Travel Log 7: Germany, Brocken

April 2000

"I think I want to return to travelling soon."

Theodore hummed, acknowledging he had heard Harry without looking up from the symbols he was drawing on the body. He held out his hand and Harry handed him another bowl with fresh ink.

"We haven't seen the Americas, yet."

"Have you satisfied your yearning for the simple ways of funeral preparations, then?"

"I will never tire of it and it's been soothing to do it again." Harry swept one last critical eye over the coffin he was carving into, then put away the chisel and reached for the cinnabar. "But I also want to see all the places on our list. I'm not ready to really, properly return home, yet. And we can't stay here forever."

"Some days, I wish we could."

"I know."

There was a pause.

"Are you finally going to confront Draco before we leave?"

Harry looked over and his eyes met Theodore's.

"You have been putting it off for too long already," Theodore continued. "I was actually expecting you to do it right after your conversation with the Dark Lord."

"Yeah, I – I was planning to." Harry sighed, putting down the cinnabar to rake his fingers through his hair. "But things with Draco are a bit more complicated."

"Why are you so reluctant to face him? You managed to confront the Dark Lord just fine."

"The conversation with Tom wasn't this personal."

That earned him an arched eyebrow.

"I'd argue that any conversation between you and the Dark Lord would be highly personal."

Harry shrugged. "It's different. He's dead. That part of my life is over and done with. But Draco … I don't know. I never – I closed the chapter of my life titled 'Lord Voldemort' and Tom isn't really him, anymore. Tom is … like an epilogue, sort of. But Draco is an ongoing chapter I put on hold, because I can't bear to even think about it."

Theodore laughed. It sounded sad. "I see you adopted Lynea's analogy." He put his brush down and moved away from the body on the table to go and wash his hands.

Harry tilted his head back to watch him move over to the sink. "Do you miss her?"

"All the time," Theodore said quietly, his back turned, Harry almost didn't hear him. Then, louder, "So are you finally going to continue writing the chapter titled 'Draco' today?"

"I should, shouldn't I?" Harry sighed.

Theodore came over to gently run a hand through Harry's hair. Harry leaned into the touch. There was a huff from above him.

"You managed to get ink and cinnabar in your hair."

o

He forced himself to look at what he had done, really look at his creation and see.

If you didn't know any better and only used one of your senses, there was nothing out of the ordinary with how Draco looked – a bit more mature than he had been during his time at Hogwarts, but that was due to the way he held himself and not at all because of any physical maturity. There would never be any more physical maturity beyond the seventeen years Draco had almost reached when he had died. When Harry had killed him.

The eyes, of course, were what gave him away instantly.

And his magic.

And his entire personality.

Harry had met many Inferi but never anyone he had known in life. He knew in theory that the subdued, emotionless demeanour and lack of motivation for any independence was perfectly ordinary. But interacting with a servant he hadn't known before and interacting with a classmate he had known quite intimately – though in all the wrong ways – were two completely different things.

It was why Harry had put it off for so long, pretending there was nothing wrong, pretending this wasn't really Draco or perhaps Draco had always been that way or … They were all excuses. Harry had simply not been able to face the consequences of his mistakes.

And here he was, now, on their last day at Burg Elend, alone with Draco in the quarters they all shared, Theodore and Tom having been whisked away by Rhea to give Harry some space and privacy.

("I will take good care of them, promise!" Rhea had declared and Harry hadn't been able to stop the laugh that had escaped him when Tom had thrown him a look of utter betrayal.)

He took a breath. Exhaled. Breathed in again.

"I've been meaning to talk to you."

The being that had once been Draco Malfoy inclined his head in acknowledgement. He had taken a seat without prompting – something the Inferius Draco of three years ago – or even one and a half years ago when they had picked him up – wouldn't have done. Things had changed in the years since. It made this a little easier for Harry, but it was still hard.

Harry took yet another deep breath to centre himself and forced himself to meet Draco's calm, cold eyes.

"We need to figure out how to proceed in regards to your future."

There. That had come out steady, even if the words sounded a bit weird to Harry's ears.

"I am open to any plans you may have for me," Draco said, posture straight, hands folded neatly in his lap

The fact that his voice was void of any emotion and he seemed to have no opinion about the topic Harry had raised was nothing in the face of Draco having even replied without any prompting. But it was still jarring when compared to the Draco of old, who would have never allowed Harry to determine his fate like this. (Would have never followed him around the world like a silent shadow without complaint.)

"It is my understanding," Draco continued, startling Harry out of his musings, "that an Inferius, a personal one in particular, is meant to serve their master in any capacity they see fit. You have yet to make use of me aside from assisting in setting up camp."

Harry blinked. "Serving how?"

"How ever the master sees fit," Draco replied and Harry got the faint impression he might have been confused by the question.

"What do you want to do?"

Draco regarded him blankly. "I was created to serve."

Raking his fingers through his hair, Harry allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment.

"I killed you," he said, eventually, slowly, almost afraid to speak the words at all. "I murdered you."

"So you did."

"And then I turned you into – into this."

"It is my understanding that it was Sephoneia Totengräber who created me."

"But it is my fault."

"I do not understand."

Harry made a frustrated sound. "I am the reason you are like this now."

Draco gave him a slow blink. "But I gave my consent. How does that make it your responsibility?"

"Because I was the one who killed you, damnit!" Harry slammed his hands on the table between them, but Draco didn't even flinch. "If it weren't for me, you would still be alive! You were afraid of death the entire year and then I came and murdered you! You couldn't have known what it means to be turned into an Inferius – especially not a personal one. How can you sit there so calmly and not care at all?"

"I never wanted to die. This is better than death."

"Is it?" Harry asked quietly. "Because I don't think it's better than being dead."

There was a change, then. Before Harry fully realised what was happening, Draco had raised his chin, narrowed his eyes at Harry and said in an all too familiar drawl, "And how would you know that, Potter?"

Harry stared at him. "D– Don't do that."

Draco arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't do what? Act like myself?"

"Don't put on an act when it's not your true self."

"But don't you want me to express my free will? If I want to put on an act, why shouldn't I, Potter?"

Harry grimaced. "Do you, really?"

"You tell me."

"I don't know, Draco. I don't know what you want."

"Then don't presume to tell me what I should and should not do or think or want unless you want to actually commit to the reality that I am your Inferius and you should use me as such."

"I don't want to use you! I never wanted any of this for you."

"Then set me free."

"That would mean your – it would be the end of your current existence."

"I am already dead."

"I thought you preferred this."

"Do I? What do I really want, Potter? What in all of this is my will and what is yours?"

Harry paused, the answer dying in his throat. He looked at Draco, taking in the way he had slowly reverted to his impassive body language and took notice of how his voice had gradually lost any colour during their argument. Gone was the illusion of the old Draco and back was the Inferius Harry had never wanted to deal with.

"You didn't want to die," he said slowly. "You only wanted to keep your family safe. You gave your permission to be turned into an Inferius and you – No. I don't know whether tethering you to me was truly your choice. Because you were already like this at the time. Worse, even."

"You have never given me a single command, Harry."

"And Rhea?"

"Antheraea and Lynea both only ever told me to act like my old self and ensure no one would grow suspicious."

"Right. I – I have no need for a servant. Or even an assistant."

"Perhaps not right now, but you might find a use for me later."

"Maybe. And in the meantime?"

"I do not see any issue in carrying on as we have done so far."

Harry sighed.

He had nothing to say in reply.

o

Theodore asked him about it, later, when they were lying side by side in bed, curtains drawn, Harry's face cradled between Theodore's hands.

Harry didn't know what to tell Theodore. Nothing had really changed between him and Draco.

"Perhaps not from an outside perspective," Theodore said quietly. "But wasn't the purpose of your conversation for you to make peace with the situation?"

"I suppose."

Harry closed his eyes, relishing the soft touch of Theodore's thumbs gently swiping over his cheeks.

"He was neither the first nor the last life I took, yet his death still haunts me to this day."

"That is the price of a life."

"I know. I know it's a good thing that I am still capable of feeling the weight of it – that I haven't grown numb to taking a life." Harry opened his eyes again, meeting Theodore's steady gaze. "But that doesn't make it easier. I don't know what the right thing to do is in this situation."

"Anyone in this entire fortress will tell you that it is your prerogative to do with your own Inferius as you see fit."

"Aren't we supposed to serve the dead and not the other way around?"

Theodore shrugged one shoulder. "Inferi are a complicated matter. You would know this better than me, having had a hand in Draco's making."

"I didn't create him. That was all Sephoneia. I watched her do it just like you did."

Neither of them had ever created an Inferius from start to finish. There hadn't been enough time during their lessons with Sephoneia in their sixth year and after – well, those lessons had been focused on entirely different matters.

"But you recreated him into your own," Theodore said and that –

That was true.

It had been confusing and odd and Rhea had told him it would have been easier had Harry created the Inferius himself from the beginning, but there was nothing they could have done about that.

Harry turned his head to look at the dark roof of the canopy, dislodging Theodore's hands from his face. "Do you think all of this wouldn't be so hard had I been the one to make him? That I would be able to understand it better?"

"I don't know," Theodore replied quietly. "I would like to say yes, but … You have always had a rather unique relationship with Death. There is no way for us to say for sure, now."

Harry sighed, closed his eyes and then turned to bury his face in Theodore's shoulder.

He would simply have to learn to accept the situation as it was.

o

Burg Elend painted an entirely different picture in spring than it had when they had arrived in late winter. Harry still remembered being in awe of Hogwarts Castle every year he returned to it. Burg Elend had a similar charm to it, but an entirely different atmosphere. It was the magic, mostly, but also the difference in architecture and the surrounding lands.

Either way, in Harry's humble opinion, a magic castle was a magic castle and magic castles would never not be breathtakingly impressive.

Their send-off consisted of exactly two people and a Grim – Sephoneia with Inpu at her side and Proserpina. Rhea had already returned to Britain the day before.

"You are welcome here anytime," Sephoneia told them. "Be it to learn or to rest."

"Thank you," Harry said. "And thank you for letting us stay and for – everything, really."

"We appreciate it," Theodore added.

Sephoneia gave them a sharp smile. "Of course you do. See that you don't forget any of the lessons you learned."

"It was lovely having you," Proserpina said with a small bow. "May your journey continue to be fruitful."

And then they were off – Harry and Theodore and Draco and Tom – continuing their travels around the world.

AN

Merlin, this was the hardest chapter to write by far. My Lémures are too used to the way Inferi differ from their living counterparts, I never had to explicitly put them in a situation quite like this in previous stories.