If one thing was clear, then it was the danger that laid ahead. But for some peculiar reason, also among wizards existed people to whom such were irresistibly attractive. Wands ready and the ring back on Draco’s left middle finger, nothing could deter them from approaching the ruin. At a closer look, the plaster was crumbling off the façade and bricks were bared everywhere. The windows looked even worse now and the only entrance, a high wooden door above a number of marble stairs like at the front of the main manor, looked rather brittle. Altogether it could be said that the ramshackle building was lucky to still be standing.
“Are you absolutely certain you don’t want a pond anymore?”, moaned Harry, not sure whether the door was supporting the thick tendril that had grown over it and its surrounding like an enormous locking bolt, or the other way round.
“I’d say, we try to get rid of that thing there and enter.”
Removing the wooden serpent was far more complicated than they had expected. Though old and presumably dead, the plant turned out to be very much alive and absolutely averse to magic. Draco’s Severing Charm was inefficacious, so was Harry’s. Both tried again verbally, but only the bark cracked open, before repairing itself with a gnarling sound. Several more attempts lead to the same result.
“Reducto!”, Harry yelled angrily – and was forced to cast a shield within a split second when the tendril tore itself from the building with a tremor and banged into their direction.
“Whow!”, Draco gasped, having leapt back and stared at Harry once the plant had slowly taken in its former position. “Nice shield! And hit too!”, the bark was actually smouldering and didn’t repair anymore.
“I could have gone for worse, but I don’t think the house can stand it. Step back. I have an idea.”
Standing at reasonable distance now, Harry carefully aimed for the growing carnivore. Draco looked slightly nervous, but without losing focus, he shortly patted at his upper arm, relaxing him notably.
“Okay. The door might be locked. I’ll blast that thing off again and try to freeze it. If it works, we’ll run over and you try to open the door while I keep an eye on the freak. Once you’re inside, I want you to cast a shield instantly. We don’t know what’ll wait for us there and I don’t want us to be on the front page of the Prophet tomorrow.”, Draco nodded approvingly. “Alright. On my count. One – two – three – Reducto!”, there was an even louder bang and it blasted off again, missing them by a few inches. “Immobulus!”, Harry screamed then and it stayed in its swinging position, yet obviously fighting the bond. “Run!”
Their lives were indeed depending on their speed and they darted for the door. Right when they reached it, the plant managed to break the spell and zoomed at them. Harry produced another shield, giving them some time as Draco had problems unlocking the door with incantations Harry had never heard before, after the standard spells had had no effects. Click. Draco pushed the door, but something blocked it. The second wouldn’t give in either. Harry became panicking.
“Come on!”, he grunted, the shield wobbling curiously with every smack. “It can’t be – that difficult!”
“I can’t do more than try, okay?”, Draco hissed.
“Then hurry! It’s starting to – feel like I’m – getting hit too!”
Draco stepped back and kicked the door as hard as he could. The structure was so weakened that the hinges and parts of the frame were torn from the bricks and the door fell inside, coming to lie like a seesaw. A shield ready then, Draco jumped in and Harry after him just when he couldn’t have held his own any longer. The tendril slowed down, but hooked itself to the window frame where it had rested, blocking the doorway in a manner it would be almost impossible for them to get back out there without being strangled. Slowly the creaking silence flooded the whole scenery when they began to focus on their new surrounding.
Scarce silvery light fell through the few dusty windows at their right in the rather large two-storey high hall and a hole in the roof, under which snow had formed a pillow over rubble on the marble floor. All of the floor was glistening from tiny dusty shards and a more thorough look up made it clear that the ceiling as well as large portions of the walls must have once been covered with mirrors. Like in the main manor, there was a broad staircase to the right and a double door to the left. Though instead of the fireplace ahead, was another broad door that seemed almost intact. However, there was a big tiled stove in the left corner in front of them. They decided to dedicate to the other door first. It had several holes and hung askew. The plant had destroyed it and had grown across the floor too. Careful not to step on it or any mirror shards and convinced that nothing would come down on them, they stalked the door. Being about two inches taller, Draco could take a peek inside past one of the twines.
“I think it’s been some sort of cold greenhouse. The walls are tiled and there are tubs everywhere. Water pipes, but some of them broke. There’s a new leak further in the back. It’s iced. Most of the troughs are empty, and that plant has swallowed pretty much everything in here. I can see where it had started to grow. It must have grown too big once it hadn’t been cut anymore and sought a new source of water. Found it in a sewer on the floor. A lot of windows ahead, but they’ve had it too, unless we can get rid of that monster. I can see the wall down the end of the room. No door there. If there’s one I can’t see, we might find it through that over there.”, he blindly pointed on the second in the hall and cautiously stepped back. “Not much in there of interest for now. Not as long as the plant’s still there.”
“Right. we’ll try that one then.”, Harry nodded and they went over.
“Any idea what that plant might be?”
“Might be some relative of the Devil’s Snare, dunno. But maybe Neville knows. If not, Hermione perhaps. There’s still a chance that a professional from the Ministry might have a clue.”, they laughed and Harry tried to push down the handle. “Great. It’s open – oh. Just like I thought.”
It was a high square room, approximately sixteen feet in diameter and to their left, a broad spiral staircase made of now partly rusted iron wound itself upwards. They could spot a sort of trapdoor to an attic area. Dark wallpaper was coming off the walls above broken shelves and almost all once gilded iron lamps around too, broken candles everywhere on formerly flat noble parquet. In the middle, on a dark carpet that was almost twice as thick from the dust, stood a large round table on which rolls and rolls of withered and dusty parchment laid like everywhere along the walls where they had fallen out of their broken storage, all writing having faded. To the right, was one more door.
“That’d be the observatory then. But I don’t think we should go up there yet. I don’t like the condition these stairs are in.”, Harry meant. “Let’s go on.”
The room they entered now had its walls and floor covered in white tiles like the interior greenhouse, but there were no plants growing and the windows were not only dusty, but made of alabaster glass. It was not much bigger than the tower room and held a small shallow pool in the middle. The little rest of the water was stagnant and reeked slightly, but wasn’t frozen. It was also slightly warmer in that room than in the lobby, maybe due to none of the windows being broken. Nevertheless dust and dead, long ago dried cockroaches covered the floor. In a corner were some shower cabins, the once delicate curtains partly on the floor too. Wondering what they would find next, they went for another door, to the left.
Cold hit their faces again. A wide part of the roof had come down and landed in – a huge, assumingly deep pool that took in almost all of the rectangular room. Its surface level had sank six feet below the edge and was frozen. The fall of the roof had also caused one of the two gigantic crystal chandeliers to follow. The shape of the pool itself reminded of a wound, winged serpent, with islands that must have held plants and in each wing a now broken fountain rose. Marble half pillars and rich stucco decorated the high walls. The free areas were embellished with realistic landscape paintings, but most colours were long gone and their former intensity could only be guessed. The second floor was a u-shaped gallery with some of the drapes still hanging on the banisters and below big golden lamps on the supporting pillars. They too looked almost as miserable as those in the study before.
Natural light came in through the wall to their right. It was lined with big high windows, but half of them had shattered when the roof had given in. Each of them held a glass door to the rest of the meadow outside, that now wasn’t plain anymore, but home to a number of seemingly wild growing oaks. Though either of them knew they must have been planted inside the high border walls of the premise.
“You still want a pond?”, Harry chuckled like many minutes ago and bore being pushed aside.
“Honestly. Grow up.”
“What was that with the tightly stuffed cushion again?”, Harry grinned.
“Shut up.”, grumbled Draco. “I want to know what’s upstairs. Come on.”
Much quicker, they went back to the lobby and up the broad marble staircase that led into an open room with ornamental wooden floor above the bath, the windows up there intact as well and overlooking the woods behind the fringe wall. Most of delicate curtains and drapings on the inside wall had come down and were as moth eaten as the uncountable accumulations of elaborately crafted cushions and ottomans taking away the view large portions of the floor boarding. Tarnished candle stands here and there in between, some had fallen over. As the coffered ceiling was made of ebony wood, their soot was barely visible behind spider webs.
While Draco studied the peculiar chattels as they crossed the hall, Harry couldn’t miss the large portraits at their left, on the inside wall. Frowning at almost every he walked on wordless, not deigning to point out the moving nudes of chipping paint. The chips changing position on the canvases stunned Harry more than the reason anyway.
At the hall’s its end, they could enter the gallery. More big canvases hung at the long wall and they passed golden framed still-life after golden framed still-life against wooden panelling, their paint in even worse condition as the previous, placed between more half pillars and golden lamps that hadn’t burnt in ages. Above the greenhouse, behind another double door, they found a sort of sitting room with dusty bookshelves of dark wood, old black settees with golden ornaments and of course, the upper part of the tiled stove. Strangely untouched by the plant that had come through some of the windows in here as well and crawled over the parquet floor which had indeed suffered from that, a black grand piano and a big harp stood at the end of the light room
Almost simultaneously they approached the instruments. Nearly all strings of the harp had snapped and thick dust made the piano more grey than black. Its varnish was peeling off like the wallpaper below the observatory. Harry felt kind of sorry for it and, in the corner of his eye, saw Draco being the same. He opened the lid and found the black and white keys of ivory and ebony reversed. Images though flashed before his eyes. Blood being wiped off shining keys. As shining as the tears had been, coming from eyes so dark they could have been carved from the very same ebony tree as the keys that lay before Harry’s.
Hesitantly, his hand moved towards them and he pressed one. The sound was as if it might have been played on the previous evening. Clear and full. He pressed it again and played two more upwards, very slow. Did it another time, then the last two once more. Though never having played a piano before, it was as if his fingers knew what to do. He played along the memory, with one hand first. Then with the other, deeper, trying to get the same melody at the same time. It wasn’t enough. He tried a chord with his left hand. The piano didn’t even sound much out of tune. He tried another. A third, a fourth. He had no idea what he was doing, but he pressed the keys he could remember having seen and sought for the others, comparing them to the song. Surprised himself, it only took him about a minute. With a deep breath, he sat down on the dusty, black cushioned double-stool and played, still slow, but he played the song, despite his glasses seemed to have received a shower, despite Draco breathing through his hand, crying like him. When he didn’t know further, Harry stopped.
“He – he played that – ”, Draco gargled. “I heard him play it – in his room once – ”
“Thought so. That’s a song he wrote for my mother.”
“Is – is it?”, blinking heavily, Harry turned his head up to him.
“Didn’t Hermione let you watch the – oh – you came straight in, right.”, Draco nodded flatly.
“You never let me either.”
“Well, I better shouldn’t show you then. You wouldn’t see much of it anyway, if you cry already from that song.”
“Perhaps,”, chuckled the blond and wiped off some tears. “I had no idea you play piano.”
“I don’t.”, Harry considered. “It’s been the first time.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. But Hermione does. I think, I should ask her for some lessons.”
“No chance. I already asked her. She’s too busy with her Thesis.”
“But she can’t go to school forever, can she? What’s she writing about anyway? She didn’t say – ”
“First she wanted to do it about death, then she meant she’d combine it with Ancient Runes and already started translating a book. But she was totally upset about herself.”
“Oh yes. I remember. She was really furious when I mentioned Dumbledore again after she’s slammed our door at Hallowe’en.”
“She meant she’d let him rest for a while, dunno. Picked up that S.P.E.W. thing again. I guess she really wants to get into the Ministry.”
“Ginevra said something like that too. She’s driving her mad with comparing Houseelves and Goblins and she already had an interview for that department before they told her that she’d need some NEWTs. Ginevra thinks she’s after Cresswell’s old job. Well, Mockridge came back after Cresswell’s death, but he’d rather stayed retired. There are already jokes going around in the departments.”
“Jokes?”
“Things like – well, `That mock-rich is actually broke´. Some really believe he does it for the money. Others say he’s too proud to let anyone else deal with Goblins. Cresswell’s been really good from what I got to hear from the Order. People even claim to know Mockridge’s part Goblin. You know, he’s rather small, has dark eyes – maybe he is, who knows. I say he just worked with them for too long and acquired their attitude over the years. We’ll see where she goes. Whether it’d be Goblins or Houseelves – as long as she doesn’t knit more than Molly or initiates another Goblin war by wanting to knit for them too, I don’t care.”
“Oh gosh – just imagine – all goblins at Gringotts wearing woollen hats – ”
“They’d rather kill her before they’d wear such, I think.”, Harry chuckled. “Hopefully she’s clever enough to figure that.”
“Hope so too,”, Draco smirked and sat down as well – and startled. “What the – ?”, both heads zoomed up at the muffled rumbling, some dust fluttering down on Harry.
“Sounds like there’s a Ghoul in the attic.”, Harry meant and took off his glasses for cleaning. “Let’s hope, he doesn’t crash down on our heads. Er – thanks.”, Draco had brushed the dust from his hair.
“Wait. There’s more on your face.”
“Then they’ll believe us that we’ve been in a damaged old wrack of a house.”
“It looks like you cried clay.”, he wiped some of it off, smearing it. “Damn. Now it looks worse.”
“Who cares. I’ll wash it off with some snow outs– ”
“I care.”, Draco cut him quietly and continued, ignoring the stare.
“Done?”
“No. There’s still some on your shoulder – ”, he gently patted it off; rumbling and dust fell again.
“And on the other,”, Harry sighed boredly.
“Yes.”, snickered Draco but brushed that off as well. “And your nose.”
“Give it a bone.”, smirked Harry.
Though Draco peered at the dust he kept wiping away, ignoring that it was gone already, slightly steaming Harry’s glasses with his breath, at first. More dust rained on either head now with another rumbling, but it sounded like many miles away. The room was miles away. The piano was. There was only different shades of dark grey between eyes and lids, and a little lower, nothing in between anymore. Nothing but warm breath circulating. The caring hand had slid down on another where hesitant fingers caught it, somewhat hanging on two thighs, each belonging to one of them.
They had no knowledge of time, other than that at some point, the hands were back up, joining their siblings’ motions, until every move became slower and slower and faded, stopping at last in an embarrassing silence. Outside the dirty windows, snow was falling from the sky, much colder, much brighter than the dust the Ghoul had decorated them with. Lids blinked, lifting as slow. Distance was back – and entirely fresh air to each of their lungs.
“We – ”, Harry whispered, still in a trance, “We’d better go.”, the answer was a limp nod and they closed the lid of the piano together.
Exchanging not a single word on their way, they went downstairs and left the ruin through one of the glass doors at the back. Dusk was crawling up in the east, behind the silvery-grey clouds and snow mingled with the dust in their hair as they trenched their tracks through the untouched blanket of long, ochre grass and then bright snow only, past an oak. By that tree, Draco had already wrapped his arms around himself, shivering from the temperature and Harry quietly threw half of his wide, black winter cloak over him again, holding it down at his shoulder.
Having walked it too many times, Draco brought them quickly through the maze, along the front of the main manor and down the path between the high hedges. One wing of the high iron gate still stood open, and once they had passed it, it closed behind without being touched. With only a very quiet pop, Harry Apparated them back to the border of the Fidelius Charm that was still cast over The Burrow and its surrounding. Granted access automatically, they stepped over, towards the source of different smells.
Some of it was definitely supper and they were brutally reminded by their stomachs that neither contained lunch. The other was cigarette smoke. Wrapped in thick cloaks, the sisters stood by the closed door to the kitchen, enthusiastically venting on the third sister that had been swept out of the way to everyone’s relief.
“I would have let her locked in there forever, but no, you had to open the chest.”, Narcissa sighed. “What use was that Silencing Charm when she banged the lid with everything she could move.”
“If I had known it was Bella and not you, I wouldn’t have paid attention, you know that. You had better stayed where I could see you.”
“Well, I couldn’t risk being caught by Father. He would have accused me immediately, even though I had made sure that Bella hadn’t seen who had thrown her in.”
“So you would have rather left me to his fists?”, Andromeda giggled.
“Why, yes, of course!”, sang Narcissa. “Because he knew you would hit back as hard as he’d hit you,”
“That is right.”, they both laughed brightly. “Oh my – they’re back – ”
“Where have you been so long?”, Draco’s mother moaned. “That is our fifth since lunch!”, she brandished with her cigarette.
“The only chance to flee from her wailing.”, said Andromeda. “Ginny was close to tying her onto the kitchen table with a dishtowel in the mouth. At least that was what she yelled at her as a consequence if she wouldn’t shut up. I am used to much, but if my daughter had said that to me – beware, Harry. You plan marrying this thing. She has got even more of a Veela than Phlegm – oh pardon, Fleur.”, that even cost Draco a grin, but Harry’s was bigger.
“You might not believe it, but I know. Seems to be some family knack in mine; we’re all sort of a mix of Harpies and Red Caps that fall for the same. Guess that’s why I love her. Though I’m still waiting for either of us to grow wings, actually.”
“And what have you been doing?”, Narcissa asked again. “Is that dust?”
“Oh – yes.”, Draco meant, a little absent minded. “A Ghoul powdered us.”
“Ghoul?”
“We’d better tell you at supper.”
~~#~~
“All in all this sounds like a whole lot of expensive, dangerous work.”, Arthur advanced his opinion.
“We’ll see.”, Draco meant, having eaten his last spoonful of stew. “I’ll order inspection and an estimate. By then the Goblins should be done with appraising, I think. But I want it to be done as fast as it’s possible without any risks. Considering how quickly Hogwarts was restored by teachers, I’m positive that specialists will have it done in no time.”
“There’s going to be a party, by the way. Slughorn’s sent out invitations to all of us. Here’re yours.”, Neville got up to get them from a shelf.
“`Revolution Revival´.”, Harry ostentatiously read the header. “In the Room of Requirement. Slytherin- and Death-Eater-free zone, teachers excepted? What? Dress code – everything considered legal and not too frightening or too less?”
“Same as last year, but yes.”, Neville explained. “Anthony Goldstein turned up in a pink bikini of his sister and a golden feather boa. Was great fun, though I think, Slughorn wasn’t too fond.”, Draco spluttered some milk on his apple pie.
“That’s not what I saw,”
“Yeah.”, Ginevra confirmed, handing him her unused napkin.
“Thanks.”
“Those stares of his were far from disgusted, if you ask me.”, she snickered.
“Anyway,”, Neville carried on, “I hope they’ll have that amazing clock again. Banged loudly and shot cold fireworks at midnight. The entire room was a sparkling madness. You’d been blown away, Luna, literally.”, he nodded to her. “We really missed you there.”
“Oh I had my own firework at Christmas already,”, she smiled. “It was quite fun. Unfortunately those Death Eaters didn’t seem to like it much.”
“I don’t know.”, Harry pondered.
“What don’t you know?”, Ron chuckled.
“Whether I’d go there.”
“You said that about the presentation too.”
“Well, I wasn’t there,”
“But you really raided the buffet,”
“And that means something, if he says it.”, Hermione noted.
“Hey! I didn’t – ”
“And how you did, Ron. Twelve sandwiches and three times refilling that bowl of salad with chicken you didn’t let go. No. Of course that wasn’t much.”
“I’m an Auror! That’s exhausting work!”
“Sure. As if playing chess had ever been exhausting. Don’t deny, Ronald. Harry’s told me everything.”
“Now that’s not fair, mate,”
“Sorry.”, Harry sang. “Still I don’t think I’ll – ”
“You have to go, Harry.”, Hermione pestered him now.
“Not really. It doesn’t say anything about obligations here – ”, he eyed the flier.
“Don’t get childish now. Of course Slughorn wants you to be there. I mean, we all want you to be there, not?”, she shortly glanced around.
“She’s right.”, Ron said. “You’re the man, Harry. If you don’t go there, everyone’s angry with you. The entire world. Do yourself a favour and have some fun.”
“See, even Ron agrees with me.”, Hermione went on.
“Hey!”
“Don’t lock yourself away from people, you hear me? I’m sure, Ginny doesn’t want to marry a phantom.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Harry frowned.
“Get social, honestly.”
“But I am social. After all I’m sitting here with – twelve people and a baby? Oh no – if we don’t count Teddy as a person yet, I might be killed if I leave the table first.”
“Keep Trelawney out of that, will you?”, grunted Hermione. “I’m serious.”
“No, you’re Hermione.”, he said so quickly and casually that half of them didn’t even catch immediately why the other half laughed.
“That is not funny.”, she mumbled almost unheard, though couldn’t help smirking at her empty plate either. “I just don’t want you to end up slaying criminals.”
“You shouldn’t be so obsessed with that, Hermione.”, Luna said, keeping up the laughter, but not only Hermione knew what she had meant with that.
~~#~~
“What the heck is he doing in there?”
“No idea. All I know is that I’m dying to go to the loo.”, Ginevra grunted. “Draco!”, she hammered at the door. “Get your buttocks moving or I’ll bomb you out!”
“Give me a minute please – ”, his voice could be heard behind the locked door.
“There’ll be a grand yellow lake on the landing in a minute, you fashion horse!”
“Second – ”
“Second’s over!”
“Two more – ”
“I have my wand pointed at the door!”, she really had now, making Harry and Ron stumble a few stairs down in panic. “On three you’re out! One!”, the lock clicked and the door was torn open from inside.
“Easy, Umbridge.”, Draco chuckled, the moment he had noticed her fluttery dress to be soft pink.
“Out of the way, Myrtle.”, she puffed and rushed in, her dress becoming light green at a tap of her wand before she slammed the door shut with a flick once he was out.
“Whow!”
Ron’s eyes were as big as Harry’s when they saw the result of what he had done in the bathroom. Parts of his freshly washed hair that fell past his shoulders, were woven back with braids thinner than most wands, in a crisscross pattern over the loosely falling rest and only the shorter hair at the front framed his face in a floating side parting. He had put on the high buttoned white robe with silver embroidery which he had worn at the Start-of-Term Feast, though without the cloak.
“You’re sure that’ll survive?”, Ron gave an amused snort, his simple beige suit being studied likewise. “I mean, Harry does wear a robe,”, it was of a very dark and decorated purple with elegant black buttons and almost reached his ankles, “But he’s got his hair normal. It’s a party. You know what that means?”
“I have my hair `normal´ because it’s nearly impossible to do anything with it but letting it do what it wants.”
“So you say, if it wasn’t crazy, you’d have it something like that?”, Ron brandished, nearly poking Draco’s eye.
“That, wasn’t easy, if you’re interested. Gluing the ends of braids in a way you’ll get them loose again is horror. Mum can tell you quite a number of stories about that.”, grunted Draco.
“And you’re blessed with miraculously great hair, Ron.”, Harry noted. “Don’t forget that.”, the door opened again behind Draco.
“Are the sissies done out here? A lady wants to return to her room as her toes are getting cold.”
“Well of course, Madam.”, Draco dropped a courtesy and squeezed himself to the wall.
“I’m not married yet, Anthony.”
“And I am not gay,”
“Nor is he. Still you’d make the best lesbian couple in the world.”, Ginevra sang and they heard her bang the door of her room.
“Stop acting as if this house was a fortress!”, her mother yelled from upstairs and slammed a door herself.
“At least there’s proof where she’s got her temper from.”, Draco meant. “Er, Harry, I’d like to have a word with you.”
“I’m not the one who’s spreading rumours about you being gay,”
“And I’ll hate Luna forever for that tricky comment, you know that. But I’d like to get something straight before the year’s over.”
“What. Yourself?”, Ron grinned.
“I’ll get something askew if you don’t shut away those tempting rows immediately,”
“Just try.”
“You’d be surprised how much I learned from my father. Bellatrix had been among the selected blessed ones.”
“And I guess, you count my nose too.”, Harry considered.
“Yeah. That one too. But it’s been the only nose.”
“Not that there’s been much nose present in your standard company, has there?”, chuckled Ron.
“Drop it, okay? Harry – ”
“What’s it about?”, Harry asked.
“Er – the Ghoul.”
“Why would you want to discuss our Ghoul with him? So urgently?”
“Not the Ghoul you think, Ron. My room? Your room? The barn?”
“Rather the battlefield.”, Draco smirked. “Hannah’s still dressing too, I think.”
Leaving Ron by the bathroom before he could fling more remarks, they hurried one floor up and locked the door behind. Draco lit both lamps with a quick snap of his wand while Harry saw to their privacy.
“I still can’t believe that Ginny tolerates that. Hannah wouldn’t let me sleep with such photos on the wall.”
“You wouldn’t let yourself either.”
“Perhaps.”, Draco strolled over to the big pencil scratching and its translation. “Those names and dates are simply transcribed?”
“Yes.”
“But – that line – it’s – I’m not that good at deciphering runes or anything alike, but it’s not English.”
“No. That is Gaelic.”
“And how did you get – ”
“Here.”, Harry got his copy of Hermione’s runes book and opened it for him at the right page. “She must have been to Godric’s Hollow at some point before Hallowe’en. That’s exactly what’s on the grave and she transcribed it into Gaelic first, then roughly translated it into English.”, Draco nodded on it.
“`Block the well´.”
“Now. We only have a couple of minutes. What did you want to discuss?”, when Harry let go of the book, it simply floated onto his desk and settled down; Draco slowly turned to him.
“That yesterday – ”, he curled his lips, “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”
“No. But I’ll tell Ginevra.”
“Alright.”, Draco took a deep breath and avoided his look. “And it’s Ginevra, for once. You’re the second one making that mistake, and that’s rich, considering that you’re – ”
“No, Ginevra.”
“If Molly does, she calls her Ginevra.”
“And she likes Ginevra better. If it interests you, she hates both her actual and her nickname. But she’s in love with that pronunciation, somehow.”
“Tz. And he knew it of course.”, Draco mumbled.
“He?”
“Never mind.”
“Okay, well, that’s not the point anyway. Listen. I love her, no matter what you or anyone else prefers to call her against her will. And I don’t really care what you feel for Hannah. That’s your business.”
“I love her too.”
“Well, great.”, Harry said serious. “Then everything’s clear. I won’t tell you what to do, though I’ll tell Ginevra what happened. It might hurt her, but I can’t live with hurting her more by not being honest. She has the right to know, even if it’s been a one-off.”
“Harry? Draco?”, Hermione’s voice was muffled by the door, but was clearly upset, which she emphasised with such fierce knocking, Harry feared she might demolish the poor wood. “I know you’re in there and I know you can hear me! What the heck are you doing! We’re leaving!”, she hammered another time and stomped downstairs.
“Damn! You two are dating the most gentle beings in the world! Guess, I’m really safe with Hannah.”
“Fine. Thanks for understanding. We’ll better go before the rush comes in pairs.”, huffed Harry and turned but was stopped by a hand on his right wrist. “What?”
“Er – I didn’t really have time to say – well – thanks for bearing me company there. It really meant the world to me.”, Draco aspirated. “Also if we hadn’t – you know what – ”
“No problem. It was nice, getting out. I’d already forgotten how much fun sneaking around and fleeing from monstrous plants can be. Thanks for making me realise.”
“Any time.”
Awkward shadows were painted on their faces by the two sources of light and for some moments either of them just studied the other’s face. Then Draco let go and took a step through between Harry and the desk, apparently meaning to head for the door first, but the wrist he had dropped was suddenly held against his left collarbone and a number of fingers laid on his shoulder, stopping him in place.
Just like Harry had predicted it, approximately two minutes later, Hermione was back, muttering and stomping, but this time she wasn’t alone. The demanding voice of her friend tore them apart with some unnecessary information.
“Whatever you try, Draco,”, Ginevra huffed, “You can’t weave Harry’s hair. It does that either on its own or not. Get out there and live with the fact that some things don’t want to be controlled. And Harry, Mum’s furious. If you don’t want to depend on secret meals from Kreacher for the next month, I suggest you get off the stick.”, Draco’s eyes gaped.
“That’s an idiom.”, Harry explained hastily. “I don’t reckon she meant what you’ve got on your mind – er – and – actually – ”, he blinked wildly at a certain lower point and finally managed to reach the door then, accompanied with some frustrated puffing of the blond. “You better not let anyone catch you trying to hide that. I swear, get caught and I can’t promise I’ll make up a story for what we’ve been doing in here.”
~~#~~
Desert heat, the stifling smell of too much perfume and sparkling pastel drapery as if a huge discoball had exploded in a babyshower. Christmas tinsel had been repurposed to decorate the parts of the walls that weren’t covered with fabric. In between, colour changing tinsel balls that only Luna seemed to really appreciate. The huge gramophone in a corner played boogie, but nobody had claimed the dancefloor yet. They were all busy emptying their glasses to compensate the temperature while chatting with classmates or staff. Greeted lively by the one or other Order member, Hermione had decided to avoid being seen by Slughorn, along with Ginny. Harry hadn’t been so lucky, but Ron stayed for his defence. With a last glance back, she could have sworn that Harry’s robe had been longer before they had entered the Room of Requirement.
The girls sat themselves with other girls from the DA at one of the tables along the walls, but Hermione didn’t feel much like talking. Especially when they started going on about unfair gameplay in the National Quidditch League. Ignoring everyone at her table she had her head turned to study the guests, until a voice from the other side made her startle so bad she could barely avoid a shriek and didn’t even notice her table had fallen silent.
“What?”, was all she could gargle, while Ginny greeted him with a casual –
“Hey.”, which was ignored though.
“I said, you seem to need a drink.”
The young man with full beard towering her looked somewhat familiar, but due to the noise around, Hermione hadn’t even recognised his voice either. Probably though because he seemed to have lost quite a bit of his accent since they had last met. What his chin had gained in hair, the rest of his head had lost. She had to confess, the short shave suited him somehow, but he looked much older and grumpier now. Still his humble smile was the same.
“Oh my gosh! Hi!”
She gasped and jumped up, making the table shake and the other girls giggle. But her golden high heels were no benefit, so Viktor had to save her from stumbling over by quickly flinging his right arm around her waist.
“Forgiff me. I did not mean to startle you.”
“Not at all!”, she breathed, her flat hands against his round shoulders.
“Can you stand?”
“I – I think so – ”
“Good.”
He let go, if though cautiously and waited for her to retrieve her hands as well. Hermione however was still too startled to move. Blinking heavily at his curious smirk that grew into an amused smile, she felt as if someone had doubled the heat in the room.
“Hello.”, Viktor chuckled with a grin.
“Hi.”, she aspirated, yet more definite now, just as if she had gotten hold of her situation the very moment. “Again. Uhm – drinks – right – let’s – let’s go – ”
As he lead her away from the table, she could barely hear Ginny tell the others to shut up. On their way he didn’t say a word though, but made sure he walked slow enough to allow her a secure step. Several guests turned after them, but he was used to ignore such. So after a while, she found herself at the bar opposite to the entrance.
“Vot vould you like?”
“What?”
“To drink.”
“Oh – sorry – I don’t even know what they serve.”
“The lady looks like she desperately needs an Ocky Rot. Look who’s here, Ron.”
“Huh?”, it required him to be turned around by Harry to abandon his Firewhisky, leaving Slughorn to continue the one-sided conversation alone without even noticing. “Bloody hell!”
“Bloody beard, rather.”, laughed Harry as he briefly hugged Viktor, looking like he regretted it upon the firm pat his back received.
“Sorry.”, Viktor mumbled, having noticed it.
“No worries. It’s just been a while since I won a match. Normally the hugs I get aren’t that firm, if it’s not Hagrid.”
“What’s Ocky Rot?”, Hermione wondered.
“Some red wine, according to the menu. So? How’s it going?”
“Going vell.”, Viktor shrugged. “Business is as usual, but there aren’t any matches now. You? I heard you still threat the evil guys?”
“Nah. Not as much as I should. Only that I get paid for it now. What I heard was that your lot’s beaten up Greece pretty badly in the Balkan Cup?”
“That vos a rough party. They beat us up alike.”
And again, although having gotten her glass of very fruity berry wine, she felt in the wrong place. From girls talking about Quidditch to boys talking about Quidditch. Was there ever any other topic for conversations? Even Slughorn’s soliloquies sounded more thrilling to her albeit not understanding much in light of the background noise.
“Very vell. You excuse iff I kidnap your girlfriend a little longer?”
“You ask me about that?”, chuckled Ron.
“You are still his girlfriend, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”, both panted.
“What if she wasn’t? Would you’ve not kidnapped her?”
“I vould have merely been disappointed, because I alvays knew you belong together.”
“Er – ”
“Hermione, I think, the table in that corner over there is more quiet.”
He pointed at a small free table at the very back corner, almost lying in shadows from the drapery. This time however he did offer his arm so she could support herself. That made it much easier to balance the glass over. Only when he put down his own glass to pull the chair back for her, she noticed that he had gotten the same drink. When he had done so, she must have missed. Thanking him, she sat down as he pushed the chair onto its former spot before he would sit down in a slight angle to her left so they wouldn’t need to raise their voices too much for understanding each other. Also their backs faced the room, which granted them a little more privacy from stares.
“Now tell me, Hermione.”, she gasped again, as it was probably the first time he had ever said her name completely correctly. “How are you.”
“I – I’m fine!”
“Are you?”
“What do you mean?”, he only shrugged.
“Sorry if I am making you nervous.”
“You’re not.”, she shook her head.
“Of course I am. But there is no need, really. In fact there is news that should calm Ronald as well. Nadezhda and I am going to marry.”
“What? Oh my god – that – that’s wonderful!”, Hermione beamed, finally with her thoughts where she should be. “Congrats!”
“Thank you. She would haff vanted you to attend it, but we could only get a date for her dream location during your NEWT week.”
“Wait – she wanted me to come to your wedding?”
“Yes. After all she has read all of your letters and insists you haff enouff in common to become friends.”
“Interesting.”, she wasn’t sure if she should be delighted about the compliment or frightened that her ex had shared their letters with his fianceé. “But it seems, it’s got its benefits that her mum’s from Birmingham. You’ve lost quite a bit of your accent.”
“Haff I?”
“Well, not all, but a lot, actually. And you’ve become more fluent.”
“Hm. That could be true. We often speak English at home to improve mine.”
“You’ve definitely made more progress than Fleur.”, he shared her laugh.
“Yes. I had a little chat with her earlyer and you might be right.”
“Why could you only book Nadehzda’s dream location during that week? One should think, you, being the celebrity you are, had better means?”
“Only if I vos unscrupulous. But we vant a quiet, small vedding, safe from journalists. Got to make compromises.”
“Certainly. So I guess, you’re just here to tell me that, in case your owl might be caught?”, that gave him pause.
“No.”, he blinked heavily. “But good thinking. No, that is only vhy I didn’t tell you in a letter. I’m here on Professor Slughorn’s invitation. You might know – ”
“That he likes to adorn him with fame, yes.”
“Yes. Though how could I refuse an official order to see my friends again?”
“Charming.”
“So how is your Thesis coming along?”
“Differently, since my last letter.”, Hermione puffed. “I could strangle McGonagall. I was a good quarter done when she told me I should stop philosophising about death or get myself a therapist. So I changed it to be about the history and enslavement of beings that are capable of our language.”
“Elves.”
“Yes. And Goblins, among others.”
“Still pleading for their rights, I see. Good choice.”
“Maybe. She might be right though. That’s things I can research. My biggest source for afterlife theories has left me.”
“I thought you are surrounded by ghosts here? I could svear I had seen Sir Nicolas talking to Miss Ravenclaw in a distant corner on my vay up here. And vat about Harry?”
“You’re right. But I was also meaning to analyse what loss does to the magical genome, how it influences suppression, possibly up to denial of any magical abilities or the other way, leading to overuse of magic.”
“And you think, Professor Snape vos your only valuable source in the matter?”
All she could do was stare at Viktor. Never had it occurred to her that he had listened to her so thoroughly, understood what was on her mind, her heart. Had she been honest to herself, she would have had to reconsider her congratulations. Apparently he wasn’t as short-minded as she used to think. But she knew she wouldn’t want a life with Viktor. Her heart had other priorities.
“Do you still carry Professor Karkaroff’s body with you?”
“What?”, Hermione startled from her thoughts again. “Uh – no – I – I buried him with his best friend.”
Of course that was a lie. There was no such grave she could have placed that single bone in and she still had hope she would meet Severus again one day, so she could leave that task to him. The thorough look Viktor gave her however, made her unsure whether he had believed her.
“A right choice. He vos a little lunatic, but probably because he had almost no friends to keep him on the ground. I still find it incredible that he managed to feign his death so vell as to fool Death Eaters. Also in regard of all the Dark Magic he has openly shown us, it is even more incredible that he fought for the good, in the end.”, Hermione nodded only. “Vot I don’t understand though is that serial killer Ronald and Harry haff to deal with. How can this person kill Death Eaters but support Grindelwald? Is it because they vere not consequent enouff with their ideology?”
“Oh no, no!”, she sang hectically. “These murders have nothing to do with Grindelwald!”
“How can you know?”, Viktor blinked hectically.
“Well, actually, I’m not supposed to talk about anything that goes on in the Auror Office. I’ve sworn a binding oath.”
“Then don’t?”, he sighed.
“But if it is my personal opinion, without revealing any secret information, I guess I’m fine.”
“If you say so,”
“I mean, it’s not that your question would require me to reveal any certain information. It’s just speculation. Very likely the truth, but not one hundred percent guaranteed.”
“Vot do you mean?”
“Well, if the person is behind it whom I think it is, these murders don’t have anything to do with Grindelwald.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The problem is, I can’t tell Harry or Ron, because I made a promise to not reveal to them that this person is still alive. Also I’m in no current contact with them, so I can’t just go and ask them. But if it is them,”
“And vot makes you think, they don’t support Grindelwald’s ideas? Help him back to power?”
“Well, as I said, I know the person. And how is Grindelwald supposed to get back to power? He’s dead! Yes, he is dead.”
“Vot?”, faltered Viktor.
“He is. Harry saw Voldemort kill him? Through Voldemort’s mind, but yes.”
“Vait – and you couldn’t tell me this earlier?”
“I – I – ”, she now remembered how he had threatened to duel Luna’s father at Bill’s and Fleur’s wedding because he had worn that pendant. “Sorry. I forgot you’d probably like to know.”
“Don’t vorry.”, he assured her with a sigh. “Better late than never, right?”
“Yes.”, Hermione swallowed hard. “But I assume you still remember how you accused Xenophilius Lovegood of supporting Grindelwald because of the jewellery he had worn at – ”
“I most certainly do.”
“That sign – Grindelwald only abused it for his own cause, like for example, the Nazis took a variation of the Swastika as their own. Are you familiar with the Tale of the Three Brothers by Beedle the Bard?”, he needed a moment to think; possibly, because he tried to translate it into Bulgarian so he knew what she meant.
“Yes, I think so. But if it is what I think it is, it has been a while.”
“No worries. I got it here. I’ll read it to you, then I tell you what I meant about the motives of this murderer.”
“Don’t you think it is a little too – loud – ”
Surprised, they both looked around and up as well. It didn’t appear as if anything had happened that would have caused the general chatting noise and the music to become quiet, almost silent.
“Did you just – ”
“No.”, Hermione giggled with fascination. “Okay, perhaps I did, but not consciously. It seems, the room heard me.”
“The room?”, Viktor blinked again, much more confused than before.
“This room is the Room of Requirement. It accustoms to people’s needs.”
“Does it?”
“Well, mostly. It doesn’t do everything, but quite a lot.”
“So say, I had a runny nose,”
“It would quite likely give you a tissue if you hadn’t one, yes.”
“Чудесен. Very vell. The story? Does this room also provide books?”
“It does sometimes. But I have it with me anyway.”
Her hand was already deep in her beaded bag, getting hold of the old script. Clearing her throat she opened it at the right page, instantly. Apparently she had read it so often already that the book’s binding was a little more stretched at the area – or she had only added up to the many times Dumbledore had read it.
Eager to not miss a detail, Viktor hung on her lips and she was glad the room had turned down the volume of noises around. Otherwise they might have needed to leave and she knew it would have taken them forever to get to another part of the castle that was heated at the moment. Of course they could have gone to the Gryffindor common room, but she hadn’t wanted to alert Ron. So she read, somewhat surprised that she didn’t know the story by heart yet. Every few lines her thoughts tried to drift off to Severus; how he had recited the story two years ago in that lonely tower, with similar intentions. How he had explained all the properties of the Hallows to her, their bloody history and how his assumptions as well as gruesome hopes regarding Voldemort’s motives had turned out to be correct. How well he had intervened in the events to make everything turn out the way it had.
Of course she had no full proof that Avenger was him, and Luna had tried to convince her often enough that he wasn’t who committed these murders. Though who else would, especially signing the crime scenes with that symbol, clearly as a message for both Harry and her? At some point she noticed that she must know at least major parts of the sentences, as she caught herself reading perfectly while thinking of all that. What she didn’t know however, that with this she had reached her current limit of ability to focus on multiple occurrences. One reason was clearly the reduced sound, but she wouldn’t be the only one to miss the verbal fight behind. It wasn’t loud enough to drown the music.
Only when she had already convinced Viktor of how clear it was that these murders happened in honour of the Peverell brothers and not Gellert Grindelwald, she would get to notice that something had not gone as desired. Someone’s evening had become worse. Much worse, indeed. Puffing like a mad ox, Ron suddenly had come out of nowhere, startling them both. With the force of a dropped sack of potatoes he fell onto the empty chair at Hermione’s right, leant back with his arms crossed.
“I didn’t do anything – ”, Viktor said quickly.
“Tz. Who said the world’s always spinning around you?”
“Who then?”, regardlessly, Hermione scrunched up her nose with indignation.
“Is it just me or is it – really quiet here?”, Ron frowned, eyes flicking between the two,
“I needed some quiet, so I could read him the Tale of the Three Brothers.”, and down onto the book between her arms on the table.
“Honestly?”
“Viktor asked why someone just happens to run around murdering Death Eaters and painting Grindelwald’s sign on their doors.”
“Wouldn’t be the first,”, her boyfriend chuckled grim.
“And no, I didn’t break any law.”, pouted Hermione.
“Didn’t say so,”
“But you thought it.”
“You’re not using Legilimency on me.”, she noticed it was a mere statement.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yeah. ’Cause if you did, you’d know I didn’t think that. I’m not Harry.”
“Where is he anyway?”
“Why?”, Ron grunted.
“Why? Last time I’ve seen him, he was with you, just saying.”, if he could be grumpy, so could she.
“Do I look like his Houseelf?”
“Ron,”
“You know he’s his own man, free to run after whoever he wants.”
“And whom did he run after?”
“Oh right, you might not have heard it. For some reason, Malfoy thought it funny to start a fight with Slughorn?”
“What?”, her heart plummeted with her gasp.
“Dunno what he was ranting on about. Didn’t hear it. But Slughorn looked really flustered. Then he became angry. And when he tried to calm Malfoy, the guy just went all disgusted and stormed off, right through a door the room created for him – and Harry ran after him.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“That’s it?”, she frowned.
“Well, if I’d been fast enough, I wouldn’t sit here, would I?”
“You think Harry would need your help dealing with him?”
“No – I – dunno.”, Ron sighed. “It’s just – ”
“Oh come on, Ron. I noticed too that Harry’s attitude towards him made an about-turn after the war. Or are you jealous that he spends time with him? Cares for him? It’s not like you are the one with mental health issues, is it?”
“Jealous?”, growled Ron, seriously upset. “Why would I be – ”
“I don’t know.”, she shook her head. “Just let Harry do his thing.”
“Let Harry do his thing?”
“I’m just saying, if he feels responsible for Draco’s welfare, let him. He needs some other thing on his mind than eviscerated – ”
“Okay, okay. I’d just appreciate it, if you let him do his thing too, regarding that.”
“Anyway, I think you’d like to hear the good news from Viktor. But don’t go blabbering.”
“Blabbering.”
“He doesn’t want any press to know yet.”
~~#~~
It seemed like four hours later, but he hoped they hadn’t missed the chime by those two hours. The door already materialised before them and Harry was about to push down the handle when he noticed that Draco had halted further behind. Dazed, he stared at some snowflakes that danced outside a window, illuminated by the pastel lampions in the corridor.
“Draco?”
“I – I’m not going back in there.”, he breathed, not taking his eyes off the window.
“Then why did you dress up in the first place?”
“I arrived, they saw me; should do.”, the fair huffed.
“I’m sure we can manage to avoid running into him again, even though it’s his party,”
“You go. I’m just gonna – ”
“Gonna what? Stay out here and freeze?”
“You know I got a shrunk winter cloak in my pocket,”
“Still.”
“I think, what Draco meant to say is that he would like to go down to the Black Lake and look at the snow glisten in the near full moon.”
Like so often, she had come out of nowhere, but as though they had expected her to, neither startled. What Harry wondered however was how she didn’t freeze in her short, tufty, sparkling dress.
“I’m wearing an invisible cloak, Harry. Not an invisibility cloak, an invisible cloak. It is very warming.”, she smiled her usual smile.
“Sounds about right.”, Harry only frowned. “But it’s snowing.”
“By the time we reach the lake, it will have stopped and the moon will be out.”
“If you say so,”
“Would you like to go down, Draco?”
“Yeah – that – that sounds like a good idea, yes.”
“I know you already wished each other a Happy New Year. So, Happy New Year, Harry.”
“How do you – ”
“No worries. I didn’t spy on you. I just saw it from Draco’s definite look that you have. Also otherwise he would have grunted it at you and left when you asked him to go back into the Room of Requirement.”
“Charming honesty, Luna.”, Harry only chuckled, “Happy New Year.”, and turned to enter.
“Oh and don’t worry about her.”
“Whom?”, he halted.
“And don’t be surprised if she comes to you with a peculiar offer.”
“What’re you – ”
But when he turned his head back, he only saw the swinging tapestry to the secret stairs. With a deflated chuckle he returned into the overheated room, just to instantly be stopped by a piercing pair of eyes before him. Just as if she had waited by the wall for the door to appear with him in it. There was hardly enough space for it to shut and vanish. What he had come to, he only realised when hearing people count down from – eight. As hazel coloured as her stunning eyes, she held some choc under his nose.
“What?”
“Eat that.”, she demanded at five. “No worries. It’s got only mint inside.”
“Why would I – ”, but she had already pressed it into his open mouth, forcing him to chew on it.
“Happy New Year.”, she said, just loud enough over the ear thrashing cheers and the loud banging of the huge clock in the middle of the room, shooting the most wondrous fireworks.
The only fireworks he cared for were those though that erupted inside him when she stole half of the chocolate and fresh mint back out with her tongue, binding him very voluntarily into that deep kiss with her hand in his chaotic but curiously soft mane and the noise seemed to drift away from them, encapsulated in their own privat cocoon, disregarded by everyone around.
“Happy New Year.”, he could barely breathe when she parted their lips only. “And thanks for the choc.”
“Oh that was quite selfish.”, Ginevra snickered into his ear, with an impish undertone that made him curious.
“Selfish?”
“Let’s go somewhere else. It’s far too crammed in here and there’s still a Christmas present I haven’t given you.”
“Will I like it?”
“I’ll know when I see the look on your face.”, her breath in his ear made him shiver, but in an exciting way. “Come on.”
Her naughty but childish smile when she dragged him back out through the door that had formed itself anew, made his insides coil with anticipation. Ginevra waited for the door to be gone and another to appear in its place. Surprised that this actually worked, he let himself be pulled into the round, golden chamber, the door almost instantly gone behind them.
“How – ”
“The room has learned some things, after people started to use it frequently.”
“Let me guess, Luna told you.”
“And if she has?”, dazzled, he only gazed at her while she unbuttoned his robe.
“What did you mean about selfishness again?”
“Oh you know,”, Ginevra meant casually, “I’m not really interested in knowing, ”, again she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, “What Draco tastes like.”
“What?”, Harry gasped, not only from the touch of her fingers against his chest.
“Yet.”
~~#~~