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The Refiner's Fire | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 618 Summary: In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based with some OC. HG, RHr, RT. Hitcount: Story Total: 381551; Chapter Total: 14395 |
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DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Author notes: Many thanks to Kelpie, my brilliant Brit-picker, and to Blakevich, Starfox, Iris, Asad, Shawn and Pilar for beta reading! “Effrondrement” is French for “collapse” as in “decomposition.” You’ll understand when you see how it’s used in the chapter. You can join the Yahoo! Group for this fic at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPRef inersFire “She didn’t know you?” Ginny repeated, stunned. “No!” Ron sobbed, turning and burying his face in his sister’s shoulder. Harry rubbed Ron’s back, not knowing what else to do. “It will be all right, mate. It’s probably a temporary thing. She did have a head wound, after all.” Ron sat back and looked at Harry. “You think?” “Yeah. She’ll be fine soon,” Harry assured him. “Would you look at her?” Ron asked Harry, his eyes wide and anxious. Harry looked up at the Grangers, who didn’t seem to know what to think about what was going on. “Um. . .” “Harry, please!” Ron begged. “OK, if her parents agree,” Harry said quietly. He looked up at the Grangers. “Remus told you I’m a powerful wizard. One of my skills is healing. I’m not a trained healer, but I have a talent for healing some kinds of injuries. Would you mind if I tried working on her?” “Will it hurt her?” “No. What happens is, I can sense a ‘wrongness’ where there’s an injury, and sometimes I can heal it, or at least make it better. There are no potions involved, and nothing invasive, just me laying my hands on her and concentrating my magic inside her. Maybe I can do something to help her this way,” he said modestly. “You can heal people?” Mrs. Granger said in shock. “Sometimes.” “Then why didn’t you heal her right away?” “I didn’t know what was wrong with her, and our nurse was right beside us, and . . .” he ended lamely. “Harry was injured, too,” Ginny snapped indignantly, defending him. “He collapsed on the floor! The nurse and healer were both busy with Hermione and Professor Sinistra, and Harry had to heal himself! By the time he’d done that, the healer from St. Mungo’s was already making arrangements to move them here.” “Oh,” Mrs. Granger said in a small voice, intimidated by the fiery redhead’s flash of temper. “OK.” “I’m sorry I yelled,” Ginny said more quietly. “I know you’re worried about her. I am too. She’s my best friend.” “I know she is, dear,” Mrs. Granger said with a small smile. “So may I?” Harry asked again. “Yes, please. If you can do something to help her, we’d appreciate it,” Mr. Granger said. He and his wife held on to each other nervously as they watched the young man work. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and tenderly smoothed Hermione’s curls away from her face. “Hi, Hermione. It’s Harry. How are you?” he said quietly. “I’ve missed you. We all have. We’ve finished school now, and we’re having a good time just hanging around, wading in the lake, feeding the squid, lying in the sun. It’s great. You should be there with us.” As he spoke of inconsequential things, his hands moved over her face, head, neck and torso. Finally, he put his hands on either side of her head and began rubbing her temples with his thumbs, still chatting away as if they were sitting at lunch in the Great Hall. “Ron misses you terribly. He has a present for you. You really should see it, it’s beautiful. He spent a lot of time looking for it. I think you’ll like it, but you have to wake up now and talk to him or he won’t give it to you.” His hands were sensing something resembling clouds inside her head, dark and stormy with pink and orange edges here and there. He was doing what he could to dissipate those clouds so Hermione’s own clear, shining mind could break free. “Ginny’s here, too. She’s missed you a lot. She’s had to have her girl talks with me since you’ve been gone, think of that! I had to listen to her prattle on about Parvati’s new robes that she got for her birthday.” He chuckled and winked at Ginny, who smiled back at him. “I didn’t mind listening, mind you, but I couldn’t give her the kind of opinion she was looking for — the kind you’d give her. And she tried doing her hair a different way this morning. I like it down so I can play with it, but she likes trying different things, and I think they’re all pretty. She wanted your opinion, but you weren’t there.” He’d run out of chatter and decided to say something that might bother her enough to wake her up and get her back to normal, much as Ron had done when Harry was sick and Ron said he was taking Harry’s Firebolt out to play Quidditch if Harry didn’t wake up. All the while, Harry rubbed her temples with his thumbs. “C’mon, Hermione, wake up! We’re all going to fail our exams if you don’t wake up and help us study!” She lay quiet, still and unresponsive. Harry glanced up at his friends and shrugged. “It was worth a try.” They nodded sadly. He continued to concentrate on the cloudiness in her mind, working in silence for a while. “There,” he said suddenly, a small smile crossing his face. “What?” Ron said hopefully. “The clouds in her mind have finally thinned a bit,” Harry said with satisfaction. He sat back and shook out his hands, then pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes tiredly before putting his hands back on either side of Hermione’s head. What he was doing took a lot of his energy. “It’s time to wake up now, Hermione,” he said in a firm voice. “You can do it. Wake up!” With a small gasp, Hermione woke up. “What? Where?” she whispered, her eyes darting around frantically. “Hi, Hermione! Welcome back!” Harry said with a huge grin. “Your parents are here. Ron and Ginny and Remus are here too. How are you feeling?” “Huh? Who?” She looked at all the loving faces around her, recognizing her parents. “Hi, Mum. What happened to me?” “You were in an accident,” her mother said quickly, not knowing what else to say. “You’re going to be fine.” “Hi, Dad,” she said, reaching out to her father. She looked back up at Harry, studying his face with fierce concentration. “I know you.” “Of course you do! We’re best friends!” he said, hoping her memory was coming back. “You’re. . .the Boy Who Lived. I’ve read all about you!” she said with a smile. “You’re Harry Potter!” “Yeah. And we’ve known each other for years now. Do you remember?” “I’ve always loved you, you know, ever since I first read about you,” she said, blushing a little. “OK, that’s enough of that,” he said uncomfortably. “Ron’s here,” he added, moving off of her bed so she could see Ron, who sat down on the edge of the bed. “Who? Who are you?” she said, looking at Ron closely. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been crying.” “Don’t you remember me?” Ron said, his face showing how hurt he was. “You’re my girlfriend. We’ve been friends for years and years, and this term we’ve been going out together.” He leaned closer to her, one finger gently touching the curls splayed across her pillow, and whispered. “We love each other. Don’t you remember?” “No,” she said in a small, scared voice. “I remember him,” she said, pointing at Harry. “I remember kissing him. In an empty classroom.” “Oh no,” Harry groaned. “She’s remembering when she was under Bellatrix’s spell.” “She kissed you?” her mother said. “That was the time she put poison under my skin. I told you about that,” Harry explained patiently. “Poison? Why would I poison you? I love you!” Hermione said, her eyes going quickly from alarmed at being told she’d tried to poison him, to dreamy and love-sick as she gazed at Harry. Harry looked at Remus. “What do we do now?” “I’ll go and get that healer who specializes in undoing Dark magic. He may be able to help her more now that she’s awake,” Remus said. He patted Ron on the shoulder and leaned down to whisper, “She’ll be all right soon. Don’t let this bother you, OK?” in his ear before leaving. Ron nodded, his face still heartbroken. “Harry, I know you love me,” Hermione said, her eyes bright. “Erm. . .I love you as a friend — as a sister, even. But Ginny’s my girlfriend,” he said, lifting his arm to pull Ginny close to him, keeping her wrapped tightly in his one-armed embrace. “You know that. She and I have been together nearly all term.” “Well, longer, if you count the time we were pretending to be going out to keep the fan girls away from you,” Ginny added, looking up at Harry with eyes full of love. Harry reached up with his left hand to tuck a strand of Ginny’s hair behind her ear. His ring caught the light. Seeing this, Hermione’s eyes flew to Ginny’s left hand, the thumb of which was tucked into Harry’s front belt loop, her arm around his slim waist. She moved a bit, and her ring sparkled. Hermione’s eyes widened in horror. “Your rings. . .are you married?” Harry smiled and blushed. He glanced at Hermione, but then he looked down at Ginny, his love for her showing plainly in his face. “No, not yet. These are promise rings.” “Promise rings?” Hermione said, her face confused. “They mean. . . ,” Harry began, gazing into Ginny’s eyes and saying what had never been said aloud before, “they mean we’re engaged to be engaged.” He blushed again as he said this, but smiled delightedly at Ginny, who was beaming up at him. Hermione burst into tears. “NOOOO! You love me! I’m sure you do! I love you, Harry! How can you do this to me?” He sighed and looked at his best friend seriously. “You were put under a spell by Bellatrix Lestrange that made you break up with Ron and try to seduce me.” He glanced up guiltily at her parents as soon as he said this, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. His eyes roved to Ron’s, taking in his heartbroken expression, then quickly back to Hermione’s confused face. “You were kissing me and scratching me, remember? You put poison capsules in my skin that made me sick. It was a spell. Dumbledore and I had to break you free of it.” He looked at Ron as he realized what needed to be done. “That’s it. We need Dumbledore here so we can fix this again.” “But it was fixed before and she’s right back there again, in the middle of that spell!” Ron cried. “How can that be?” The healer arrived just as Ron said this. “From what Professor Lupin just told me, she’s showing signs of a Dark spell she was under earlier this year, yes?” Harry nodded. “And the spell that hit her the other night was orange with a tint of pink, I was told?” Harry nodded again. “All right. What we have here is a spell cast by an inept wizard.” “Malfoy,” Harry snarled. “The spell should have been pure orange. The tint of pink showed the spell was inexpertly cast. As such, the spell he cast could very well have re-started a spell she was under before.” “Professor Dumbledore and I took a spell off her months ago,” Harry insisted. “What kind of spell was it?” Bradford asked. “A love spell,” Harry replied promptly. “Some part of it must have been lying dormant within her. It’s helpful to know what kind of spell that was. We took care of her recent spell damage as well as we could with her being unconscious. With this new information, it will be a simple matter to cure her.” He looked up at Harry’s sceptical face. “I know how to treat this, don’t worry,” the healer assured him. “Where’s Healer Pomfrey? I’d like to talk to him,” Harry said. “If you go to the desk in the corridor, they can send for him,” the healer said, bending over Hermione’s bed. “Remus,” Harry said in a low voice, “do you trust this bloke?” “He’s the one who’s been treating Hermione,” Remus said. “At least, that’s what I was told.” “I’m going to find Healer Pomfrey and get a password for him. A lot could go wrong here if he isn’t who he says he is,” Harry whispered. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said to the others, and left the room. A short time later, he returned with Healer Pomfrey in tow. “Bradford,” Marcus said, “May I have a word, please?” “All right,” the other healer said. He left Hermione’s bedside and conferred with Marcus on the other side of the room. Bradford laughed and answered Marcus’s question readily, and then they returned to Hermione’s bedside. “Mr. Potter, after the year you’ve had — I read all about it in the Daily Prophet — I don’t blame you for being cautious.” “He’s Bradford, all right,” Marcus said with a smile. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a password set up to start with so you’d be assured your friend was safe.” “That’s OK,” Harry said with a shrug. “I just wanted to be sure.” “No problem,” Marcus said. “She’s awake now? That’s wonderful.” Bradford filled Pomfrey in on what was going on with Hermione. “I’d love to watch you work on her,” Marcus said. “I’m trying to learn more about curing Dark spells.” “Stay and watch,” Bradford invited. “All right now, Miss Granger, this won’t hurt a bit.” He pulled a large quartz crystal out of his pocket and held it inches away from her body, tracing the outlines of her body with the crystal, then moving over the rest of her body in a grid-like pattern. He held it flat in his hand, using a spell similar to the Point Me spell Harry had used in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. They all watched the crystal point him to areas of injury or illness. Once it pointed him in the right direction, he held the crystal over the indicated areas. The crystal glowed orange twice, once by her chest, and once by her head. The crystal’s orange glow when it was by her head had a pinkish edge to it. Bradford turned the crystal different ways and the pink actually concentrated and shot out of the crystal, hitting the wall and making both healers jump back. “Hmmm. Interesting,” Bradford murmured. “What was that?” Mr. Granger asked nervously. “That was an echo of an extremely powerful enchantment,” Bradford explained. “You said someone put a love spell on Miss Granger in the last few months?” “Yes,” Harry replied. “At least, I think it was a love spell. Bellatrix Lestrange put an enchantment on her to make her break up with her boyfriend,” he gestured at Ron, “and seduce me, in order to poison me. Remus researched it, and found it was called the Black Widow Curse.” Bradford raised an eyebrow at this explanation, looking from Harry’s earnest face to Ron’s grieving one. “The Black Widow? That’s a rare one. And those two are in love, right?” he said, indicating Hermione and Ron. Harry nodded. “I see. Then Lestrange had to use a very powerful spell to overcome it. That’s probably why there are still remnants of it in her system.” He moved his crystal over Hermione’s body a while longer, then turned to look at Harry again. “Lestrange is a Death Eater, right?” “She was. She’s dead now,” Harry answered cautiously. “She was one of Voldemort’s most valued people.” “How do you know this?” Bradford asked conversationally, going back to examining Hermione. “Voldemort told me once, and Bellatrix told me another time.” Bradford straightened up and looked at Harry, his eyes wide. “You’ve talked to him? In person?” The question caught him off guard — he had no idea what to say other than, “Yes, of course!” Remus stepped in. “Harry has faced Voldemort five times before this school term, and twice this term. Voldemort is a braggart and likes to taunt his victims while he’s attacking them. Harry doesn’t stand still for the attacks like most people do. He fights back, which seems to amuse Voldemort until Harry gets the better of him or escapes. So yes, they converse. In person,” he said sternly, his tone warning the healer to watch his step. Bradford stood looking at Harry in amazement for a few moments. “I’ve read all the reports, you know. I’ve read everything I could find on You-Know-Who and. . .” “Say the name,” Harry snapped. “Voldemort. Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself.” “OK,” the healer amended, “V-v-voldemort. I’ve read everything I could find on him, and on you, Mr. Potter, trying to learn as much as I could about Dark magic so I could heal people who are victims of it.” Harry was livid now. “Why were you studying ME if you wanted to study Dark magic? I’m no Dark wizard!” “I know that! I’m sorry. I just meant. . .” “Can we please get back to Hermione? You lot can have your little chat later,” Ron snarled suddenly. “Yes. Yes, of course,” Bradford said. He examined Hermione a bit longer, then turned cautiously to Harry again. “I do need to talk to you about these spells she’s under. You witnessed both spells?” “I saw the effects of the spell Lestrange put on her, yes, and I saw Malfoy cast his spell the other night.” “How was this love spell removed in the first place?” Harry explained how he and Dumbledore had removed the spell, and that they’d seen it leave her body. “What did it look like?” “It was misty-looking, like, um. . .like fog at sunset, grey with a rosy glow to it.” “Ah-ha. That’s it, then,” Bradford said, his eyes gleaming in satisfaction. “Do you know what to do?” Ron asked fearfully. “Yes, I know what to do. She just has an echo of the spell that’s been awakened by the badly cast spell that hit her.” “How can that be? We took the spell off of her,” Harry said, confused. “It left her more susceptible to other spells, just as your resistance might be down after certain kinds of illness. That’s what I mean by an echo. It’s difficult to explain, but I can take care of this now that I know what happened before. I’ll have her fixed up in no time.” He and Marcus moved to the door, talking quietly. They looked back at the gathered people around Hermione’s bed and waved. “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Bradford said cheerfully. “D’you trust that guy?” Ron asked Harry. “I don’t know. It’s just creepy that he’s been studying me while researching Dark magic,” Harry grumbled. Before long, the two healers returned, bearing two flagons of potion and a small crystal ball. “All right, Miss Granger. Take these potions, and then we’ll see how you are,” Bradford said. “What potions are those?” Ginny asked. “One is an anti-love-enchantment potion, the other neutralizes that orange spell.” “What was that spell, anyway?” Harry asked. “It’s a very dark spell called the Effrondrement Hex. It makes the victim’s organs collapse, starting with the lungs. It’s a slow, painful death, because the spell partially collapses the lungs first, then keeps them working just enough to keep the victim alive while the other organs decompose within the living body, simply so he can suffer longer. A nasty spell indeed. That’s why she was having trouble breathing at first.” Seeing the horrified looks around him, he hastened to add, “The wizard who cast this spell did it wrong, so her organs weren’t truly decomposing. They were just not working properly. We got that problem corrected right away. It was this love spell that was complicating things so she wasn’t healing quickly.” “She’s going to be all right, though, right?” Harry asked anxiously. “If you hadn’t brought her to the hospital wing as fast as you did, and then transferred her here so soon, she’d be in much worse shape. She’s young, healthy and strong, so she will be herself very soon. But the best thing for her was the fact that the wizard who cast the spell did it poorly.” “I never thought I’d say ‘hooray for Malfoy,’ but in this case. . .” Harry said with a grim expression. “Yeah,” Ron agreed morosely. “If I ever see that git, I’ll kill him,” he said quite seriously. “Not if I see him first,” Harry replied darkly. He sensed a sudden tension in the Grangers. They were horrified. Harry had, after all, killed people before. He looked up at them and tried to smile. “I was kidding, you know. Ron needed cheering up.” Forcing himself to be calm, he tried to behave as if he was still the innocent boy they’d thought he was until a short time ago. He watched them, keeping his face soft and friendly, until they relaxed a bit. Ah well, I suppose that, to them, I’ll always be the murderous nutter their daughter hangs out with, he thought sadly. A few minutes after Hermione took the two potions, Bradford held the crystal ball over her. “Oh, please, you’re not into Divination, are you?” Hermione said with a sarcastic sneer. “Hey, she sounds more like herself already!” Harry said with a delighted laugh. “No, I’m not into Divination, although I can tell your future easily enough,” Bradford said with a chuckle as he studied the crystal ball. “Whatever do you mean?” Hermione sniffed disdainfully as she watched the man use the crystal ball. “I mean, your future holds you getting completely well by tonight, and having a lovely snogging session with your boyfriend Ron, here, to make up for breaking his heart when you told him you loved Harry.” “What?” She looked astonished for a moment, then shook her head. “Well, of course, I do love Harry dearly, but he’s like a brother to me! But I’m in love with Ron. He’s my boyfriend,” she said, looking past the healer and seeing Ron sit up suddenly, his face alight with joy. She glanced up at Harry and saw with great surprise that he was equally happy. “I didn’t. . .did I?” “Welcome back,” Harry said, grinning hugely. He glanced at Ron, who had taken Hermione’s hand in his and bowed his head over it in relief. He pressed his forehead to the back of it, then turned it over to kiss the palm tenderly. He lifted his face and looked at her, his heart in his eyes. He couldn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, her eyes full of love. “Do you remember me now?” Ron said after a long moment, his voice breaking with emotion. “Yes, of course, I remember you! I don’t understand what happened, but I’d never forget you, dear Ronny,” she said softly. Ron sighed and held her hand to his cheek. Now wasn’t the time for involved explanations. “It’s good to have you back,” he said tenderly. Ginny had stood up to look into the crystal ball, which the healer was still holding over Hermione’s body. “What’s that telling you?” she asked Bradford. He held it where she could also see inside the sphere. “Do you see the movement inside the crystal?” “Yes.” “What’s it look like to you?” “Clear, light, thin clouds.” “Well spotted! That means there are no Dark spells on her. When I used the crystal point, you saw how it flashed colours, right?” Ginny nodded. “That showed me the type of spell she was under, and where it hit her. Something went wrong with that spell and it hit her in more than one place. Mr. Potter said there was only the one orange spell, right, Mr. Potter?” he said, turning to look at Harry, who nodded. “So the crystal lighting orange in two locations means the spell was badly aimed and inaccurately cast, which is good, in this case. If he’d done it well, she would have suffered a very painful death with no way to stop it.” He stopped and smiled at Hermione, who had gasped when she heard this. “You’re going to be fine, Miss Granger, don’t worry,” he assured her. “So, back to the crystals. This crystal ball is more of a general diagnostic tool than the crystal point. It scans her entire body and shows me if she’s ill or injured anywhere, things the crystal point might have missed. The crystal point is specific for spell damage. It shows me where she’s been hit with spells and what kind of spells she’s suffering from. So between the two of them, I find your friend to be in very good health!” “Wow, that’s cool,” Ginny breathed. “I haven’t seen a healer use crystals like that before.” “It’s something I learned in Rumania, actually. I’ve travelled all over studying how to heal people who have been attacked with Dark spells. Rumania, Albania, China and the Middle East, as well as northern Africa, are rich in lore for combating Dark spells.” “They are?” Harry said with interest. “Maybe I should go there to study,” he said to Remus. “Where’s the Auror’s school, anyway?” “In London. And I think the Auror’s school should come first, then these overseas studies,” Remus suggested. “That way, you’ll have a better understanding of what you learn there.” “I agree,” Bradford said. “Going there without more schooling than Hogwarts can give you — you’d probably get confused about a lot of things, because those places are also the centres of Dark magic in the world. It’s easier for you to learn to combat those spells if you have more of a background before going to these places, both for your education’s sake and your safety. They are not safe places to visit unprepared.” “Still. . .,” Harry said thoughtfully. “It sounds interesting.” He saw the concerned look on Remus’s face and added, “But I won’t just rush over there, don’t worry.” Remus smiled. “That’s good to know. Tell you what, Harry. You and I will plan a trip to Rumania. We can visit Charlie and the dragons, then do some research while we’re there.” Harry’s face lit up. “Over the summer holiday? This summer?” “Maybe. I’ll have to see how my schedule works out, and what Albus thinks about it. It will be useful for my teaching, as well as for your study, but we do need to keep you safe, and you’re education isn’t complete yet. Healer Bradford was right about it being best if you’re fully prepared before going to such places.” “But if I’m with you. . . ,” Harry said, wheedling Remus a bit. He relented when he saw the twinkle in Remus’s eye. Remus knew exactly what Harry was doing and was amused by it, but he was also very protective of his godson. They wouldn’t go on a trip like that until Remus felt it was safe enough to do so. Remus looked at his watch. “We’ve been here quite a while. We’re going to tire Hermione out, and her parents would probably like more time with her. Let’s go back to school, all right?” He stood and shook hands with the Grangers and the healers. “Thank you for allowing us to spend so much time with Hermione. It was very nice to meet you.” “Thank you for coming,” Mr. Granger said as he shook hands all around, “and for being such good friends to our daughter.” “Will you be coming back to school, or going home with your parents?” Ginny asked Hermione. Ron’s face fell at Ginny’s words. “’Mione? You’re coming back to school, aren’t you?” “School’s finished for the year, isn’t it?” Mrs. Granger said. “She can rest better at home.” “Oh, no! I don’t want to miss the Leaving Feast!” Hermione said anxiously. “Please let me go back to school, Mum! Please?” “Well. . .,” her mother said cautiously, “if the healer says it’s all right.” “It’s fine, as long as she gets enough rest,” Bradford said, amused at the glee on Hermione and Ron’s faces. “When can I leave here?” she asked Bradford. “You’ll be released this evening, if you rest well all afternoon and promise not to do anything too strenuous the next couple of days.” “Define ‘strenuous.’” Hermione said. “What am I not allowed to do?” “Don’t run any races. Don’t lift anything heavy. Try to get as much rest as you can,” the healer replied. “OK, I can do that,” she agreed with a smile, her eyes twinkling as she glanced at Ron. “Get out of here, you lot, so I can get back to school sooner!” Ron glanced at her parents uneasily, blushed madly, then took a deep, steadying breath and leaned over her bed to kiss her goodbye. She wrapped her arms around him and held the kiss for a long moment, then pulled him down into a hug. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear. “I love you too. Get well!” he said, kissing her again before straightening up. With a final wave, Remus, Harry, Ginny and a still-blushing Ron left Hermione’s room. “What do you want to do this afternoon?” Harry asked Ron and Ginny as they entered the Common Room after returning from the hospital. Ginny held Harry’s hand in both of hers, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. “I know what I’d like to do.” “You two go on,” Ron said. “Are you sure?” Harry asked. “Yeah,” Ron said with a grin. “’Mione will be back soon. You guys go and have fun.” “Right!” Harry replied. “Be right back,” he said to Ginny as he raced up to his room and retrieved the Invisibility Cloak. Soon they were racing along the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack, laughing and teasing each other as they ran. Harry lifted the trapdoor carefully, checking to make sure the Shack was empty and undisturbed, then helped Ginny the rest of the way up the ladder. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, making her snort with laughter after her initial grunt when she landed on his shoulder. He raced up the stairs to the bedroom, deposited her unceremoniously on the bed, then pulled off her shoes and socks, tickling her toes and kissing the top of each foot, making her giggle. He took off his socks and shoes and flopped down next to her, his long knobbly toes tickling the soles of her dainty feet as he propped his head up on his hand. His other hand had its own job to do. Soon it was trailing his fingers softly around her face, gently stroking each cheek, sketching the arch of her nose, the flare of her nostrils, the curve of her lips, the roundness of her chin before wandering down the front of her throat, tracing her collarbones delicately, then heading further south, carefully wandering around the lovely mounds of her breasts. Her breath was already coming in gasps. “What brings you here, m’lady?” he teased, trying to move slowly, deliciously, so they could enjoy themselves as long as possible. His heart was already pounding, his breathing quickened as his excitement rose. She could only stand such torture so long. She wanted to play too, not just be the plaything. “What brings me here? You!” she cried, jumping on him and rolling him onto his back, then straddling his chest. She pushed his hands over his head and down to the pillow. “I’ve got you now, Potter. You can’t get away from me,” she laughed, then leaned down and tickled the end of his nose with the tip of her tongue. “Got your nose,” she teased. “And you’re welcome to it!” he replied amiably. “What else would you like?” “Hmmm. That dimple looks tasty,” she said, licking it delicately before kissing it, then chewing on it a bit. She raised up and looked at him, her eyes full of love, then removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table before going determinedly back to work on his dimple. “Hungry, are you?” he laughed. “Yes,” she replied, attacking his ear next. She nibbled that a while, releasing his hands so she could balance herself better. She found that releasing his hands had other benefits as well. He slid his hands up her back over her t-shirt, expertly undoing her bra through the fabric. “Ah, what’s this?” he joked as his hands found their way under her shirt and onto her breasts. “Lovely little mountains. Or are they lovely melons? Either way. . . . Hmm. Nice.” His hands cupped her breasts gently, slowly gliding over their soft mounds, tantalizing her to the point of interrupting her exploration of his other ear. “What do you think you’re doing, sir?” she said with a throaty chuckle. “Oh! Yeah,” she sighed as his hands continued their gentle investigation of her anatomy. She moaned in pleasure, then had to sit up as he pushed her t-shirt over her shoulders. “Yeah, let’s get rid of that,” she agreed, pulling it over her head. “And let’s get rid of yours, too.” He sat up and let her take his t-shirt off slowly, her hands and lips tracing delicious patterns on his body as she did so. She sat up and pulled him off the bed, undoing his belt and zipper, pushing his jeans and boxers down more urgently than she’d done with his shirt. He finished undressing her, then stood still, watching as she covered his body with kisses, her tongue tickling his chest and ribs, then his belly button, while his hands fondled her breasts. “I’ve neglected your back,” she said suddenly, darting behind him and renewing her kissing exploration of his body. “Mmmm, you’re so tasty,” she said with a throaty chuckle as her lips ran trails of fire down his back. She knew he was self-conscious about his scars, and that they continued to be painful. They were still so livid, still raised up in huge welts, ugly trespasses on the beauty of his body. She kissed them gently, giving them the same consideration she was giving the rest of him, letting him know she loved every inch of him. How can she stand it? he wondered uneasily. They’re horrible. I know what I look like. “You don’t have to do that,” he said in a tense voice. “They’re gross.” “They’re part of you, and I love you,” she countered, giving the biggest scar a long, lascivious lick. “Am I hurting you?” she said in sudden concern. “No. But they’re hideous. I don’t see how you can do that.” He shivered. “Don’t, Ginny. You shouldn’t have to even look at them.” Suddenly she was standing in front of him, shaking a finger under his startled nose. “You cannot tell me what I should and shouldn’t look at, Mr. Potter! I will kiss what I want to, so there!” She studied his face a moment, seeing the anguish in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said immediately. “No, it’s not. . .I’m not. . . .” He didn’t know what to say. “Did I hurt you?” she asked quietly. “No.” “Did it feel good?” A reluctant smile spread across his face for a brief moment. “It felt fantastic. But it grossed me out, knowing what you were seeing, what you were kissing, how ugly they are.” “Shouldn’t it be my choice to decide if I want to kiss something or not?” she said reasonably, gazing steadily into those sad green eyes. They were standing apart, not touching, streaks of sunlight filtering between the boards over the windows painting their bodies in wide bands of light and shadow. She reached out a tentative hand and touched his chest, tracing the outlines of the muscles there, tenderly touching the scars that began on the side of his chest and wrapped around his left side, then following them to his arm, gliding down softly until she reached the thick cords of the whip scars there. She kept watching his eyes as her fingers traced the scars then kept moving down to his hand. She brought his hand up to her breast, then moved closer to him, both of her hands now softly stroking his chest, moving around to his back, following the scars when she encountered them. The front end of one scar was at her eye-level. She kissed it gently, then licked it playfully, her eyes twinkling as she got back in play mode. “Are you positive you want to do that?” he said uncertainly, his hand still hesitantly on her breast just as she’d left it. “It doesn’t make you sick?” “What sickens me is that it happened. The fact that they’re there, it’s horrible, yes. But you, Harry, you are not horrible. You are not ugly. You are beautiful all over. And you’re MINE and you will OBEY ME!” she demanded suddenly, then burst into giggles at his startled expression. She stamped her dainty foot, making her vivid hair dance enticingly across her ivory breasts. “Obey you?” he said, a bemused look on his face, rekindled desire sparkling in his eyes, his hand beginning to explore the delights of her breast again. “You heard me, mister!” she said in as commanding a voice as a petite girl who’s stark naked could muster. “You will obey me without question!” She lifted his other hand to her neglected breast and leaned into him, moaning with pleasure. “And what might your commands be, m’lady?” he murmured, kissing the top of her head as she leaned against his chest. “Stand still and let me have my way with you,” she said, dancing away from him, making both of them moan at the loss of contact. “Now what are you going to do?” he protested. “I thought. . .” “Just you wait. I have plans for you, my handsome knight!” Her eyes danced with mischief. He stood obediently where she had left him, watching in amusement as she studied him, walking around him looking him up and down, as if planning her attack — which was exactly what she was doing. She moved behind him again and ran her hands over his back, his arms, his bum, the lovely length of his legs, then did the same thing with kisses, licks and little nips here and there. She soon had him gasping with desire. She ducked under his arm and nibbled the side of his ribcage, knowing what his reaction would be. “That tickles,” he said, with a giggle and a shiver, exactly as she’d expected. “Good!” She slid the rest of the way under his arm and stood in front of him, then started the process all over again on the horrible scars on his chest and arm. Harry thought one of the best parts about her being in front him was that he was more able to participate and not just be the object of her play. He ran his hands over whatever parts of her he could reach while standing upright, savouring the delightful contours of her body, the lovely heaviness of her breasts, her narrow waist, the sweet swell of her bum. Watching the flame of her hair glide sinuously over her ivory skin as she moved nearly drove him wild. Feeling its silken masses against his skin was delicious beyond all imagining. Finally, he simply couldn’t stand upright any more. He wrapped his arms around her and fell back on the bed, laughing as her hair fell in a rich scarlet curtain around them, cutting off the filtered light from the boarded up window as well as any bed curtains. He smiled up at her. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” “I could ask you the same question, luv,” she murmured, then bent to kiss him. Their tongues danced around each other, exploring the delicious territories of each other’s mouths, while their hands did the same on their bodies. He rolled her onto her back, chuckling as he pushed her hair out of her face. “I love your hair,” he murmured, smoothing the long red tresses off of her shoulders and breasts. When he flipped the last lock aside, he sat back a moment, admiring his creation. Her hair was fanned out around her like a glorious aurora, her body white against its rich colour. “I love you, you know,” he said, his heart pounding as he studied her every perfect curve. “Not just my hair?” she teased. “Not just your hair. Every beautiful inch of you,” he said, his hands wandering over the contours of her breasts, her narrow waist, the angular bones at the top of her hips. “I love you, too,” she said, reaching up for him, “and you’re too far away.” They spent the afternoon revelling in their love for each other, playing silly games, tickling each other with their hair, and finally sleeping for a while. The shadows in the room were getting long when Harry woke up. His head was on Ginny’s stomach, his hand happily resting on her breast. He saw she was watching him as she twirled tendrils of his hair around her fingers. “Hi,” he said. “Hi yourself. Good nap?” “Yeah,” he replied with a goofy grin. “You?” “Delicious.” “Hmm. That’s nice,” he said, beginning to massage her breast again. “If we keep this up, we’ll miss supper,” she warned while thoroughly enjoying his attentions. “And that’s a problem because. . .?” he teased. “You’re the one who’s always starving. Miss supper if you want!” she said with a chuckle, running her fingers through his hair, then cupping his head in her hands, pulling him up to kiss her. “You know,” he said as he broke the kiss, “I could get used to waking up like this very easily.” “Me too.” He propped his head on his hand and looked down at her, his fingers tantalizing her wonderfully once more. “I wish we were older.” “Me too. Will we always live in London?” “Do you want to?” “I don’t know. The house will be nice once we fix it up,” she said with a smile. “Yeah, but it’s in a terrible neighbourhood. And kids need room to play outside — so do I, for that matter. I’d rather live in the country, if you don’t mind.” “I don’t mind at all,” she said, glowing with pleasure at his being willing to talk so seriously about a real future for them. “How many kids do you want?” Harry looked surprised at her question. “None at the moment, why?” “I just wondered. None at the moment works for me, too, but in a few years? You were the one who said the house in London didn’t have room for kids to play outside.” Her eyes twinkled with merriment. She didn’t think he’d even been aware of what he was saying — it was his heart talking, with his brain nowhere in the loop at all, something she cherished whenever it happened. He was letting his heart talk more and more as their relationship grew, not being as cautious and pessimistic about his life expectancy and future as he’d once been, and it thrilled her. His crooked grin spread across his face. “I did, didn’t I?” he said with a chuckle. “OK, then. Let’s see. You have two years left at Hogwarts. I have one year plus three in Auror’s training. You have what, three years of Healer training? So it’s about five years before I can change that ring on your hand for something more permanent.” “Five years. Seems like forever.” “Yeah. It will be hard, not being at school together. I don’t know how I’ll manage without you,” he said seriously. “Same here. That last year at Hogwarts will be awful for me.” “I’ll come to visit as often as I can,” Harry promised. “Oh, and on the kids question? As many as you want. I’d love to grow my own Quidditch team,” he chuckled. “Seven? That sounds possible,” she said with a grin. “But it could be five, if we both played too.” “However many you want, sweetheart — I’ll leave that up to you,” he said, nuzzling her breast. “Mmm, that feels so good,” she murmured, revelling in the beguiling sensations he was stirring up in her body. “Shhh!” he whispered urgently, quickly getting to his feet and listening hard. The hair on the back of his head had prickled, warning him of danger. He picked up his glasses and put them on, then looked toward the boarded-up window. His wand was in the pocket of his jeans, lying in a heap on the floor several feet away. “Are Ron and Hermione here already?” Ginny groaned, rolling out of bed. “No. Somebody’s outside. Be quiet. I’ll go look.” He moved carefully to the boarded up window and peeped through the cracks to the overgrown garden outside. Lucius Malfoy stood there, looking at the house curiously. “Get dressed,” Harry hissed, keeping his eyes locked on his enemy. “Who’s out there?” she whispered, dressing as fast as she could. She’d barely pulled her jeans up when he gasped, grabbed her in his arms and turned his back to the wall just as the wall of the Shack exploded into the room. As the debris continued to fall, Harry whirled around. Lucius Malfoy stood there smirking. “Ah, Potter. I had a feeling that it was you. Nobody else would use a haunted house as a trysting place,” he said snidely. “What do you want?” Harry said as he turned to face the man, keeping Ginny carefully behind him. She’d managed to pull on her t-shirt by now, but he stood naked and unarmed before his enemy. “I see the Dark Lord marked you well,” Malfoy said as his eyes roved over Harry’s scars. “That’s more than he can see now,” Harry quipped. He could see his impertinent reply had angered the man. “Why aren’t you dead yet?” the man sneered. “How do you know I’m not? Maybe I’m a ghost,” Harry replied tartly. “Why are you here?” “It’s just another tedious meeting, really, because my son apparently failed in his mission,” Malfoy said in a bored voice, his eyes studying the nude young man before him. No wand in his hand, no place to hide one. Perfect! he thought. “Apparently.” “But I won’t! Avada Ke. . .” Harry spread his hands wide and formed a golden sphere around Malfoy. He grunted with the effort of holding the massive yet delicate spell. The Killing Curse bounced from wall to wall inside the shield, a panicked Malfoy doing his best to dodge it or block it, but it finally hit him and he fell to the ground, dead. When Harry was certain the man wasn’t going to move again, he dropped the spell and the sphere dissolved in a glittering mist of golden light. His body was covered with sweat as he panted from the effort it had cost him to hold the spell strongly enough to contain the man and his spells. Lucius Malfoy lay sprawled in an awkward position, his silky white-blond hair splayed untidily around him. His face was frozen in a mask of terror. Harry glanced around outside, then dropped to the ground beside the body. He nudged it with his foot, then gave it a swift kick with his heel in the man’s groin. “I guess he’s really dead,” he said when there was no reaction. “Toss me my wand, would you?” he called up to Ginny. “How about some clothes, too?” she said with a nervous laugh, then crossed the room to get his wand out of his jeans’ pocket. “In a sec.” He caught his wand deftly and turned Malfoy’s body into a single bone, then conjured an airtight box to seal it in. “OK, clothes now.” He dressed and held his arms up to Ginny. “Come on, jump down here to me. I’ll have to repair the wall and I can’t do it from inside. We’ll fly back.” “OK,” she replied, making sure they hadn’t left anything in the room and dropping into his waiting arms. “Why do you suppose he was here? And how did he know we were here?” “I forgot to put the Silencio on the room. I remembered that when I felt his presence outside. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He hugged her briefly, kissed her on the forehead and handed her the box. “Don’t lose this.” “No problem,” she said, holding the box gingerly. “But why would he come here?” “Dunno. Probably meeting someone here. He’s met Draco here before. Nobody ever comes here except for us, you know. Everyone still thinks it’s haunted, so I suppose Malfoy thought it would be a safe place to meet, as long as they were outside the house.” As he spoke, Harry studied the shack’s damaged wall, trying to decide how to fix it. “Do you think anyone heard the explosion? Maybe people are coming,” Ginny said worriedly, looking toward the village. “It’s possible, but given the number of explosions we make while learning some new spells, I suspect it will be ignored. Dumbledore, Remus and I do most of our really noisy practice just through the woods there, not that far from here.” Harry lifted his wand and did a Reparo charm on the wall, the best way he could think of to repair it at least temporarily. “I guess that will hold it for now. It looks pretty much the same.” He looked around on the ground, found Malfoy’s wand and pocketed it along with his own, then Vanished the remaining debris littering the grass. “I guess that’s it, then,” he said, glancing around one more time. “I’m going to change into a phoenix. Grab my tail. We need to see Professor Dumbledore.” “OK,” she agreed, pocketing her wand and holding the box tightly. Suddenly, Harry pushed her to the ground, pulling out his wand at the same time. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered, the hair on the back of his neck prickling in warning again. He did a Disillusionment Charm on both of them and they lay perfectly still, completely exposed except for the camouflage given by the charm. Crabbe and Goyle, the fathers of their classmates, came stumping up the hill. “Where the bloody hell is he?” Crabbe grumbled as they reached the top of the hill. They stood at the edge of the garden, looking around. Harry and Ginny held their breath. If the sunlight hit them the wrong way, and if these two dunces were bright enough to understand what they were looking at, Harry and Ginny would be in trouble. “We’re late. He probably got tired of waiting and left,” Goyle replied. “That’s like him, the great wanker. No patience at all.” “Yeah. C’mon, let’s go to the pub. Maybe he’s there.” “Even if he’s not, I’d rather be in the pub than here,” Goyle said with a chuckle. “I could do with a pint.” “Yeah,” Crabbe rumbled as they turned and went back down the hill toward Hogsmeade. Harry and Ginny stayed still, waiting until the voices of the two Death Eaters faded in the distance. “That was close,” Harry whispered as they stood up and he removed the Disillusionment Charm. “OK, hold on tight. I’m going to flash us there rather than flying.” “Flash?” Ginny said, not understanding, but he had already changed. The phoenix took flight and circled her head. She reached out and grabbed its tail, holding on for all she was worth, wondering what this “flash” thing was. An instant later, she knew. After two bright flashes of light, one when they disappeared and the other when they reappeared, she was standing just outside of Dumbledore’s office at the top of the spiral staircase, still holding the tail of the phoenix. The door opened just as Harry changed back into himself. “Ah, I thought I heard someone out here,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “To what do I owe this very pleasant surprise? Do come in. Biscuit? I was just about to have tea.” Ginny and Harry followed him into his office and sat down. Harry took the box from Ginny and laid it on the table next to the tea things. “What’s that?” Dumbledore said curiously. “It’s Lucius Malfoy,” Harry replied, the adrenalin rush finally dissipating, leaving him feeling drained and exhausted. He leaned forward and rested his head in his cupped hands. “Harry? Are you all right?” Dumbledore said in concern, leaning toward the boy. “I’m fine — just tired, and a bit sore. My back and arm are still bothering me a bit,” he said dismissively. “That really is Lucius Malfoy — or what’s left of him,” he insisted. He told Dumbledore what had happened, leaving out the part about his and Ginny’s afternoon of passion. “Were either of you injured?” “Harry has cuts on his back,” Ginny said quickly. “They don’t look bad, but there are splinters of wood in them.” “Really?” Harry said, sitting up suddenly in surprise. “Don’t lean back against the chair,” Ginny warned. “You’re hurt.” “I didn’t realize,” he commented, reaching around to touch his back. “Ow! You’re right.” “Let’s see,” Dumbledore said quietly. Harry stood up and turned around. His t-shirt had spots and splatters of blood on it in several places. Harry tried to lift his shirt but stopped, gasping in pain, when the fabric caught on a shard of wood “That’s good enough, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “You two go to the hospital wing. I’ll take care of Mr. Malfoy.” “What are you going to do? Give it to the Ministry?” Harry asked. “I’m going to turn him back into himself and go through his clothing to see if there’s any information that could be helpful to us. I’ll decide what to do with his body later.” “That’s a good idea,” Harry said, turning to go. “Oh, here’s his wand,” he added, handing it to the Headmaster. “Harry — how did you make that sphere turn outwards?” Dumbledore asked when the kids reached the door. “Isn’t it supposed to?” “I don’t know. You’re the only one I know of who casts that spell. I saw it in your Dark Magic books, but I don’t recall any mention of turning it outward. I wondered what you did differently, and why.” “Oh.” Harry stood still a moment, remembering the scene. “Merlin and I have been talking about different things it might be possible to do with that charm. He’s been helping me strengthen the walls, for one thing, but I hadn’t tried turning it outward before. Basically, I wanted to keep Malfoy away from Ginny. A shield inside the Shack wouldn’t protect her, because he could demolish the house around us. So I wanted the shield to be outside, and I wanted to capture him, as well. That’s what I was thinking when I cast it. And I held my hands differently.” He held his hands out in front of him, his arms spread wide, fingers opened and separated but cupped as if touching a huge ball in front of him. “Sort of like this, rather than like this,” he said, spreading his arms to either side of him, his hands flatter than before. “Can you show me how you did it?” Dumbledore asked, his face curious. “OK,” Harry said with a shrug, then produced a sphere around Dumbledore. He dissolved that and produced a sphere around himself and Ginny, then dissolved it. “Remarkable. Well done, Harry!” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Thank you. I’ll send some house elves to repair the Shrieking Shack. Now run along and get your back taken care of. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will set you right in no time.” “’No time’ is about all the time I want to spend there,” Harry replied with a grin. A short time later, Harry and Ginny entered the hospital wing. “Hi, Madam Pomfrey! I missed you!” Harry teased. “Did you now?” she said with a smile, “or are you hurt again?” “I’ve got some splinters,” he admitted, turning around. “You’d better just Vanish his shirt,” Ginny cautioned. “It’s catching on the splinters.” “All right,” Madam Pomfrey said, then Vanished Harry’s shirt as she’d suggested. “Oh, my. What have you been up to this time? It looks like you’ve been near an explosion.” “I was,” he said. He came up with a story about a spell gone wrong as his excuse for the splinters. “Miss Weasley, are you hurt?” “No, he pushed me behind him to shield me from it,” she said. “Are you certain nothing got past him?” “I’ve got some dirt on my jeans, but no splinters. I’m fine.” “It’s probably a good thing he’s so much bigger than you are, or I might have two patients instead of one,” the nurse commented dryly. In a few minutes, the splinters, shards and chunks of wood were removed and the wounds treated with ointment. “Take this potion, Potter, it will ease the pain.” “It won’t make me sleep will it? I don’t want to waste any of my last days at school sleeping!” “No, it’s the non-drowsy formula,” she assured him with a smile. “How are you feeling otherwise? Are your scars bothering you at all?” “They ache or twinge from time to time. My left arm’s still stiff, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s a bit painful to fly in my Animagus forms, but I guess that’s because the injuries are so recent, right?” “I imagine so. It would probably be best if you didn’t fly that way for a while. Give your back and arm more time to heal, all right? Try not to abuse yourself so.” “I’ll do my best,” he assured her, which wasn’t exactly a promise. He knew that, if necessity arose, as it had when Malfoy fell from the Astronomy Tower, or when he needed to get both himself and Ginny to Dumbledore quickly today, he’d still use his Animagus forms to do what had to be done. He Summoned another shirt from his room and put it on when it arrived, giggling with Ginny at the thought of it flying down the corridors and bumping into people on its way there. When he was dressed, he and Ginny went to the Great Hall for supper. “Hi,” Ron said as they sat down across from him. “Nice afternoon?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Wonderful!” Ginny said. “Except for the ending,” Harry added wryly. “Huh?” “You tell him,” Harry told Ginny, heaping piles of food on his plate. “I’m starving and wounded and need to be coddled.” Ginny leaned her head on his shoulder, taking his fork and feeding him rather messily. “Coddle, coddle,” she giggled. “I can feed myself, thank you,” he chuckled, taking the fork and digging into his food. “You’re wounded again? What. . .?” Ginny told Ron the whole story. “And now house elves need to restore the Shack to the way it was,” Harry added. “I did a Reparo on it, but it needs more repairs than I knew how to do. And I suspect there are spells on it that will need to be replaced.” “Oh,” Ron said glumly. “When’s Hermione getting here?” Ginny said, knowing why her brother was suddenly so down. “Soon. I was hoping. . .” “Ron — three words — Room of Requirement,” Ginny said. “Every Sixth or Seventh Year in D.A. uses it now that they know about it,” he grumbled. “You’re the general. Order them out!” Harry teased. “You two will think of something,” Ginny said bracingly. “Ron,” Harry said, as sudden inspiration hit. “The tunnel to Honeyduke’s.” “But. . .” “You can borrow the Cloak if you want,” Harry assured him. “A Cushioning Charm, a Lumos on your wands, and you’re set.” Ron’s face lit up. “Thanks, mate!” Just then a pair of slender hands came around his head and covered his eyes. “Guess who?” Hermione said. Ron pulled her hands down and kissed them, then helped her to her seat beside him. “Have you eaten?” he asked. “No, and I’m starving!” she said, cheerfully tipping food onto her plate. “Welcome back,” Harry said. “Are you feeling all right now?” Ginny asked. “I’m fine, and thanks for the welcome! It’s so good to be back!” she said happily. “What have you three been up to?” Ginny filled her in on what had happened up at the Shack. “You killed Lucius Malfoy?” Hermione gasped. “More like he killed himself,” Harry replied with a shrug. “And Crabbe’s and Goyle’s dads are loose in Hogsmeade, unless Dumbledore’s had them picked up. They were going to a pub there, the great lumps. They should be easy to catch. They’re probably drunk by now.” “I hope they’ve caught them,” Hermione said. “I can’t believe how these people keep getting out of Azkaban.” “Those three were never captured after the Battle of Hogwarts,” Ron said darkly. “Lucius Malfoy stayed behind to command, and kept Crabbe and Goyle with him as protection. As soon as the tide of the battle turned, they ran, the big cowards.” “I hope they find a way to seal up the prison so nobody escapes again,” Ginny said vehemently. “We shouldn’t have to fight the same people over and over! And he spoiled a wonderful afternoon!” “He didn’t spoil it completely, baby,” Harry said, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her temple. “I, for one, had a lovely time.” “I did too,” she said with a smile, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Oy! Get a room!” Dean Thomas teased as he walked by. “Yeah. What he said,” Harry agreed with a laugh, looking at his three friends fondly. |
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