessary work we must do?"

"I never realised I would have to live with myself afterwards," Draco said, his tone bitter. "I can't sleep. I can't eat. I've lost weight."

"The Death Eaters must be made to eat death and perish," Theo declared, in an iron voice. "I swear, it will be done,"

"Don't you go making magical oaths," Draco cautioned. "We know you're committed. You ought to be committed. You don't have anything to prove to us."

Theo twirled his wand through his fingers. "If you don't have the stomach for it, Draco, I'll be happy to take your place at Harry's side."

"This isn't about position, you knob," Draco sneered. "Anyway, I doubt you could make Voldemort want to kill you more than me."

"I killed his scholar," Theo pointed out. "He has to want revenge for that."

"Actually," Harry interjected, "that made him like you. Patricide is a crime near and dear to him."

Theo's skin took on a green cast. "I may vomit now."

"The fact that you don't feel anything is troubling to me, Theo," Harry said. "Did you enjoy killing?"

Theo folded his arms across his chest. "And if I say yes, is that going to be your reason to kick me out of the Order?"

"Maybe," Harry said bluntly. "We don't fight because we want to fight. We fight because we have no other choice."

Theo's gaze was steady. "They made me poison my father. I had no other choice if I wanted to keep living."

Harry hadn't tended to count Mr. Nott because of the awful nature of what he'd done to Theo, but now he realised Theo hadn't been grappling with just the betrayal from his father. They had all managed to overlook the fact that he had taken life, and he had wrestled with that burden alone.

"Theo, I'm sorry we didn't understand what you were going through."

"You couldn't have."

"No," Harry agreed, "but we didn't even know what we didn't understand. All I could think about was that you'd lost your dad. It didn't even register that you'd had to take another life."

Theo shrugged. "It was hard to come to terms with it, but we all have to grow up some time."

"And I thought I was flip." Harry had never broached this subject with Theo before. "We know you poisoned your dad. But that's all we know. Did you watch him die?"

Theo didn't answer.

"What poison did you use?" Harry pressed. "Nightshade, wasn't it? Did he have convulsions? Foam at the mouth? Vomit?"

Theo glared at Harry, and his wand hand twitched. "Why do you care?"

"Because I watched a Death Eater die, and I need to talk about it," Harry burst out. "He was grasping at his throat, desperate for air."

"How fitting," Theo said. "I saw it too, Harry. You did good."

"I don't want to hear praise," Harry snarled. "I want to hear someone else talk about how he watched a Death Eater suffer and die in agony. I want to know I'm not the only one who enjoyed it."

"I didn't precisely enjoy it," Theo corrected. He sounded bored, but Harry noticed his jugular vein throbbing. For all his supposed boredom, his pulse was racing. "It was necessary."

"Did you enjoy it, Harry?" Draco said softly. "I didn't. I wish I had used a different spell."

"I didn't," Harry replied somberly. "I know it had to be done, and I know we were the ones who had to do it, but I did not enjoy it. But I don't feel bad about it either. And I feel bad that I don't feel bad about it. Does that make any sense?"

Draco nodded. "Sort of. You think you ought to feel guilty about taking life, because that is how you were brought up. Murder is wrong."

"Yes."

"This wasn't murder, Harry," Theo interjected. "It was killing, yes, but it was not murder. Murder is a choice. You had no choice."

Harry wanted to believe that with all his heart. "I could have used non-lethal spells. I could have incapacitated instead."

"You know they would have eventually recovered. Then they would have tried to murder you and all of us." The Order had had this conversation many times, but now they'd had to put it into practice.

Harry blew out his breath all at once. "I know that in my head, but-"

"You were acting in defence of the school and the students. You did right."

"Maybe someday I will start to believe it," Harry said, his voice bitter.

"You will," Theo assured him. "It doesn't have to be today."

Harry felt somewhat better after hearing how his friends were coping. Even if he was disturbed by Theo's cold-blooded dismissal, at least Draco felt the same way.

"So I've got some news," Harry said to change the subject. "Dumbledore is retiring as Headmaster."

The other boys were intrigued.

"Interesting," Draco said in his slow drawl. "Old McGonagall taking over then? Who's going to be the new Deputy Head?"

Harry shook his head. "Not a clue."

"Do we know why?" Theo said.

"They haven't said why, but I imagine it has to do with that nasty curse on Dumbledore's hand." Harry had not told Theo or Draco about the Horcruxes. Sirius, Remus, Lucius, and Professor Snape all knew, but he wasn't going to tell his friends unless it became a necessity.

"How did you find out?" Theo asked.

"Sirius is taking her place as Transfiguration Master."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. That's funny. He certainly does know how to teach and he is an accomplished Animagus, but come now. Sirius as a professor? You must be joking."

Harry considered it. "You're right. That would make a good joke. Unfortunately it happens to be true."

"Unfortunately?" Draco said.

"Would you want your dad teaching at school?" Harry asked pointedly.

Draco looked a bit sick. "As it happens I've got news of my own. Father will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

That news was almost as momentous. Harry felt like he could be pushed over with a mild breeze.

"What about Professor Snape?" Theo demanded. "He was the best."

"I don't know," Draco replied. "All I know is that McGonagall asked Father to teach Defence."

"It's an amazing thing," Harry said. "Look at how much he's taught us."

"Snape taught us a lot too!" Theo flared.

"No one says he didn't," Harry said agreeably, "but there's that whole curse on the position to contend with, you know. Snape didn't want to die, so he agreed to just the one year."

"So what is he going to do, go back to teaching Potions? What about Slughorn? Slughorn is incredible."

"And Snape isn't?" Harry said. "He'll be crushed to hear it."

"Well of course Snape is incredible," Theo said, as though Harry had said the sky was blue. "He's stellar at everything and we know this, but that's not the point. We need him teaching Defence."

"No," Draco disagreed, "the point is that Snape is the Potions Master and he is supposed to be teaching Potions."

Theo was not convinced. "Slughorn used to be the Potions Master for many many years and he's a former Head of Slytherin House too."

"We all knew Slughorn didn't really want to come back. The only reason he did it is because Dumbledore asked him," Harry said.

Theo kicked the carpet. "I like Slughorn. I love that he gave out prizes and had little competitions. I love that he plays favourites and has the Slug Club."

"You're not mad you're not in it?"

Theo shrugged. "What connections do I have to offer? None. Even if I hadn't killed my father, there's not much of the family left, certainly nobody to whom I would call myself close. The family name had a lot of respect but not much influence or power." Theo looked into the distance, tilting his head, suddenly contemplative. "Maybe that's why he signed up with the Death Eaters. Maybe he wanted a chance for power and influence. I don't know. I don't think I ever saw that side of him. His only ambition ever seemed to be to accumulate knowledge. He always told me that was the route to success." Theo shook himself out of his reverie. "Anyway, the person you really ought to be asking if they're upset or not is Draco."

Harry glanced over at his best mate. "What of it? You've never said anything, and honestly, sorry, I never gave it much thought."

Draco shrugged. "You know, I wish I was in it. I don't really understand why I'm not, but I know that you can't force these things. Sluggy has his reasons, and no one is going to change his mind. The only thing one can do is to demonstrate greater value and show him that he should change his mind. Yes, my father is influential, but that's not enough. I am not influential. I'm not a power broker here in Slytherin. That's you, Harry. I'm honest enough with myself to admit it. Even without you here, I probably wouldn't be one either. Without your moderating influence, I don't think I'd be able to tolerate this one," he said pointing at Theo, not looking at him.

"Honestly, I feel the same way, Draco," Theo said without missing a beat.

"I might have Goyle and C-c-crabbe," Draco said, his voice cracking, "but that's it. I know I wouldn't have been able to tolerate Zabini. Do you remember what a gobshite he was in first year?"

Harry laughed. "Nobody could forget that."

"Knowing my luck, those two would have teamed up and been best mates. Pretentious prats, the pair of them," Draco said morosely. "Pansy would still be doing her thing, of course, but who knows if I would even be all that popular in the first place?"

"No, I don't think I would've been able to stand Zabini either," Theo said. "Maybe I would've warmed up to him if he stuck around, but that's a big if."

"So no, I don't really regret not being included," Draco concluded. "It would be fun, I'm sure, but I'm just not the right sort of person that Slughorn is looking to cultivate."

"I don't think I've ever heard you be so honest about your own character flaws," Theo marvelled.

"Oh shut up," Draco said with disgust. "Anyway, it's your turn."

"My turn for what?" Theo sounded confused.

"Your turn to share staffing news, of course," Draco said as though it were completely obvious. "Who's going to be teaching Astronomy?"

"Why would I know that?" Theo demanded.

Draco smirked. "Well, you know everything, or so you keep claiming."

Theo rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Draco."

"You shut up."

Theo ignored him. "No, I don't know who will be the new professor for Astronomy. It's so hard to believe though."

"Tell me about it," Draco said. "I always knew in an abstract sort of way that the teachers were sworn to protect us. I just never thought I'd see one of them fulfil that oath."

Harry had always liked Professor Sinistra. She had made Astronomy engaging and fun and every lesson was enjoyable. Even the rote, tedious task of learning all of the moons of each planet had been interesting thanks to her creative lessons. Harry had needed to drop the subject at the start of sixth year, a choice that he did regret, a choice that he wished he had made differently, for he would've liked to have spent one last year with the professor.

Her and so many more.

His friends' faces flashed in his mind's eye: Laine, Lucas, Crabbe, Terry. He would give all the gold in his Gringotts vault to spend even an hour with any of them.

Even those who hadn't been his friends: Lisa, Sally, Cormac. Cormac, perhaps the most supremely annoying individual Harry had ever met, and knowing that he would never irritate Harry again caused an indefinable, indescribable agony.

No more, he vowed, as he caught his breath.

Yet there would be more. They were at war, and casualties were inevitable. Despite their best training, regardless of their fiercest tactics, more people were going to die.

With a roar of impotent rage, Harry hurled his water glass at the wall. He drew his wand and began throwing the most destructive curses he could think of at the Duelling Dummies. They absorbed it all, exploding or crumbling or dissolving and then instantly reforming in pristine condition, as per the guarantee.

When he could no longer form spellchains in his mind, when all he could see were the faces of his dead friends, when all he could feel was the horrible loss in his heart, when all he could wonder was which of his friends would die next and how gruesome it would be, he collapsed to the floor, no longer able to hold back the weeping.

"I'm sorry," he said to the visions. "I tried. I'm trying. I'll do better. I'll be better. I'll save you. I won't let you die."

"Harry." It was Draco's voice, but how could it be him? Draco was dead.

"I'm sorry, Draco. Please forgive me," Harry sobbed.

"Harry!"

"Draco!" he screamed, seeing only his best mate's cold empty eyes.

The slap in his face shocked him back to reality. His cheek stinging, his head reeling, Harry raised his wand to defend himself, but his head rocked back the other way as he was slapped again.

"Harry, snap out of it! You're dreaming, mate!"

The words made no sense at first, but then he realised it was Draco's voice. Draco's voice! If he could speak, then he wasn't dead!

"Draco!"

"Yes, Harry, I'm right here."

Harry blinked, trying to clear the fog from his brain. Slowly his best mate's face came into focus above him.

"You're okay!"

"I am, but you may not be." Draco's eyes narrowed. "I think Aunt Andromeda should take a look at you."

"I'm fine," Harry protested. "Just got a little too deep into disquieting thoughts."

"Let's call it for today," Draco suggested. "What do you say we have a dip in the hot water?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm okay."

"I'm not. I'm about done," Draco admitted. "We can soak with heat to relax, then have a swim in the pool for a refresh."

"Small problem," Theo interjected. "Number Twelve doesn't have a hot water tub, nor a swimming pool."

"Well, that's a vast oversight," Draco said. "Shall we go to my place, then?"

"I'm game. Harry?"

Harry shook his head again. "I don't want to try Apparating right now."

"Too tired?" Draco wondered. "That's something we might want to consider. If we get exhausted from fighting, will we be able to retreat if necessary?"

"Portkeys," Theo said shortly. "I can Side-Along you, Harry."

"You've got it?"

"Yeah, of course I've got it."

"If you Splinch me, I will never let you live it down."

Fortunately for Theo's reputation, he managed the deed perfectly and was quite smug about it. They were just in time for lunch, so their hot soak had to wait.

After lunch, they made their way to the hot tub and enjoyed the heat for about an hour. Harry's fingers and toes were wrinkled like raisins when he finally got out. He dried off and put on fresh clothes before he Apparated home. There was no time for a swim, since they were headed to Diagon Alley.

Sirius went first to make sure the coast was clear. Harry followed thirty seconds later, then Draco, then Theo.

Diagon Alley was bustling, as always, and the newest attraction was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The twins, Fred and George, had done extremely well for themselves selling through Zonko's and by owl order. The place was a riot of activity.

Outside of the potions supply store they encountered Neville Longbottom.

"Hello, Harry," he said cheerfully.

"Hello, Neville," Harry replied. "What's happening?"

"Not much. Just arranging to sell a few things from my greenhouses."

"Really?" Draco said. "Good on you, mate."

"Well, I took Professor Slughorn's lessons to heart last year. I don't have a lot of stock, but what I do have is of the finest quality."

"And you made a good sale?"

Neville nodded. "A tidy sum."

"Stellar," Harry said, pleased at his friend's success.

"Thank you," Neville said, sounding satisfied. "Congratulations on being named Head Boy, by the way. I didn't really have any doubts."

"Thanks," Harry said. "I don't really want it. I have enough to do as the duelling captain. I'm barely even a prefect anymore. How did you know?"

"I had a firecall with Macmillan and Goldstein. It wasn't them, so it had to be you."

"I'd love to know whose brilliant idea it was," Harry groused.

"It's just confirming what everybody already knows," Neville pointed out. "The only reason they didn't make you Head Boy last year is because you were only a sixth year. One doesn't have to be a prefect to get the gold badge, but there's never been a case where the Head Boy has not been a seventh year. I think you'll do great at it. Brilliant, even."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Neville offered his hand to Harry. "I didn't have a chance to say this at the end of last year. You killed one of my blood enemies. My gran taught me this makes a bond between us."

Draco nodded. "Mother taught me the same. If you weren't already friends, this would ensure it."

"Our Houses shall be friends until the day my memory holds no further sway. Your enemies are now my enemies." Neville grinned. "They already were, but now it's formal and far-reaching. We will hold seats in the Wizengamot in a few years, and, as friends, our Houses cannot oppose each other there. Support is not mandated, but the only other option is neutrality."

"I'm going to sit in the Wizengamot?" Harry said incredulously. "When was someone going to tell me?"

"All of the old families have seats. You would have been notified on your twentieth birthday."

"If I'm still alive," Harry said morosely.

"Cheerful."

"All of the political fallout after the war could be very interesting," Harry said speculatively. "If enough of those sorts of bonds are made, one House could push through some serious stuff and it couldn't be opposed."

Neville shook his head. "They would still need a majority, and votes of neutrality are considered toward it. If enough members vote neutral, then a motion could not pass."

"As fascinating as civics lessons are," Harry said, "we've got more to do and we have lingered in one place too long already. See you on the train, Neville."

"Sounds good. Enjoy the rest of the summer."

"You too."

Harry, Draco, and Theo continued on their way, purchasing all the things they needed to purchase. They were just about finished when there came a shout of recognition.

"Harry!"

Harry stiffened as a long unheard voice rang out to him. His whole body tensed, and his heart rate began to climb as adrenaline dumped into his bloodstream. He turned around and couldn't move.

He was as tall as ever, as broad as ever, charging towards him just as in his worst memories.

"Dudley," Harry whispered, unable to believe it, unable to understand how or why he was seeing his cousin now.

He hadn't seen any of the Dursleys since he had left Privet Drive four years ago. He had hexed them all and stormed out, swearing never to return. He had done his best to avoid thinking about them ever since.

"Dudley," he whispered again.

He broke out into a cold sweat. His hands flashed to his wand. In a heartbeat it was out and levelled directly at Dudley's head. All he could hear was Uncle Vernon roaring at him for some bit of accidental magic. All he could see were the stars from when Aunt Petunia had clocked him upside the head with this or that kitchen utensil. All he could feel was the thud and thump of Dudley's fists and feet as they fell onto his flesh.

Dudley pulled up short, raising his hands in surrender. "Woah, woah, cousin! Whoa. Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I come in peace."

His hands were shaking so badly Harry was worried he would hit some bystander if he tried to cast a spell so he did the only thing he could think to do in a little part of his brain that jumped in maintaining sanity: stall. Constant vigilance!

"Are you really Dudley?"

Dudley's brow furrowed. "What sort of question is that? Of course I'm me and you are you. You're my cousin.

"Prove it," Harry said flatly.

Dudley thought for a moment. "Okay, prove that I am me. Okay, I can do that somehow I think. I, um, I don't have my wallet on me. My ID is in that. I sort of had to leave the house in a hurry."

"I'm not talking about ID, Dudley. How do I know you're really you and not someone else in disguise? You need to tell me something that only we would know."

Harry swallowed hard. If Death Eaters had gotten a hold of Dudley, he would have no protection against the mind arts. They would've dredged his memory for absolutely anything and everything they could've used, but what would they have ignored? Nothing about Harry's abuse. Nothing about anything painful or embarrassing that Voldemort would use to try to weaken Harry at a crucial moment. It would have to be something about Dudley, something so completely Muggle that Voldemort would have ignored it entirely. But what?

"Our first form teacher," he said suddenly. "She used to wear this awful perfume. I remember once you told me you kind of liked the way it smelled. I teased you about that and you chased me. I think that's the time I wound up on the roof. What did that perfume smell like?"

Dudley got a goofy grin. "You mean Miss de Rosa," he said dreamily. "Oh I fancied her tremendously. How could I ever forget the way she smelled like apple blossoms?"

There were a few people who might know the answer to that question, but there was no mistaking that either this was Dudley or the Death Eaters had really gone to a lot of trouble.

Harry grinned to himself. And if they had gone to all that trouble, it would be a terrible shame to let that effort go to waste. Constant vigilance! Is it really a trap if you know it's a trap? He decided to play along. He lowered his wand.

"What are you doing here, Dudley?"

Dudley spread his hands wide. "I didn't know what else to do. Some of your lot attacked the house. Mum made me run. She and Dad are in trouble, and I can't go to the police about this. I need your help."

"How did you get in here? Muggles aren't supposed to be able to see the Leaky Cauldron."

"I dunno. But I remembered you mentioned the place once, so I went looking for it. Took me a few days. They don't exactly take out an advert in the colour supplement, you know? Once I found the place, the barkeep assumed I was a firstie. He said I must have a touch of giant's blood in me. I didn't tell him otherwise. He let me through the wall. That was incredible! Can I take some video of that? Wow. Anyway, I've been waiting for you to come for about a week now. Thank God!"

Despite relatively progressive attitudes toward Muggle-borns, most of wizarding society held a dim view of inter-species relationships. Those with giant's blood were often pariahs, such as Hagrid. Tom never judged a child for things they could not control. He greeted every one with a welcoming smile, opened the wall to Diagon Alley, and directed them to important places. He was a friend to all, as a barkeep should be.

"Cute story," Harry said despite himself. "A week? How have you been surviving?"

"I get by. I told Tom I couldn't afford all my supplies and offered to work for a few weeks. He put me up, fed me, and gave me a bit of gold. I have to get back to the kitchen soon."

"Tom's a good soul," Harry agreed. He looked at Sirius, who was actively scanning the crowd for trouble. "What do you think?"

"Let's get him out of here. I think the experts at the Ministry should look him over."

"Agreed." Harry held out his hand. "I'm going to Side-Along Apparate you."

"Is that a sex position? I don't like blokes, Harry."

Harry could not help but snicker. That is definitely Dudley.

"It means we'll, um, teleport," he settled on, "to the Ministry of Magic. That's our government."

"Okay, Harry. If it means I can get some help for Mum and Dad."

Sirius looked at Draco and Theo. "Are you boys okay to get yourselves home?"

Draco nodded. "I think we were done. Anything else we need, we can order by owl."

Dudley took Harry's hand, and a wave of surreal sensation spread through him. Dudley is holding my hand, and I'm about to magic him into the Ministry. Can this day get any weirder?