A Marauder's Christmas

Fifteen years on from defeating Voldemort and surviving Barty Crouch's magical bombing, Harry has a very definite plan for Christmas as Fate begins to swirl around Hogwarts' protectors.

Notes:

Author's Note: Happy New Year! I was inspired to write a short sequel to A Marauder's Plan. Unfortunately flu has derailed most of planned writing at the end of last year and even the publishing schedule on this. But here it is! You don't necessarily have to read A Marauder's Plan to read this, but it would probably help if you have read it. Previously posted on my writing site.

Content Warnings: Reference to Voldemort's attack on the Potters and a Death Eater attack on the Longbottoms. Reference to the Death Eaters' acts of terror including torture and murder. Reference to child death and grief. Reference to past child grooming and abuse.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

17^th December 2010

“Headmaster!”

Harry almost ignored the students’ call for a moment before the belated realisation that he was the Headmaster and the students were calling for him sunk in.

Harry stopped abruptly in the middle of the path back to the castle. He’d had a morning meeting with Hagrid out by the thestral pens to talk about Hagrid’s proposal to bring Norbert home. Harry had gently broken the refusal by the Board of Governors to the Professor for the Care for Magical Creatures.

Honestly, Harry was pleased that the Board had refused the proposal without him having to step in. He had hoped that his arguing with Hagrid about Norbert’s living situation had ended in his first year as a student; he could have done without revisiting it in his first year as Headmaster.

Thinking of those in their first year of schooling, Harry turned to the excited gaggle who had called out to him with a kind smile. He wasn’t surprised to see the first years out enjoying the snow before lunch. They had a free hour at that time and the whole school was in a festive mood since it was the last day before the Christmas break.

The red and gold scarves gave away the group as Gryffindors.

Harry smiled at the familiar beaming smile of a boy carrying a camera. Neville Creevey was the exact duplicate of his Dad, Colin. “Hi Neville, how can I help?”

“Could we get a photo with you and our snowman, Headmaster?” asked Neville brightly, red spots emerging on his cheeks.

“Please, Cousin Harry?” Celeste Lupin looked at him with wide brown puppy eyes.

Harry looked at the large snowman to the side of the path. All of the Gryffindors looked very pleased with themselves. There was a very large ball as the bottom, and a second for the torso. The head was very, very small in comparison, but it had two stones as eyes, a carrot nose, and a slightly scary twig smile. Looking at the group, Alan Turpin had been the one to sacrifice his scarf to the cause.

He nodded at the group and waved Neville over. He took control of the camera with his wand, directing it to take a group photo of all of them together.

“This is so awesome!” Neville chattered happily. “My Dad is going to be so jealous!”

Harry almost rolled his eyes as he waved the camera back into Neville’s hands.

He gave the Gryffindors a wave and resumed his walk back to the castle. He stopped briefly a bit further along to talk with a group of equally excited first year Slytherins who had decided to build a snow snake. None of them had a camera but he took the time to praise their efforts before continuing on his way.

He was almost back to the castle entrance when he came across a full-scale snow fight between the fourth years. He cast a shield as he walked through the flying snowballs, waving a hello to his grinning cousins Teddy and Leo as he went. The pair were as thick as thieves and as good as twins despite Teddy’s parents being Remus and Dora, and Leo’s being Simeon and Anna.

He shook his head as he got inside the warm castle, windlessly vanishing away the wet he brought in with him to save the house elves the job of cleaning up after him.

Argus Filch had retired five years before to a small cottage in the Highlands. Minerva, the Headmistress at the time, had decreed that they wouldn’t replace the position; the house elves were more than up to the task and very willing.

Harry hurried towards his quarters. Minerva had preferred to stay in her quarters by Gryffindor tower when she had been Headmistress, and Harry had followed her example. He had eschewed the grander suite set aside for the position for a smaller set of rooms situated right next to those he had once shared with his father.

His father still occupied them. Sirius Black was Hogwarts’ resident artist and the Professor of Magical Artistry. He had taught a small class of Sixth and Seventh Years since Harry’s own Sixth Year, and was happily settled into the position, juggling it with his responsibilities as Lord Black.

Harry enjoyed the Christmas decorations as he traversed the corridors. Each portrait was bedecked with a frame of tinsel or holly and ivy. They were small green trees with pretty lights tucked into corners, miniatures of the large tree in Hogwarts great hall. The house elves had outdone themselves, Harry thought, as he took the final corner and ended up at the door of his quarters. They were guarded by a new portrait of Hogwarts, the great dragon who the school was named to honour. Sirius had painted her with the permission of the original who still resided in the Headmaster’s office.

“Hello again, Hogwarts,” Harry greeted her cheerfully in parseltongue.

“My counterpart wants to know you have a guest in your office for lunch,” Hogwarts replied. “The Witch of Ravenclaw.”

“Luna’s here?!” Harry’s eyes widened with surprise. It had been months since he had seen her.

He quickly sent his outerwear into his quarters with a swish of his wand and turned around to head to his office instead. Behind him the dragon huffed, a plume of smoke emerging from her nostrils.

He took a passageway that let him bypass the usual corridors and came out at the foot of his office stairs, surprising the gargoyle. He bounded up the winding steps two at a time and the door of his office swung open in welcome.

He found Luna sat on the floor in front of the ancient portrait of Hogwarts on the back wall of the office, chatting away to the dragon.

Luna gracefully got to her feet and Harry gaped at her very pregnant body for a second before she swept him up into a hug.

They settled in to catch-up with each other, sitting on the comfy sofa Harry had installed by the windows which looked out onto the Hogwarts’ grounds. The small lunch of soup and sandwiches swiftly disappeared as they talked about Harry’s start as Headmaster.

“I’d like to come home,” Luna finally said.

“You’re always welcome,” Harry responded. “But I thought…”

“I once told Hogwarts I’d be away for twenty years when I was thirteen, and we are a few years shy of that,” Luna admitted. Her hand fell protectively to her very evident bump. “Bug here changed my plans.”

“I didn’t realise you were seeing someone,” Harry began tentatively.

“I wasn’t,” Luna said. “I’m not.” She smiled at him. “Bug is an accident of Fate.”

Harry felt the weight of her words resonate deep inside of him to the part of him who was and always would be Death’s Champion.

“Well, they’ll have no shortage of honorary Aunts and Uncles,” Harry said.

Bug wouldn’t be the first child born in their small group since Ron had made an early start on being a parent. Harry maintained his best mate was trying to build his own Quidditch team.

“We’d love to have you and Bug in the castle, Luna.”

Luna smiled, her luminous silver eyes twinkling. “Events are moving faster than anticipated.” She pinned him with an expectant gaze. “You decided to become Headmaster.”

“It felt like the right time,” Harry murmured. He’d felt the pull to be the Headmaster more strongly than ever once he’d turned thirty. Somehow his conversation with Minerva about how he was feeling had ended up with him agreeing to take up the role.

“And Susan agreed to take over the Defence of the Dark Arts,” Luna commented.

“She did,” Harry said softly. “Just as Ron decided to retire from Quidditch management and take up his position this year, and Hermione is arranging to take over the infirmary once she’s home from the Valley clinic this time.”

“Since Draco never left in the first place, we’ll all be back under her wings then,” Luna murmured. “Apart from Neville, but he’s exactly where he needs to be as Minister of Magic.”

Harry nodded. The strange feeling of rightness echoed in his soul once more. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

Luna smiled. “We have time to prepare, but with the new year comes the new challenge for us all.”

Harry reached over and caught hold of her hand. “Then I’m glad doubly you’re home.”

o-O-o

It wasn’t the first time Harry had dreamed of the cemetery at Godric’s Hollow. He stood in front of the gravestone of his parents and waited in the chill.

A figure appeared behind the stone. Death was cloaked head to toe in black, the ubiquitous hood was up, and there was only darkness where a face should be.

“Champion,” Death intoned.

Harry bowed his head. “It is time, isn’t it?”

A shiver crept down his spine as Death hummed.

“The Witch of Ravenclaw speaks the truth,” Death confirmed, “Fate has spoken and the mortal world is shifting.”

“I saw a battlefield,” Harry murmured, “and a boy with a sword.”

Death placed a bony hand on top of the gravestone. “And where were you, my Raven?”

“Beside him,” Harry answered.

“Because that is where my Champion has always been destined to be,” Death’s form began to fade into the surrounding swirling fog, “standing beside his King.”

o-O-o

18^th December 2010

Harry waved goodbye to the carriages transporting the majority of the school home for the Christmas break. He laughed as Padfoot playfully bounded after the last carriage in his Grim form before returning and transforming to his human self.

The years had been kind to his father, Harry mused fondly. There was hardly any grey creeping into the full head of dark hair which Sirius wore in a low bun while teaching and painting. He knew Sirius still followed the fitness regime they’d started the Summer Padfoot had adopted him and it showed in Padfoot’s lithe and athletic form. It was amusing to Harry that his father still garnered the most crushes in the school, although Draco was giving him a run for his money.

Sirius dropped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and gave him a sideways hug. “Congrats on making it through your first term as the Big Cheese, kiddo.”

“First Christmas ahead,” Minerva countered as she joined them, leaning heavily on the walking stick she’d taken to using after a particularly heavy fall had shattered her hip. “There are only a handful of students staying over, although we will have the lot from Haven too on Christmas Day.”

Harry glanced over at her and smiled. “I’m ready.” He was really looking forward to greeting the kids from Haven.

Haven was the first Wizarding Children’s home established by Susan’s parents. They’d converted an old manor house on the outskirts of Edinburgh for the task. Harry loved visiting the place although he hadn’t had a chance since becoming Headmaster.

Minerva nodded her acknowledgement and farewell as Harry and Sirius turned in the direction of their quarters.

“Are you ready for the family descending on Christmas Eve?” asked Harry.

They had established the tradition back in Harry’s Fifth Year when Minerva had asked Sirius and Harry to stay in the castle for Christmas.

The Black family would gather on Christmas Eve for dinner in Sirius’ quarters and Christmas morning would see those members of the family still in the castle exchanging presents before they went down to the Great Hall for Christmas lunch with the rest of those remaining at the school.

“Dobby is on top of it all,” Sirius said brightly. “When is Hermione due back?”

“Her portkey will return her to my office just before lunch on Christmas Eve. I figure we’ll have lunch just the two of us, have some time for ourselves before the rest of the family arrive,” Harry said, hiding his nerves because he had plans and he didn’t want Padfoot to guess at them.

“She’s finished at the clinic then?” Sirius checked.

Harry nodded. “She was thinking about doing a rotation at Saint Mungo’s again, and I know they wanted her back, but I’m hoping she’ll stay and start the handover with Helen.”

“Luna being here and pregnant might convince her,” Sirius commented.

Harry nodded because he knew it probably would sway Hermione. She and Luna had somehow ended up as best friends despite being very different people.

He sneaked a look at Sirius. “Are we expecting Marco?”

The Head of the Italian Aurors had been Padfoot’s long-distance lover for over a decade. Sirius usually spent a month in Italy during the Summer; Marco spent a month in England. In between, they exchanged love letters and Floo calls. Some years Marco managed to get away and spend the Christmas break with them.

Harry liked Marco. The dark-haired Italian was a good guy who genuinely cared about Padfoot. Harry didn’t quite get their long-distance arrangement, but it worked for them.

Sirius shook his head. “He’s got to work. He’ll come over on Boxing Day.”

They had reached the corridor and Sirius’ door was up first.

“You want to come in and have a mulled wine with your old man?” asked Sirius, nudging him.

“I would,” Harry sighed, “but Theo’s waiting on me. He’s got a stack of things for me to sign as Lord Potter apparently.”

Sirius grimaced. “If it’s anything like the stack Remus had Dobby bring to me to sign as Lord Black yesterday…” his hand landed heavily on Harry’s shoulder, “good luck. You’re going to need it.” His bright silver eyes gave away his amusement.

Harry poked him before he stepped forward and hugged his father briefly. “I’ll drop round before lunch?”

“You might want to make that dinner,” Sirius teased.

Harry laughed as he walked away.

He entered his quarters unsurprised to find Theo had set-up at the dining table towards the back of the room. The window there had a great view of the Quidditch pitch. He raised an eyebrow at just how much parchment covered the table.

Maybe Padfoot hadn’t actually been joking, Harry considered with a twinge of concern even as he greeted Theo cheerfully.

Theo had assumed the position of Steward of the House of Potter after graduating from Merlin College at Cambridge with a joint magical Mastery in Politics and Economics. He’d apprenticed with Remus for a year before Remus had declared him perfectly capable of handling the Nott Estate. A year later, Theo had proposed taking over the Potter Estate to enable Remus to focus on his Alpha responsibilities. Remus’ pack had picked up a lot of werewolves asking for sanctuary in the wake of Fenrir Greyback’s demise and their return to England.

Harry had no complaints.

Theo had a knack for business and he was politically a lot more astute than Harry himself. He was a good leader for the Potter alliance in the Wizengamot (he had been pivotal in getting Neville elected Minister), and he held proxy for both the Houses of Potter and Black when Harry and Padfoot couldn’t make a session.

“Don’t look so worried,” Theo remarked dryly, “only half of these are yours. I figured I’d do mine at the same time.”

Harry pushed a hand through his dark messy hair. “Well, I’m a little relieved.” He looked around the table nervously. “Uh, did you…”

Theo arched an eyebrow and tapped his bag which was sitting on the chair beside him with his wand. Three boxes emerged and floated down onto the table.

“Griphook says hello,” Theo said. He pointed at the first. “Your grandmother’s.” He moved to the second. “The Lady Peverell ring.” He tapped the third. “But I think you’ll want this one for Granger. It’s the Lady Potter ring.”

Harry picked up the ring box and opened it. The simple gold band had an oval ruby, not too big and not too small, framed with two diamonds. It was simple and elegant. It was perfect for Hermione.

“You’re right,” Harry said. “This is the one.”

Theo swished his wand. The other two boxes disappeared, heading back to the vault. “Do you need help with the rest of the preparations?”

Harry shook his head. “Dobby’s pulling together the picnic on the day so…”

Theo waited until Harry sat down before he did the same. “Have you told Sirius yet? Or Weasley?”

Harry shook his head. He sighed. “I’ll tell Padfoot later.”

Traditionally, as Padfoot’s heir he knew he should have told Padfoot before he’d even selected the ring, but he knew deep down that Padfoot would approve.

“And Weasley?” Theo pushed.

Harry looked over at him. “What is with you all still calling each other by your surnames? You’ve been friends for years.”

Theo shrugged. “It’s our thing.” He pointed at him. “And you’re deflecting.”

Harry slumped in his seat, feeling more like the teenager he had once been than the Headmaster he was.

“He’s going to be upset if he finds out you were planning to propose to Granger and didn’t tell him,” Theo said.

“I know,” Harry sighed. “I just want to keep the people who know as few as possible for as long as possible. I’ll tell him before she’s back.”

Theo hummed. “I get it. You and Lord Black were literally the only people I told before I proposed to Jeremy.”

“How is your husband?” asked Harry brightly, grabbing onto the opportunity to change the subject and running with it.

Theo shot him a look which told him that he was not fooled. “Jeremy’s good.” He paused. “He wants us to have a baby next year.”

“What do you want?” asked Harry, sensing Theo’s uncertainty.

“The rumour is that Luna’s come back?” Theo looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry nodded slowly. “She’s back.”

“All the protectors are back in Hogwarts,” Theo stated as though testing out the words. “Is it the right time for a baby?”

Harry spread his hands out even as he shrugged. “Is it the right time to propose and plan a wedding? Remus got married and had a baby during the whole Voldemort thing.” He caught Theo’s gaze. “Whatever we face, we face together.”

Theo nodded. He patted the stack of parchment. “Ready to get started then, Lord Potter?”

Harry straightened and nodded. “Let’s get this done.”

o-O-o

Harry was back in his childhood nursery at Godric’s Hollow. He stood in front of the empty crib and sighed.

He rarely dreamed about Godric’s Hollow. The old cottage had been restored years ago, but Harry had never been able to bring himself to live in the place. He much preferred the Hogsmeade house which Sirius had given over to Harry so Harry would have his own place after Hogwarts. He and Ron had shared the house until his friend’s marriage.

Nobody lived at the Potters’ cottage in the Hollow and perhaps nobody ever would. Theo had suggested taking the cottage down and building a memorial instead, but Harry wasn’t sure he would ever feel able to take that step.

Warm arms slid around him and he turned into his mother’s embrace with a sigh.

There were moments he regretted being the Master of the Hallows but in the moments where he got to speak to his parents through the Veil…he was simply grateful. When he eased away from the needed hug, his eyes drank in his mother.

Lily Potter looked as young as the day she had defended Harry and died to save him. Her auburn hair was loose around her shoulders, her pretty green tartan dress a festive touch. Her emerald gaze met Harry’s sympathetically.

“You’re worried,” Lily cupped his cheek, her hand impossibly warm against his skin.

Harry grimaced, pushing a hand through his hair. “Why did you and Dad get married in the middle of a war?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Lily replied. “We loved each other and wanted to be together. We weren’t going to let those dark idiots ruin that for us.” Her eyes met his firmly. “And you shouldn’t let what is to come ruin your plans with Hermione.”

“I love her,” Harry said quietly.

“She loves you too,” Lily smiles warmly. “I couldn’t be happier for you and you know your Dad is equally thrilled.”

Something in Harry eased with his own parents’ blessing.

“Padfoot’s going to be thrilled,” Harry said out loud. He'd held off telling him overcome with a rush of uncertainty after his conversation with Theo.

Lily laughed. “He’ll be campaigning for grandkids, that’s for sure.”

Butterflies fluttered in Harry’s belly.

“One step at a time,” Harry croaked.Lily grinned at him. “Exactly,” she dropped a kiss on his cheek and stepped away, fading back beyond the Veil, “one step at a time.”

o-O-o

19^th December 2010

If there was one thing that Harry could rely on, it was Ron’s obsession with Quidditch.

Harry paused at the edge of the Quidditch field and grinned up at the sight of Ron inspecting the hoops.

Ron caught sight of him and waved.

Harry pointed at the Gryffindor stands and Ron pantomimed joining him after finishing with the hoop.

It took Harry no time to climb the familiar steps up to the top tier. He settled in a seat and waited for Ron to zoom over to find him.

He pulled his wool coat a little tighter around him as a sharp bite of wind rustled through the air and tugged Harry’s hair into further disarray.

He swallowed down another rush of nerves. Honestly, Harry remonstrated with himself, he hadn’t even been this nervous telling Ron that he wanted to date Hermione back when they’d been schoolboys. Well, not that he could remember. His lips twitched at the memory of Draco trying to convince Harry not to date Hermione at all which had led to Ron finding out before Harry had actually worked the courage to tell him.

It would be fine, Harry told himself briskly. Telling Padfoot the night before had gone well. Harry suspected that Sirius had known. Probably because of Dobby. The elf really couldn’t keep a secret. Or maybe, Harry considered with amusement, his father just knew Harry that well.

Padfoot was over the moon about Harry’s imminent proposal. Harry hoped Ron would be the same.

As though he’d summoned him with the thought, Ron swooped down, jumping agilely from the latest Nimbus broom onto the stands. He dropped into the seat beside Harry with a small thump.

Harry regarded Ron fondly. His friend’s bright red hair was windswept and as messy as Harry’s. His Weasley freckled face was flushed red with exertion. For a Dad of five, Ron looked surprisingly bright-eyed and bushytailed.

“You sent the kids to your Mum’s last night, didn’t you?” Harry teased.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Date night.” He poked Harry sharply in the ribs. “Luna’s got Lydia broody again.”

Harry shook his head. Ron’s whirlwind romance with Lydia Inglebee had been the talk of their Seventh year. They’d married the Summer after Lydia’s own graduation. Their eldest son and Harry’s first godson, Harold, had received his Hogwarts letter that October and would start in the new academic year in September.

“Can’t say I mind too much,” Ron waggled his eyebrows.

“Too much information, Ron!” Harry laughed, shoving Ron’s shoulder as though they were still boys and not grown men.

Ron scoffed. He looked sharply at Harry. “When’s Hermione getting home?”

“Christmas Eve,” Harry said. He took a deep breath. “I’m going to take her to lunch and propose to her.”

Ron’s blue eyes went wide with surprise before they brightened suspiciously. He grinned in delight. “About time, mate!”

Harry felt his relief at Ron’s easy acceptance turn his bones to water. “You’ll be my best man, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ron assured him with another easy grin.

Harry grinned back.

“Of course, you’ve got some catching up to Lydia and me,” Ron joked.

“Somehow I don’t think we’re going to catch up,” Harry said dryly. “I still don’t know how you convinced Lydia to try for a Quidditch team.”

“She lost a bet,” Ron joked.

Harry poked him.

Ron grinned. “Helps that she loves being pregnant.” He held up crossed fingers. “We’re hoping the next one is a girl.”

Because Ron had inherited the Weasley tendency for boys.

“Your lot over with Molly then?” asked Harry.

Ron nodded. “Mum and Dad insisted they visit now for the holidays since we’re here for Christmas day this year.”

“You know you don’t have to stay,” Harry said quietly.

“It’s my first year as the Flying Instructor and Professor of Physical Education,” Ron shrugged. “It’s not like the folks are going to be lacking for company. Bill will be there with Fleur and their two. Charlie’s visiting with Anatoile. Percy and Penny will be there with their three. Plus, the twins and Ginny will be there too.”

Harry blinked at the litany. He forgot sometimes just how many Weasleys there were, especially with all the kids.

“Besides,” Ron said, “Lydia’s kind of relieved that we can just say we’re here and not have to deal with her folks or mine getting the hump because we’re spending the holidays with the other set.”

“I guess that’s one way to solve that problem,” Harry said wryly.

Ron nodded. He looked away for a second towards the castle and back at Harry. “I also think this is where we’re all meant to be this Christmas anyway.”

Harry nodded slowly. “It’s looking that way.”

“Any hint of what’s coming?” asked Ron seriously.

“What was always going to come,” Harry said simply.

Ron mock glared at him. “You almost sounded like Albus right then!”

“Take that back!” Harry protested. The wards shivered for a second and he frowned. “Ginny just crossed the wards.”

“Ginny?” Ron’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “She’s supposed to be in France playing against Paris in the European League tomorrow!” He was off the stand and hopping on his broom before Harry could say anything.

Harry sighed. He held his right palm up and the Marauder’s Map dropped into it. He opened it up and with a single thought the Map showed him Ginny heading through the castle.

She was going the wrong way for Ron’s family quarters with Lydia though.

In fact, Harry mused, she looked like she was making a direct beeline for Slytherin and…

Oh.

Harry took advantage of his status as Headmaster and disapparated out of the stands and into the castle as quickly as he could. He could be mistaken, he told himself. He didn’t know for certain that Ginny was heading for Draco. There was really no reason for Ginny to head to Draco…

Harry was going crazy, he assured himself, because there was no way that Ginny was the girlfriend who Draco had been keeping secret all year.

And yet, Harry was putting together the Ministry New Year’s Ball and how Draco had danced with Ginny on a dare by telling her it was a dare; how Draco had started dating right after; how Ginny had been coy about her own love life the last time Harry had talked with her.

He skidded around the right corner just in time to hear Ron’s startled yell.

“GINNY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MALFOY!”

Harry sighed.

o-O-o

Harry sat on his broomstick awaiting the snitch.

The Quidditch hoops swayed in the breeze beside him in a cloudless sky.

“Not long to wait now,” Cedric Diggory murmured beside him.

Harry turned to smile at the former Hogwarts’ Triwizard Champion, his first choice for the Hufflepuff protector. Cedric who had died protecting Hogwarts in the final battle. “It’s good to see you, Cedric.”

And it was.

Like Harry’s mother, Cedric hadn’t aged at all behind the Veil. He looked rosy-cheeked and boyishly handsome. His Quidditch uniform showed off his athletic build.

“This is the first time you’ve spoken with me,” Harry said softly.

“This is the last time too,” Cedric admitted with an all too familiar smile. “It is time for me to return. Our king will need loyal knights.”

“And you will be his most loyal,” Harry murmured, knowing it was true as soon as he said the words.

Cedric inclined his head. “I’ve never regretted it, Harry. I saved Viktor and gave my life protecting others just as you did. It was the right thing to do.”

Harry closed his eyes at the words. He’d always felt guilty about the deaths in the battle, despite the therapy he’d had. He’d especially felt that way about Cedric because he had chosen the other boy to stand as a protector.

“If you come back,” Harry said, “if you choose to come back now, you’ll face another battle.”

“I will be beside our king,” Cedric said. “Just as you will be, Harry.”

Harry nodded.

There was a glint of gold in the sky.

Cedric grinned. “See you soon, Harry!”

Harry watched as Cedric sped away on the broomstick as he chased after the snitch and reached out and reached out…and plucked it victoriously from the air disappearing in a bright beam of light…

“See you soon, Lancelot,” Harry whispered.

o-O-o

20^th December 2010

“I hear you had an exciting day yesterday,” Neville grinned as he took his whiskey from Harry.

Harry shot his godbrother a look as he sat down in his favourite chair next to the sofa. “You knew.”

The fire crackled cheerily in the hearth sending a faint scent of pine into the room.

“Kind of?” Neville conceded, relaxing back into the sofa cushions with a studied nonchalance. “You know the old Slytherin crowd are close. Blaise started a book after the Ball.”

Harry shook his head. Somewhere in amongst the changing alliances of their Fourth Year, Blaise and Neville had ended up as close as brothers. Blaise had actually moved in with the Longbottoms after Fifth Year.

“How did Ron take it?” asked Neville.

It took Harry a moment to realise Neville meant Ginny’s relationship with Draco and not his own plan to propose to Hermione.

“About as well as you’d expect,” Harry said dryly.

“That good?” Neville whistled.

Harry sighed. “Luckily none of the students were around.” He paused. “Well, apart from Regina.”

“She knew,” Neville guessed.

“She knew,” Harry confirmed.

Draco’s younger sister was in her Fifth Year at Hogwarts. She was like every other lady of the House of Black – terrifying.

“Anyway, Ron has grudgingly allowed that maybe Ginny and Draco dating isn’t the end of the world,” Harry said. “He ended up being more upset about the Cornwall Pixies dropping Ginny from the starting line-up ahead of the League game. I think he spent all last night Floo-calling people to complain.”

Neville laughed.

“So,” Harry said, “how are you settling in as Minister of Magic?”

“Getting used to it,” Neville admitted, gesturing with his glass. “It’s both different and not from what I expected from my time working with Cornelius. I’m learning that it’s difficult to get things done without a ton of meetings though.”

Harry grimaced at the thought of more meetings.

“How are you settling in as the Headmaster of Hogwarts?” asked Neville, smiling and gesturing around Harry’s comfortable quarters.

Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. “A bit like you, I think. Both different and the same? Mostly Minerva left me a steady ship.”

Neville nodded. His expression sobered. “Luna’s back.”

“Yes,” Harry said.

“Then whatever comes next is coming soon,” Neville surmised. “The protectors of Hogwarts are gathered.”

“Luna says the challenge will begin in the new year,” Harry confirmed with frank honesty.

Neville nodded solemnly. “The Ministry stands ready to assist you.” He cocked his eyebrow. “Do you know what is coming?”

Harry smiled sadly. “I saw it once.”

Neville’s eyes widened. “You mean when you, uh…”

“When I died and stood by Death on every battlefield through time,” Harry supplied. Neville had been one of the few people who knew the truth of what had happened when Harry had saved them all from Barty Crouch Junior’s last stand to kill them all. He sighed. “It’s a blur now.”

“Maybe that is for the best,” Neville said. “You might be too tempted to interfere like Albus if you knew what was to come.”

“Maybe,” Harry allowed with a chuckle.

Neville sipped his whiskey. “Anything else you want to tell me, little godbrother?”

Harry sent him a chiding look and sipped his own rather more boring beverage of tea. He’d learned early on that alcohol did not mix well with his power levels. “I am literally only one day younger than you.”

“I’m still older,” Neville smirked.

Harry sighed as he took in the knowing glint in Neville’s eyes. “You know.”

“You forgot to tell Ron not to tell Lydia,” Neville pointed out. “Lydia told Ginny to make her feel better about Ron being Ron. Ginny told Draco to make Draco feel better about Ron being Ron. And Draco told Blaise because he wanted to change his bet…”

Harry set his tea down and put his head into his hands.

“If it helps, we’re all now sworn to secrecy and Blaise told Draco he couldn’t change his bet due to insider information,” Neville leaned over and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Harry looked up. “I was hoping to propose without everyone knowing I was going to propose.”

“You know she’s going to say yes,” Neville said confidently. “You two have been solid ever since, well…”

Ever since they’d resumed their relationship after a miserable year apart.

The Year of Hell as Harry had deemed it had happened straight after Hogwarts when Hermione and Harry had split up after a fight. Neither of them could remember exactly what the fight had been about. They’d both been irritated and tired. Harry had been getting used to professional Quidditch training and doing his Defence of the Dark Arts apprenticeship; Hermione had been stressed with trying to learn both magical and muggle medicine at the same time.

A year later they’d both ended up outside in the garden at Harry’s birthday party. They’d reconciled and they’d been stronger than ever for the time apart.

“I guess we’ll see,” Harry admitted.

Neville patted his shoulder again as he got to his feet. “You have nothing to worry about,” he reiterated. “Well, I should get going. I promised Sue I’d stop by for a drink.”

“A drink, huh?” Harry started to grin.

Neville’s cheeks went a ruddy red. “That’s, uh…” he deflated suddenly in a way that alarmed Harry. “It would be weird though, wouldn’t it? Me and Sue? I mean, because of Hannah. She was her best friend, and I was Hannah’s first boyfriend.”

Harry silently swore roundly. The betrayal of his first girlfriend had left an indelible mark on Neville. Hannah Abbott was like a spectre looking over his shoulder in every other relationship Neville had ever had.

Hannah had served her time for colluding with Crouch and gone to live abroad as mandated by the Wizengamot as part of her sentencing. She’d ended up at an Abbott ranch in New Zealand and had ended up marrying a muggle sheep farmer. Reports stated that she’d had two children and looked settled.

“Hannah hasn’t been in either of your lives for years, Nev,” Harry said firmly, “so, no. I don’t think it would be weird for you two to date.”

Neville sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess it’s daft for me to be hung up on relationships we had back when we were kids.”

Harry shrugged. “Hannah betraying us was tough on both you and Sue,” he said, “I think you’re allowed to be a little freaked out about things which remind you about it.”

“But you’re right,” Neville said. “Hannah shouldn’t be any part of my thinking about whether to ask Sue out properly.”

Harry smiled and patted his arm. “For what it’s worth, I think you and Sue would make a great couple.

Neville nodded slowly. “You know my Gran keeps track of the boy.”

“You mean Caspar Abbott?” Harry grimaced.

Barty Crouch’s s son was being raised by the Abbotts in France and had been since his birth. The Abbotts had petitioned to have him attend Hogwarts but Minerva had refused on the basis that he’d be attending classes with students directly related to people his parents had harmed. He was currently a Fourth Year at Beauxbatons and a good student, by all accounts.

“I feel for him,” Neville said quietly. “It can’t be easy knowing his beginning.” He straightened. “But we should all move on. It was years ago now.”

Harry clasped his shoulder. “Well said.”

Neville reached down and picked up his abandoned whiskey. He downed the remaining liquid and set the glass down with a thump. “Wish me luck.”

“You won’t need it,” Harry repeated his godbrother’s assurance back to him, “but good luck anyway.”

Neville shot him a grin as he left Harry’s quarters.

o-O-o

It was rare for Harry to dream about Arcturus Black instead of his own grandfather. Sirius’ grandfather was a savvy politician who embodied the Slytherin traits of ambitious and cunning.

The first time he had met Arcturus in his dreams, before the final battle, it had been in the wizarding circle where the family magic had been created by Merlin and the most powerful witches and wizards of the time. Every time since then they’d been sat in their respective Wizengamot seats, alone in the chamber and able to talk across the circular space as though they sat right next to each other.

Harry grimaced even as he sat back in the Potter seat. He rarely attended the Wizengamot since he’d given Theo his proxy. He was not suited to politics; he was too blunt, too direct.

“There was a reason why your father chose to assume the role of Lord Black,” Arcturus said from the Black chair. He placed both hands on his walking cane and leaned forward to peer at Harry with the same silver eyes as Padfoot.

“Power,” Harry stated.

“Just so,” Arcturus nodded approvingly. His black hair was streaked with grey but neatly tied back in the old wizarding tradition of a single low ponytail. His expensive wizarding robe gleamed darkly green.

“It was love that won in the end,” Harry countered.

“Only because your father moved heaven and earth to create the right world in which love could thrive,” Arcturus pointed out.

Harry rubbed his forehead as though trying to stave off the headache politics always gave him.

“Neville is Minister and you have worthy allies, but you need to own the Wizengamot the same as your father did in building your alliance back then,” Arcturus pressed. “There are those who are simply waiting for the Potter alliance to falter and to assume it cannot would be foolish.”

Harry nodded slowly, the warning resonating inside him as the truth. “I hear you, Grandfather Black.”

“Then you know what to do,” Arcturus said proudly.

“If power is what is needed,” Harry sighed, “then power is what I’ll embrace.”

Just as Padfoot had embraced power to make sure he had custody of Harry, to make sure Harry was safe and happy, to make sure they’d win against Voldemort in the end by denying him the power he’d sought so badly.

“For the record,” Harry said, “I hate this plan.”

Arcturus smiled. “So did my grandson, but he would do anything to see you safe and you must do the same for our king.”

Harry nodded grimly.

Arcturus saluted him and faded away, leaving Harry sitting alone in the Wizengamot contemplating the challenge ahead.

It would be fine, Harry mused. He’d talk to Neville and Theo, and they’d come up with a plan. He might have to embrace politics but he was not alone. It was the hardest lesson he’d learned back when he’d faced Voldemort, but it was the most important one.

o-O-o

21^st December 2010

“I should thank you,” Sue said, a smile softening the stern lines of her face.

Harry thought that Sue looked more and more like her Aunt Amelia every year. There were worse people to resemble; Amelia was a beautiful witch who continued to preside over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with an iron hand. He knew a part of Amelia was disappointed that Susan had left the department to teach at Hogwarts instead of remaining a career Auror.

“Thank me?” asked Harry, pulling his attention back to his meeting with his Professor of Defence of the Dark Arts.

“Neville asked me out for dinner,” Sue explained. “He said you give him a push.”

“He didn’t need much of one,” Harry shrugged off the praise and took the cup of coffee Sue offered him.

They’d met up in Sue’s office, a large sprawling room at the back of the classroom which had been Harry’s for years. Sue had made it her own. There was a shelf of her awards and certificates on the right wall; safety posters from various DMLE campaigns on the left. Her bookshelves were packed to the brim with books ranging from ‘How to stop a vampire’ to ‘Shields: Everything you need to know.’ His eyes widened at the sight of the latest book on magical curses sat on her desk. He’d only just received his own copy.

“Luna may have given me a push too,” Sue admitted. “I adore Neville, but there is a lot of baggage.”

“Old baggage,” Harry said gently.

Sue wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “Right, and I refuse to let Hannah’s betrayal steal anything else from me.” Her expression grew thoughtful. “She did her time and she’s moved on. It’s probably past time that those she hurt do the same.”

“I know it’s easier said than done,” Harry murmured. He still hated Peter Pettigrew although the rat had died years before in Azkaban. He’d never forgive Peter for betraying his family and leading Voldemort to their door and he doubted Sirius would either.

“But we should make the effort,” Sue said firmly.

Harry lifted his own mug in a silent toast of acknowledgement.

“So, what brings you to my office this morning?” asked Sue, clearly changing the subject. She arched an eyebrow in a way that reminded Harry even more of Amelia. “Is this about Luna coming back?”

“Partly,” Harry admitted. “We’re all together now or we will be once Hermione gets home.”

Sue nodded solemnly. “Something’s coming.”

“Whatever is coming, Luna said it will begin in the new year,” Harry said.

“Do you know what it is?” asked Sue pointedly.

Harry sighed and rubbed his chin. “I saw the end of it. When I…when I died protecting everyone from Crouch’s bomb, for a moment I was stood on a battlefield with our king, a sword in his hand, facing an indescribable evil.”

“’The Once and Future King,’” Sue quoted, blinking back her shock. “The prophecy says that he will come when England needs him the most.”

“He’ll need protection until he’s ready to meet his Fate,” Harry stated.

Sue’s gaze met his directly. “Then he’ll have protection here at Hogwarts under her wings with her protectors sworn to protect him.” She tilted her head. “The family magic…”

“Will protect him too,” Harry said. His magic stirred beneath his skin. “That is Merlin’s legacy.”

Sue shivered as the magical truth of his words echoed through her own family magic. “If you call upon the whole of it again, you will die.”

“Every magical act has a price,” Harry agreed. “I only survived last time because of the accidental tether I’d created between Sirius and me, and Albus was willing to give his own life in place of mine.” He shrugged. “I don’t truly know if I’ll need to call upon the family magic the same way I did to contain Crouch’s bomb. It may not be necessary.”

“Let’s hope not,” Sue said fervently. “None of us want to lose you.” She tapped her fingers against her mug. “That’s not the only power you have to use.”

“No, but I can use the Hallows,” Harry agreed, “or at least I can use them the way I used them in the battle the last time, in concert, but I cannot use them to call on Death’s power. Even as his Champion the price I would pay would be too high.”

And it would not be his to pay truly.

When Harry’s ancestor Ignotus had called Death’s power, he had condemned Harry to be Death’s Champion, to face Voldemort, to know loss and grief before he was a grown man. It had only been the intervention of the Grim, of Padfoot, which had mitigated Death’s judgement giving Harry knowledge of love and his own protector.

“Don’t forget you still have the Potter alliance,” Sue said briskly. “Our wands are still sworn to you.”

Harry nodded, remembering his dream. “I’m going to have to take more of a role in the Wizengamot.”

“Rather you than me,” Sue rejoined immediately. “Dad keeps trying to get me more involved as his heir but I’m just as glad to leave it to him for a few more years yet.”

“Lucky you,” Harry sighed. “Anyway, I just wanted to loop you into the whole…” he gestured vaguely.

“Oncoming storm of evil that we’re once again fated to fight?” Sue raised her mug at him. “Thank you for that.”

He grinned at her dry sarcasm and raised his own mug in silent acknowledgement.

“I guess the others already know?” Sue murmured, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I still need to meet with Draco,” Harry said. His Professor of Charms had been avoiding him since the reveal of his and Ginny’s relationship.

“I’m surprised Ron’s taking the big reveal so well,” Sue said. “I thought Draco would have been a dead wizard for sure when the Weasleys found out.”

Harry’s gaze narrowed on her. “Did you know they were dating?”

Sue smirked. “You didn’t?”

Harry groaned dramatically. “How did I not guess?”

“Never change, Harry,” Sue said with a grin. “Never change.”

o-O-o

Harry rarely spoke to the picture of Albus that hung in the Headmaster’s office. He knew Minerva had appreciated the old wizard’s advice even if she had remonstrated with Albus for his old manipulations. Harry loved Albus like a child loved a favoured grandparent and he’d forgiven him long ago for the hurts Albus’ decisions had caused in his own life. Yet…

Yet Harry could barely bring himself to talk to the wizarding portrait of the former Headmaster.

It was rarer still to meet Albus in his dreams but Harry found himself stood beside Albus at the shores of the Black lake looking out at the still water, Hogwarts behind them.

“Headmaster,” Harry greeted Albus with a respectful nod.

Albus smiled warmly back at him. “Headmaster Potter.”

Harry snorted at the title.

“You wanted to talk with me, Harry,” Albus said.

“Did I?” Harry didn’t think he’d wanted to talk with Albus.

“Didn’t you? You are the Master of the Deathly Hallows. You are the one to call us into your dreams, dear boy.”

Harry grimaced but he couldn’t argue with the logic.

“Well, we might as well, get comfortable,” Albus conjured a comfortable squishy chair as gaudy as the robes he wore and sat down in it.

Harry took out his wand and conjured a chair for himself – a more modest leather armchair similar to the one he favoured in his quarters.

“Now, what did you want to talk with me about?” Albus asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

He almost reiterated that he hadn’t wanted to talk with him, but the sudden thought that the Headmaster had been on his mind since the discussion with Sue arrested him. He’d been thinking about Albus’ sacrifice, thinking about how it had been Albus’ redemption in many ways after his actions had seen Harry suffer a childhood with the Dursleys and had condemned Sirius to Azkaban.

He had wondered…

“How do I stop myself from your mistakes?” Harry blinked as the words he’d uttered aloud hung in the air between them.

Albus breathed in sharply. “Ah, dear boy.” For a long moment the old wizard looked saddened. “Your father gave me a test once. He was kind to give me a Dreadful. In hindsight, I rather deserved a Troll.”

Harry stayed silent as Albus grew contemplative, a line appearing across his brow.

“Looking back, I grew arrogant about my position in the wizarding world and knowing what was right,” Albus confessed sheepishly. “I was the most powerful of my generation, I apprenticed with Nicholas, and I defeated Grindelwald. While I outwardly refused some positions of power, I enjoyed the status and the respect of those I did accept. People looked to me for answers and I revelled in their belief of my wisdom. I began to believe that only I knew the way forward and so I began to truly trust no-one but myself. Only I knew what was right. In the end, I believed that to be true beyond all else.”

Harry could see it in his mind’s eyes. Albus’ decline into arrogance had been slow and steady, action by action. He remembered the awe and the reverence which had surrounded him in the wake of Voldemort’s defeat…he had handled it through dedicated stubbornness at pretending he was normal, by leaning into his friends and family who simply loved him as Harry. Sirius had faced the same hero-worship and had pretty much done the same as Harry, Harry mused. It had probably helped that he’d gradually stepped away from being the face of the Potter alliance too and had settled into his artist role at the school.

“I don’t believe you’ll make the same mistakes I made,” Albus concluded. “I think you’ll make all new ones of your own.”

“Well, that’s a slightly horrifying thought,” Harry said.

Albus huffed a laugh. “You will make mistakes, Harry, we all do. The trick is to hope that when you go wrong, you can make right in the end.”

Harry took a deep breath and let the words settle into his soul. It was good advice.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” he said solemnly.

Albus began to fade, chair and all, but his eyes still twinkled as he delivered his farewell. “Good luck, Headmaster Potter.”

o-O-o

22^nd December 2010

Harry woke abruptly with the certain knowledge in his magic that something was very wrong with Draco and that something evil had entered the wards.

He dragged on his dressing gown as he hurried from his rooms.

He met Sirius who was in his Padfoot form at the end of the corridor.

“Draco?” Harry checked.

There was a brief nod of the head before Padfoot bounded away,

Harry shifted into his lion form and followed after him swiftly. He ignored the faint cries of horror from the portraits. Some of the older portraits still believed that the grim was a portent of death and some of them were simply alarmed by the sight of an adult lion roaming the corridors of Hogwarts.

They both reached Draco’s door at the same time as a bedraggled Regina. The usually immaculately put together fifteen years old girl looked more like her messy cousin Dora given her flannel tartan pyjamas and her open dressing robe – the only difference was that Regina’s unusually messy hair was blonde. She had chosen to stay at Hogwarts with her brother rather than return to the home she shared with her mother since Narcissa had business abroad and would only return on Christmas Eve.

Harry was grateful that Sirius immediately shifted back to comfort Regina even as Harry shifted himself to address the portrait of a snake which guarded the door.

“As Headmaster of Hogwarts I command that you give me entry,” Harry hissed in parseltongue.

“Your wish is my command, Headmaster,” the snake hissed back.

The door opened.

Harry charged in and headed straight for Draco’s bedroom.

Draco was lying prone on the bed struggling fiercely against several black lines of foreign magic which were tangled all around him trying to bind him. Harry could see the glint of a shield around Draco’s body. Sweat gleamed on Draco’s pale brow, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he fought against the attack.

“Familius magicus protectus,” called Harry urgently pointing his wand at Draco.

The Black silver snake slid out of the wand and shot across to the bed winding around Draco and driving the black lines away and into a writhing ball in the middle of the room.

Draco shot up as they left him, panic written in his frantic wide eyes. “NO! It’s a blood curse…”

Harry whirled around and ran as the black lines barrelled out of the door seeking another Malfoy…

“Familius magicus protectus!” Sirius stood in front of Regina, his wand pointed up to the ceiling. The silver hue of the Black magic rained down and surrounded the pair in a protective dome. The black lines flinched back but continued to probe trying to find a weakness.

“The counter is sanguinem delere!” Draco informed him as he staggered over to stand beside Harry.

The black lines turned again heading their way.

Harry pointed his wand firmly as they raced toward them. “Sanguinem delere!”

A gold line shot forward from the tip of his wand and headed unerringly for the black lines. It impacted them with a bang and there was a shower of sparks which had both Harry and Draco turning away with alacrity.

When Harry lowered his arm, the lines were gone.

Sirius lowered the dome.

Regina darted around Sirius and across the room to hug her brother. Sirius followed her and pulled Harry into a short hug of their own.

“Are you alright?” asked Sirius quietly.

Harry nodded. “I’m fine,” he assured his father quietly. A movement by the door caught his attention; Minerva stood by the entryway. “I’d better check on the wards and the rest of the school.”

Sirius grimaced but let him go. “I’ll stay here. Malfoy might try again.”

Harry frowned. Lucius Malfoy had been quiet for years, living in exile in South America. “You really think it was him?”

“Blood curse,” Sirius reiterated, “it could only be him or Narcissa so…”

It was very unlikely to be Narcissa who adored her children.

She had swiftly divorced Lucius in the wake of Voldemort’s defeat. She held the Malfoy proxy on Draco’s behalf, Lucius having ostensibly retired from his war injuries. His leg had been severely injured and he’d been informed that he’d always walk with a limp and need the aide of a cane. Lucius had lived in exile quietly for the past fifteen years so why had he decided to attack his children?

Harry pushed his thoughts of Lucius Malfoy aside and turned back to his duties as Headmaster. First on the agenda was calling the aurors and reporting the attack then seeing to the students who had remained at the school…

It was over two hours later when he made his way to Sirius’ quarters. He wasn’t surprised to see Draco dressed in fresh pyjamas and a silken green robe sat by the fire sharing a whiskey with Sirius who was attired in his own variant.

Harry sat down on the sofa next to his father.

Dobby popped in. The house elf handed Harry a hot chocolate with a loud tut and popped away again.

“Everything alright with the rest of the school?” asked Draco studiously looking at his drink.

“All the other students who are here for Christmas slept through it. Only Minerva realised out of the Professors and us, probably because of her past connection to the wards. Hogwarts has reset the wards,” Harry said briskly. “He won’t get the opportunity to try that curse again while you’re within the walls here.”

“I’ll have to get the wards redone at the Manor,” Draco said with a grimace. “He’s too knowledgeable about the current configuration and I won’t risk Regina that way.”

“How is she?” asked Harry.

“Asleep in your old room,” Sirius said. “Pomfrey agreed that it was best for her to stay with family for the rest of the night. Draco’s going to sleep here too.”

“I don’t think I can sleep in those quarters again,” Draco confessed, deep lines bracketing his mouth at the admission.

“We’ll get you resettled,” Harry promised. “Snape’s old quarters are still available or there is a set closer to the common room.”

Draco hummed. “Maybe Snape’s. They have a private lab, don’t they?”

Harry nodded. “How did it go with Auror Sapworthy?”

Young Connor Sapworthy had grown-up into a fine young man. He was Sue’s former partner and a rising star at the DMLE.

Draco let out a slow breath and closed his eyes briefly. “I told Connor the spell my former parent used is an old Malfoy curse. It is meant to drain a blood relative of their magic and enhance the power of the castor. Lucius once claimed my great-grandfather had used it on his siblings. It leaves the victim nothing more than a squib at best, and dead at worst.”

“There’s a similar spell in the Black arsenal,” Sirius muttered lowly.

Draco lifted his empty glass. “Regina says he sent her a letter on her last birthday. He asked to meet her. She declined. He’s sent her two more letters since; she’s ignored both of them.”

Harry felt a tremor of terror at the idea of Regina meeting Lucius alone.

“She didn’t tell us because she didn’t want to worry us,” Draco recited. His silver eyes were flint hard. “I think we all know that if he had gotten her alone, he would have killed her.”

“Lucius is not at the estate in Peru any longer,” Sirius said crisply. “Moody called the Peruvian authorities and they checked out the place. It’s abandoned.”

“So, Lucius is in the wind,” Harry murmured.

“It looks like it,” Sirius sighed heavily.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Lucius has been quiet for years. Why now?” Harry asked.

“Why not now?” retorted Draco. “Things are in motion. You took up the Headship. Sue and Ron both returned to Hogwarts. Luna’s here. Whatever is coming is coming. Of course, my father would choose the other side. He’s always hated that I accepted the vow and bound myself to Hogwarts.”

Harry pushed a hand through his messy hair and nodded. “Unfortunately, that makes a lot of sense.”

The clock chimed.

“We should all try to get some more sleep,” Sirius said.

Draco flinched. “I’m not sure…”

“I’ll guard you and Regina,” Sirius promised. “Head up and get comfortable.”

Draco sighed. He got up and set his glass down on the side table. “I’ll go in with Regina. I doubt she’s sleeping either.”

Harry watched as Draco made his way up the stairs. “He’s worried.”

“So am I,” Sirius said. “Lucius is a formidable wizard. If he’s found someone new to follow or someone has recruited him, or if he’s decided to make trouble himself…it’s not good news.”

“Could we call Judgement on him?” asked Harry bluntly.

“Maybe,” Sirius shrugged. “I’m not sure if magic would consider his service to us during the Voldemort confrontation a balance for his broken oath. He did risk his life even if he really didn’t want to do it.”

Harry grimaced. “Should we try? Not for back then but for now? For him trying to kill Draco and Regina?”

“Let’s sleep on it?” suggested Sirius. “Maybe confer with Remus and Bertie. They may have some knowledge about Judgement that will let us know the most likely outcome.”

It was a good suggestion. Harry glanced up the stairs. “Do you want me to stay down here? I can have Dobby make up the sofa?”

Sirius shook his head. “We’ll be fine. Go and get some rest, Headmaster.”

Harry offered him a lazy salute and headed out, down the corredor to his own rooms and his own bed. He took one look at it, remembered the black lines attacking Draco on his, and shifted into his wolf form. He curled up to sleep on the rug in front of the fire.

o-O-o

“Albus will be horrified that you are talking with me.”

“It was either you or Tom and I really don’t want to talk to him,” Harry said.

They stood in a classroom in Hogwarts.

Gellert Grindelwald laughed as he sat back against the teacher’s desk, hands in his trouser pockets. He looked young and charming. Harry could see why a young Albus would have fallen in love with him.

“You want to understand the mind of a dark wizard,” Grindelwald stated.

“Malfoy tried to kill his children,” Harry said. “Who does that?”

“A man who feels betrayed and abandoned by them,” Grindelwald said simply, a hint of his Germanic accent coming through his words.

Harry sighed.

“You should have killed him,” Grindelwald continued. “He bowed down to the House of Black. He played his part in helping you survive. His reward was to be divorced from his wife, physically badly injured, and estranged from his children, especially his son. You should have killed him rather than leave him alive to plot and plan his vengeance.”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

“He is also an idiot to reveal himself now,” Grindelwald said. “You know he is your enemy again and can plan accordingly.”

“He wasn’t an idiot back when he led his faction,” Harry pointed out. The most idiotic thing he’d done was trying to use Riddle’s diary.

“So why does an intelligent wizard allow himself to be revealed as an enemy?” Grindelwald prompted, a keenness in his expression that disturbed Harry.

“Because he’s feeling confident,” Harry thought out loud.

“We must ask ourselves why he feels confident?” Grindelwald said.

Harry grimaced. “He thinks he’s got the upper hand.”

“You and your father are still powerful and he was exiled and powerless,” Grindelwald pointed at him, “which means…”

“He’s found someone he thinks is more powerful than us who will help him,” Harry deduced. It was proving to be a week of horrifying thoughts and realisations. He made for the classroom door.

“Come talk to me again,” Grindelwald called out behind him. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, Master of the Hallows.”

Harry closed the classroom door on the grinning Dark Lord and swore not to call upon him or any Dark Lord again.

o-O-o

23^rd December 2010

“What were you thinking?!” Sirius demanded.

“What you need is a war council,” Remus began, cutting in before Sirius could berate Harry further for talking with Grindelwald of all people.

Harry shot Remus a look of gratitude. It was a pattern which had been formed through their first few years together. Harry would do something, Sirius would get mad with worry mostly, and Remus would be the voice of sanity.

Sirius pointed at Remus, leaning back in his comfortable leather desk chair. “Good point, Moony.”

“A war council?” Harry frowned. “Isn’t it a little early to constitute a war council? There isn’t exactly a visible threat yet.”

“All the better,” Remus said, gesturing with his coffee cup from his usual seat in front of Sirius’ desk.

The Alpha werewolf looked good even if he was showing the signs of premature aging with the toll lycanthropy had taken on his body. His brown hair was mostly grey and there were fine lines of wrinkles criss-crossing his faint white facial scars.

“If you get your war council in place now, you might have a chance to avoid the battle you once saw,” Remus continued. “The future you saw is still a ‘might-be’ not a certainty.”

Harry exchanged a quick look with Sirius before he pushed out of his own usual chair – the one next to the desk rather than across from it – and paced to the window. He stared out at the starry evening sky.

“It’s not quite that simple, Remus,” Sirius murmured behind him. “What Harry experienced isn’t just a might-be future which can be avoided, it is a battlefield where he stood as Death’s Raven and I was there as Death’s Grim.”

“It will happen,” Harry said, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. He turned back to face them. “We know that much.”

“Then all the more reason for a war council now,” Remus said, a hint of frustration flickering over his expression.

Remus had researched for years trying to understand what being Death’s Raven and Grim really meant for Harry and Sirius’ lives. But there was little precedence recorded in wizarding lore, even less in muggle mythology, and they had accepted that they just did not know the true consequences beyond what they had already learned during their preparation for Voldemort. Harry was named Death’s Champion; the Raven on Death’s shoulder. Sirius was Death’s Grim who Death had given to Harry to love and protect him because the Grim had protested the sacrificing of an innocent.

“Talk me through it,” Harry said, walking back over and resuming his seat.

Remus set aside his coffee cup and clasped his hands together, clearing considering his words. “We set up the war council to best facilitate Sirius’ plan to take over the wizarding world…”

Harry and Sirius smirked in unison.

“…and that was best facilitated by bringing the key figures of the government onto the Council – the Minister, the Heads of the DMLE and the DOM, and Albus because he was a powerful wizard and someone who Voldemort feared.”

“Plus we needed to control him to an extent and having him on the Council meant we knew what he was up to mostly,” Sirius chipped in, leaning forward over the desk.

“That too,” Remus conceded. “We also had a part for everyone to play in the plan so that helped everyone feel that they had a point of view which contributed.”

Harry nodded. He understood that more at the age of thirty than he had at fifteen. Back then it had simply made sense to his teenage mind that Amelia had been in charge of tracking down the Death Eaters and Voldemort, Bertie had taken lead on the horcruxes, and Cornelius on helping Sirius and the Potter Alliance reshape the Wizengamot politics.

“I don’t have a plan,” he said out loud.

“Perhaps that’s where your Council should start,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “I was able to plan because I knew who the bad guy was, how he was keeping himself alive, and had theories about the prophecy and your role – all of which got confirmed early on. It gave me a framework.”

“I don’t have any of those things,” Harry pointed out.

“Don’t you?” Sirius arched an eyebrow. He pointed a finger at him. “You know more than you think you know.”

Harry grimaced and rubbed his chin. He hated thinking about the battlefield. “I know the king is fifteen when it happens. I know that he finds the sword…”

“The one which you used during the second task and threw back into the lake,” Remus interjected.

“Yes,” Harry acknowledged briefly. “I know Luna is pregnant and has returned earlier than she planned because something is beginning next year.” He scowled. “And we know Lucius Malfoy has chosen the other side and is actively trying to kill his children to give himself more power.”

Sirius tapped the desk lightly. “There’s your immediate reason.”

Harry nodded slowly. “We cloak this in responding to Lucius as a threat.”

“Sounds like the beginning of a plan,” Remus said brightly.

“The rest of the plan should probably be shaped by you with your Council,” Sirius said.

Harry tilted his head towards his father. “Are you not going to be part of my Council?”

“Are you inviting me?” asked Sirius grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“On a serious – do not make a joke!” Remus warned Sirius before turning back to Harry. “On a serious note, the membership of your Council probably needs to reflect your needs now.”

“I’ll always need you and Pads,” Harry said sincerely. “I value your advice.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a brief glance.

“We appreciate that, Harry, but you do know we can advise you without being part of your Council?” Sirius said softly but with a parental firmness that Harry recognised all too well.

“I know,” Harry gestured at Remus first, “but Remus is a prominent Alpha werewolf with one of the strongest packs in Europe, and you’re not just a schoolteacher – you’re Lord Black.” He held his father’s gaze. “You’re also Death’s Grim. We already know that you’ll be on the battlefield with me.”

“Where else would I be?” Sirius smiled at him.

“Right then,” Remus clapped his hands together drawing their attention. “We have the beginnings of a Council.”

“Good,” Sirius said, “because I’m definitely up for being on this Council if it will stop you from talking with Grindelwald. I mean, what were you thinking?”

Harry sighed.

o-O-o

“What were you thinking?” James Potter looks just as exasperated with Harry in his dream as Sirius had been in reality. Harry had longer ago realised that the familial resemblance in their facial features became more predominant when they were exasperated.

They were in a boys’ dorm room in the Gryffindor tower.

“I was thinking it would be useful to talk to a bad guy,” Harry threw up his hands and sat down on the bed which had once been his. “I don’t know! Lucius attacking Draco and Reggie made me a little crazy.”

“Or scared,” James suggested.

“Or scared,” Harry allowed.

His father sat down next to him and Harry leaned into James’ strength.

“They understand, you know,” James murmured. “They’re scared too.”

“I don’t think Narcissa is scared so much as furious,” Harry said dryly.

“Ah, well,” James winced, “who better than us to know that a mother protecting her child is a formidable threat. Lucius is probably underestimating her.”

“He always did,” Harry said.

“More fool him,” James said. He nudged Harry with his shoulder. “She would be a good member of your Council.”

“I’m beginning to think I need a castle to house the Council,” Harry joked, although there was more truth to his statement than he liked to think about. Between the four Hogwarts’ protectors, Hermione, Neville, Padfoot and Moony…he was already up to eight people. Sue could probably pull double duty and liaise with the DMLE but they probably should have someone from the DOM.

Not Snape. Never Snape.

By all accounts, Severus Snape was an excellent Unspeakable but Harry would never trust him.

“Hmmm. It’s good that you included Remus and Sirius,” James murmured. “Once a Marauder…”

“Always a Marauder,” Harry agreed. He sighed. “Isn’t it important to keep the Council small?”

James nudged him again. “Arthur had a Round Table with thirteen positions.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at the idea.

“Just a thought,” James said. He grinned suddenly and clapped his hands. “Now, enough of war.” He waggled his eyebrows. “What you really wanted to talk to me about was proposing to Hermione, right?”

Harry smiled and settled against his father to talk over his plans. It was going to be perfect.

o-O-o

24^th December 2010

Nothing was going to plan.

Harry grumbled under his breath as he climbed the stairs to his living quarters. He’d been woken far too early that morning by Hagrid claiming there was a delegation of centaurs who wanted to talk to him at the edge of the Forest.

Harry had spent the last five hours dealing with evermore cryptic statements which amounted to the fact that they knew something was coming and wanted to affirm their allegiance to Hogwarts.

Which was great.

He just wished it could have taken five minutes rather than five hours.

He took a deep breath as he neared the door. He’d missed Hermione’s arrival and had sent a Patronus to his father asking him to greet her in his stead and take her to Harry’s quarters so she could use the guest room and freshen up.

Hogwarts stirred in the portrait as he got closer. “Your mate is inside with the Trusted Ones.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied in parseltongue. He gave himself a brief moment to adjust his teacher’s black wizarding robe, to try to look less like he had been wrangling with centaurs for hours…and sighed heavily. He shook his head and opened his door.

The scene by the fire warmed him.

Hermione sat in an armchair looking just as stunningly beautiful as she had the last time he’d seen her. Her curly caramel hair was tamed into a classic chignon and her light make-up was immaculate bringing out the chocolate tone in her eyes. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks and she’d chewed her lipstick off as usual. She was warmly dressed in a Black tartan woollen dress with black ankle boots peeking out at the bottom.

The sofa was crowded with their friends – Ron, Luna, Sue, and Draco. Harry barely nodded to them as he stepped across the room.

Hermione got to her feet gracefully and met him half-way, their hands clasping together as they kissed each other hello, gently yet fiercely.

Harry eased back and drank in the sight of her. “Welcome home, Doctor Granger.”

Hermione’s lips twitched into a smile. “Headmaster Potter.”

“Could the pair of you be anymore nauseating?” Draco drawled.

“Oh, they can be,” Ron commented with a cheeky grin, “I’ve seen it.”

Hermione and Harry both shot their oldest friend a look.

Ron paled and sprang to his feet. “I have, uh, the thing to do?”

“Lunch?” suggest Luna brightly. She held out her hands and Ron hurriedly helped her wrestle her way out of the sofa. Her bright green dress with its layers of floaty organza swirled around her.

“Come by the infirmary later,” Hermione said firmly. “I’d like to get a full physical if I’m going to deliver the baby.”

Luna smiled sunnily, placing a hand on her enormous bump. “I will be there.” She chivvied Ron ahead of her as they made for the door.

Draco rose and offered his arm to Sue who took it. “We’ll leave you to your lunch.”

Sue grinned at Harry as she sailed past.

The door closed behind them leaving Harry alone with Hermione.

“I take it we’re not joining them?” asked Hermione, squeezing his hands gently.

“I had plans for lunch alone, just the two of us,” Harry admitted.

Hermione smiled. “I’d like that.”

It only took a moment to call for Dobby and the picnic basket; to summon the ring into his pocket.

He held her hand as they walked through the school to the Room of Requirement. Harry paced in front of the door briefly and when they entered they emerged onto the platform at Hogsmeade, the Hogwarts Express just in front of them.

“Are you re-enacting our first date?” asked Hermione with a bright laugh.

“Maybe,” Harry conceded with an answering smile.

He led her onto the train and into their compartment.

The picnic did mirror the lunch they’d had on that date; warm bread rolls, chicken salad, slices of apple pie for afters, all washed down with sparkling grape juice.

They caught up as they demolished the picnic. Hermione listened quietly, a faint line between her brows, as Harry talked through the events since Luna’s return.

“Really, Harry, Grindelwald?” Hermione said, gesturing at him with her glass. “What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know,” Harry said, waving his own glass at her. “I’ve already heard it from Remus and Sirius.”

“As much as I hate to say it though, I think Grindelwald was right,” Hermione mused. “We should never have left Lucius as a dangling thread.”

“Apparently we didn’t,” Harry motioned with his bread roll, “well, not entirely. Pads said they had a spy in the household staff for seven years until they retired and Narcissa had Kreacher weave monitoring spells into the wards on the estate up until Regina started at Hogwarts.”

Hermione blinked owlishly before giving a sharp nod. “That makes more sense.”

Harry sighed. “Perhaps we should have just given him a better outcome. He’d cooperated. He did help in the final confrontation…”

“Unwillingly,” Hermione pointed out.

“But still…” Harry grimaced. “I know he was self-serving but maybe if we hadn’t exiled him and found a different role for him here…”

“Maybe,” Hermione conceded, “but what’s done is done. That curse spell is awful. Draco mentioned he was trying to create a counter-amulet for him and Regina to wear as a shield when they’re outside of Hogwarts’ wards. I’ll see if I can help him with that.”

Harry smiled at her. That was his Hermione; brightest witch of their age. “I take it then that you’re sticking around at Hogwarts?”

Hermione nodded. “Luna’s asked me to stay as her doctor of record since she wants me to deliver the baby.”

Harry wasn’t surprised by that.

“She said everything would begin in the new year,” Hermione noted. She set her lunch plate aside and picked up her juice. “Do we know why the timeframe has come forward?”

Harry shook his head. “The magic involved with the enchantment around Arthur’s reawakening is pretty complex. Something must have happened to initiate it sooner than we had thought but I’m not sure what.” He pushed his empty plate into the picnic basket, scowling in remembrance. “The centaurs kept mumbling something about how Mars was moving across the heavens ahead of all the other stars in the sky.”

“Do we even know who the bad guy is?” asked Hermione bluntly.

Harry shook his head. “The prophecy says that Arthur reawakens to meet England’s greatest need but no other detail than that.”

“Bloody prophecies,” Hermione grumbled.

“You can say that again,” Harry sighed. He drank down a gulp of the juice.

Hermione reached out and snagged his hand, holding it firmly. “It disturbs you, doesn’t it? Another boy on a battlefield having to face their Fate?”

Trust Hermione to pick up on his underlying frustration, Harry mused. “He’s just a young boy even if he is a king.”

“And you have literally been in his shoes,” Hermione says gently.

Harry sighed again, heavier than before. “We know how much a fight against evil costs an innocent, I hate knowing I have to watch him go through what we did.”

Hermione squeezed his hand. “We’ll just have to make sure we do everything we can to protect him, the same way Sirius did for you.”

Harry squeezed her hand back.

“I should probably investigate Avalon,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “From what we know from my dreams and Luna’s Seeing, Morgana’s legacy has as much of a role to play as Merlin’s.”

“Life sent her Champion to walk beside Death’s,” Harry agreed. He couldn’t have fought Voldemort without her.

“I’ll talk with Helen about transitioning,” Hermione said. “I’ll take over fully in the next academic year, I think. That way I can spend the time this year getting to know the routine without the pressure of running the infirmary myself.”

She left unsaid that it would leave her time for her research and to begin to explore Avalon.

It made sense to Harry.

Hermione hummed. “I’m thinking if we get married late June that would be perfect, what do you think?”

“June sounds…” Harry stopped abruptly as her words registered fully. He snapped his gaze to meet hers.

She was smirking at him.

Harry pushed a hand through his hair. “Who gave the game away? It was Ron, wasn’t it?”

Hermione’s fingers twisted in his. “I think it’s probably easier to say who didn’t than who did. None of our families are very subtle.” She poked him in the ribs with her free hand. “So, I think you have something to ask me, Harry Potter.”

Harry shifted, keeping hold of her hand while positioning himself in the classic one-knee proposal position. The ring box floated out of the basket and into his free hand. He opened it to reveal the ring.

“Hermione Granger, I love you,” Harry began, the speech he’d prepared deserting his mind. “I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you there. Will you marry me?”

“Oh Harry!” Hermione’s warm brown eyes gleamed with tears. “I can’t imagine my life without you either! Yes, yes, yes!”

She threw herself forward and Harry caught her. They held each other tightly for a long moment before Hermione pulled away and offered her splayed hand, wiggling her fingers pointedly.

Harry grinned and placed the Potter ring on her finger, lifting her hand to kiss it almost reverently.

Hermione leaned forward to capture his lips with hers.

Their kiss was as sweet and loving as the first time.

They parted grinning at each other inanely.

“When do you have to go back to work?” asked Hermione.

“Not for a while,” Harry said.

“Well, then, Headmaster, I feel like we have fallen badly out of the practice of kissing and should do that some more,” Hermione teased.

Harry swooped to kiss her again.

And again.

Everything had gone perfectly to plan, after all.

o-O-o

Harry had no idea where he was only that he was certain it was somewhere he had never been. He stood in an orchard of apples, pink blossom on the trees. In the distance there was the sound of lake water lapping on a rocky shore.

“Welcome to Avalon and the Isles of Apples, Harry, child of Merlin.”

Harry spun around.

Morgana Le Fey sat behind him on a white wooden bench. Her silver robes flowed around her in a swirl of magic; her dark hair was caught in an up-do but tendrils escaped and fell around her face, emphasising her high cheekbones and dark eyes.

Harry bowed his head to her. “I’m honoured to visit, Lady Morgana of the line of Le Fey.”

“You will also be welcome here, Harry,” Morgana smiled at him. “You carry my blessing and your wife is of Avalon.”

“You chose her in the ceremony to stand beside me because I loved her,” Harry murmured. He’d always felt a little guilty about that.

“No,” Morgana said softly, “Hermione chose to stand beside you herself because she loved you and where there is love there is life.”

Harry nodded slowly, feeling in a way that he never had before that it was the truth.

“She loves you still, chooses you still just as you choose her,” Morgana continued. “She will help you protect the king as I helped Merlin. Wiccan magic will be born again with her.”

Harry smiled. “I’ll help her.”

Morgana rose from the bench and approached him. “Never forget love is your heart and spirit.”

She leaned forward and kissed him briefly on the forehead. It was icy and cold but the buzz of her magic even in the dream was powerful.

“Carry my blessing, Harry, child of Merlin, and know that it and the woman you love are your shield against the coming storm.”

Morgana stepped back from Harry and disappeared into a cascade of silver magic.

o-O-o

Epilogue: 1^st January 2011

“Push!” Hermione instructed Luna firmly from the end of the bed. “You’re almost there, Luna!”

Luna grimaced, swiping at sweat on her brow with her free hand. Her fair was stuck to her forehead. Poppy Pomfrey stepped up to gently cleanse her face before stepping away again.

Harry held onto Luna’s other hand as she bore down with a grunt. He wondered again how Hermione and Luna had talked him into being there, but then if Luna needed him to be with her…

“That’s it, Luna! That’s it!” Hermione crowed.

“Argh!” Luna cried out suddenly and slumped back against the mountain of pillows.

A cry rent the air, strong and loud.

Harry began to grin. He gently squeezed Luna’s fingers. “You have a baby, Luna!”

Luna gave a hiccupping laugh, her gaze fixated to her child. He was held firmly by Hermione who was cleaning him up a little at the same time as taking magical diagnostics of his health, weight and measurements.

“You have a son, Luna,” Hermione said brightly.

In the moment she walked around the bed, Poppy and Harry helped Luna sit up a little better against the pillows.

Hermione placed the clean baby wrapped in a yellow blanket in Luna’s waiting arms. She moved back and slid an arm around Harry’s waist as they stood next to the bed watching Luna greet her child.

The baby’s magic reached out to his mother and Harry shivered at the familiarity of it.

Cedric.

Hermione reached up and kissed Harry’s stubbly cheek before she slipped away to finish seeing to Luna’s treatment, magically dealing with the afterbirth and other messy details which Harry preferred not to dwell upon.

Luna turned to Harry. “Come and meet Caradoc, Harry.”

“Caradoc?” Harry offered his little finger and smiled as the baby’s tiny fingers reached out to grasp it.

“Caradoc,” Luna said firmly.

“Suits him,” Harry said. “Congratulations, Luna.” He gently touched Caradoc’s cheek. “Welcome back to Hogwarts,” he whispered.

Luna smiled at him as she adjusted her hold, cuddling her child even closer. “The awakening has begun. He is the first.”

“He heralds the king,” Harry said, the words springing forward as though a prophecy of their own.

Luna nodded. “Will you go and tell the others Caradoc is here? They can visit briefly but then I think I want to simply stare at my baby.”

Harry smiled at her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re a warrior, Luna.”

“Of course I am,” she smiled at him, “I’m a mother.” Her laugh followed him out of the room.

o-O-o

The shining white towers of Camelot reached towards a clear blue sky. Harry could feel the caress of the sun against his skin. His bare feet sank into damp grass beside the lapping waters of the lake. Across the water he could see the faint shape of Avalon hiding in the mist.

By the water a group of children played tag, their happy shrieks of laughter carrying on the wind. A young blond boy held aloft a wooden sword atop a boulder before darting off into a puddle of light, all the others following in his wake.

Harry smiled at the sight of them before the knowledge of what was ahead of the innocent souls pressed his lips together in a frown.

“It is their time to wake; do not grieve for them.”

Harry spun around to find Merlin just behind him.

Merlin wore his usual plain brown wizarding robe and carried his staff. His dark hair was caught back in a long braid, and his amber eyes gleamed with the power of his magic.

“I know what they face,” Harry countered.

“They face no more than you did yourself,” Merlin pointed out.

Harry grimaced. “That’s why I grieve for them.”

Merlin placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Ah, but you know the power which can save them.”

“Love,” Harry whispered.

Merlin turned his gaze back to the playing children. “It is part of the fabric of our world, Harry; where there is love there is life.”

Harry sighed. “I still wish there was another way.”

Merlin smiled, his form flickering silver and gold before he dissolved in a cascade of magic. “Know that anything is possible in Avalon. Guide our King well, my child. He is yours to protect now.”

o-O-o

“Another dream?” Hermione offered him a mug of hot chocolate as she came to stand beside him on the tower roof. She tutted and cast a warming spell even though they were both bundled up in woollen coats over their sleepwear, fluffy socks and boots on their feet, Gryffindor scarves around their necks.

Harry lifted his arm and she dived into the space to cuddle into his side. “I think that will be the last for a while.”

“Who was it this time?” asked Hermione.

“Merlin,” Harry answered succinctly. He took a sip of the warming chocolate. “Arthur’s spirit will awaken in the world soon.”

“Caradoc’s the beginning,” Hermione murmured.

“Yes,” Harry agreed, “he’ll be Arthur’s most faithful of knights.”

Hermione pressed into him. “They won’t be alone. We’ll protect them, Harry.”

“We will,” Harry said. He raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckles, his thumb brushing over the ring he’d given her. “We’ll protect them together.”

A wind brushed by him the scent of lilies perfumed the air; the familiar comfort of the Potter and Black magic swirled around him, comforting him like the most perfect hug of a loved one.

It was time, Harry considered wryly, for another Marauder’s plan.

fin.

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