![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lomonaaerenRemember, DH SPOILERS in this story!
Thanks again for all the reviews!
Chapter Thirty-Two—A Matter of Strength
Draco found Harry sitting in the gardens sometime after Granger left, his hands on his knees, his eyes blank. He stirred when he heard Draco coming, and managed to turn and give him a bland smile. “The boys still with Twibby?”
“Yes. And my mother’s fussing over Lily, because she had to let Granger’s daughter go.” Draco sat down next to him. He didn’t like the look in Harry’s eyes right now. It was a mixture of resignation and desperate unhappiness. Perhaps that was better than having him think he had to secure the joy of every person around him, but a restless, helpless Harry wasn’t good news, either. “What happened?”
“Hermione gave me a letter,” Harry whispered. “From Ginny.”
Draco held himself tightly under control. He knew he should have listened at the door as his instincts had told him to do, no matter how much fun he’d had making faces at Lily and thinking wistfully that she might look up to him as a father someday, if she wanted. “And?” he asked. “Did she accuse you of not working hard enough to keep your marriage alive again?”
Harry closed his eyes. “No,” he said. “She sounds—shattered, Draco.” And though Draco hadn’t asked, he fished the letter out of a robe pocket and handed it over.
Draco opened the letter warily. It wasn’t as though it could carry germs from Weasley, of course, but he still wasn’t sure that he wanted to read a letter that could make Harry look like that.
It was hard to read. It was absolutely rambling and incoherent, for one thing.
Dearest Harry:
I’ve done what I could. I tried to keep the realizations at bay, but you were right. You were right, and I was wrong, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I can barely live with it. We both had our share of fault, but I can’t lay all the blame on you. I should have worked harder. I should have told you what was wrong.
But it’s no good, don’t you see, our blaming each other and trying to live apart? It may take us years to live together peacefully again, but we must try. For the children, Harry, because they need their mother and because they love me and because I love them. It’s true that I didn’t want Lily at the time, but I’ve learned to love her since. Isn’t a mistake forgivable? I find myself more forgiving now, so I hope you are, too.
And the life-debts aren’t as strong as the marriage bonds. I asked Hermione to research them for me. She was reluctant, but she did. The case of the most life-debts she could find was ten, between a single man and a woman who was married with the kind of vows that we have. And they wanted to give themselves to each other, this man and this woman, but they couldn’t. Because the marriage vows were still stronger.
I don’t know how many you and Malfoy owe each other. Six? Seven? But it doesn’t matter, because the marriage vows are still stronger. It’s a matter of strength, Harry. It’s the strength of the vows, and it’s the strength to forgive each other and come back together again. It would be easy for me to hide in my parents’ house for the rest of my life, and it would be easier for you to stay with Malfoy. But that’s the kind of thing that only happens in stories. Living together and learning to accept one another’s faults is real life.
Take as long as you need. But we have to live together, in the end. It’s the only way, and it will mean more to so many other people besides us.
Love,
Ginny.
Draco folded the letter neatly, making sure the creases made a slitting sound when he smoothed along them. Then he handed the letter back to Harry and spoke the first words that came into his head. “You can’t be seriously thinking of going back to her.”
Harry shook his head, toying with the parchment. “No. That was the end. I don’t think she realizes it, but I couldn’t bring myself to live with her again, or have sex with her.” He shuddered a little, then bowed his head.
“But,” Draco said, while his hands clenched on the bench beside him.
“I was wondering,” Harry said quietly, “what my children would want. Whether they would be happier with their parents living together than apart after all, even if they knew that we didn’t like each other much.”
Draco ground his teeth and looked away. He had thought that Harry was resolved in his choice, and now it appeared that he hadn’t been.
Or—
Beside him, Harry gasped and moved his arm. Draco turned back to see him smoothing down his right flank, where Draco knew the scar from the sixth life-debt lay, his face bewildered.
Draco relaxed. Harry was falling back into old, bad habits, or trying. That was all. Draco supposed he couldn’t demand miracles. Harry could think of his own happiness when confronted with good revelations, like that of Draco’s love for him, or with sudden explosions like his wife’s poisoning of him. But when another one came along—his wife’s letter, in this case—he would begin to doubt his former choices.
“A good thing that I made you swear that promise to consider your own happiness, isn’t it?” he murmured. “There’s a difference between feeling sorry for her and giving your children a choice as to where to live, Harry, and letting those feelings and choices dictate your life. I would do almost anything for Scorpius. But I wouldn’t give up being who I am, because I know in the end it would make me a poorer father to him.”
Harry managed to smile. “I still have a lot to learn about happiness, I think,” he said.
Draco kissed him. “Give it time. You’ve safeguarded other people at your own expense for ten years, at least, and probably longer than that.” He paused. “Did you want to come in to an early dinner, or sit out here for a while longer?”
“I need some time to think,” Harry said.
Draco nodded, placed a hand on his shoulder, and then stood up and reentered the Manor. Tutela passed him on the way out, swooping directly towards Harry. Draco glanced back to see her settle on Harry’s shoulder and give a commanding hoot.
He nodded to her. Harry needed time to think, but he shouldn’t be alone.
Draco was only glad that they had survived their first potential crisis so well.
*
Harry didn’t know how long he sat there, staring, only becoming aware of Tutela when she flapped her wings in his face and demanded that he look at her. Really, it wasn’t as if he were trying to avoid her. He knew that she was there, and he wasn’t neglecting his own happiness that badly.
He was simply coming face-to-face, for the first time, with one of the consequences of seeking his own happiness.
He couldn’t help Ginny. He couldn’t reverse his decision. It would never be the same; even if he managed to preserve a polite front with her for the children’s sake, he would always be wondering when she would resort to something desperate and childish like poisoning him with Dreamless Sleep again. And the mere thought of touching her made his skin crawl.
In truth, their intimacy had started to fade months, maybe years, before Harry had met Draco again. But meeting Draco had thrown it into sharp relief, since before then Harry had only felt nebulous dissatisfaction. He hadn’t wanted anyone specific other than Ginny, just something…more.
And some of that was his fault.
And now, he couldn’t save her.
Tutela ducked her head until her beak was resting beside his ear, and held it there. Harry reached up to scratch the feathers of her nape, which ruffled with pleasure. He tried to take some comfort from the breathing warmth of her, so close.
He couldn’t save everyone. He had thought he knew that; it was certainly something one became accustomed to after years of working for the Blood Reparations Department.
But being a hero was the only thing he knew how to do. And now he couldn’t be one for his wife, and it saddened him.
It was all right to feel sorry for her, wasn’t it? That was hardly a betrayal of what he had chosen, of Draco or his life with Draco.
But giving in to her would be.
“Harry.”
Harry was turning around before he realized the voice wasn’t Draco’s. He had thought it must be because one of his children would have used “Dad,” and one of the house-elves “Master Potter.” But it was Narcissa Malfoy who stood there in the darkening garden, her hands folded in front of her and her sharp eyes on his face.
“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said, starting to stand. “Are you looking for Draco? I think he might be with the children—“
“Call me Narcissa, please,” said Narcissa, and picked her way towards him. Even though she wore pale blue robes that were no more confining than his or Draco’s, Harry thought she moved as if she were used to heavy gowns. “And no. You’re the one I came to talk with.”
Harry swallowed several times, and then managed to get out, “Oh.” He had assumed that if Draco’s mother had any strenuous objection to their living in the same house, she had kept them diplomatically to herself, waiting to see what happened and how much Harry really meant to her son. Now he wondered if he had been judged and found wanting, or if Narcissa was about to tell him something he had done to hurt Draco. His heart pounded so fast that Tutela hooted in distress and leaned more firmly against his cheek.
“Why don’t we sit down again?” Narcissa patted the bench, so Harry sat. She sat next to him, and turned around to study him coolly. Harry remembered the first impression he’d had of her, when he saw her at the Quidditch World Cup, as if she had a smell of dung beneath her nostrils. Now, she looked as if she were seeing straight into the back of his skull, and reading all his thoughts as though they were printed on parchment. Harry remembered Snape’s use of Legilimency, and shifted uneasily.
And then Narcissa smiled.
Harry stared. He had always thought that Draco looked more like his father, but his smile was Narcissa’s. It filled her pale blue eyes with something that looked like genuine delight, and irradiated the corners of her face with pure light.
“What did I do, to deserve that?” Harry asked in wonder, and then promptly flushed again, conscious that he’d probably sounded stupid.
Narcissa took his hand. “You gave Draco his life back again,” she said softly. “You protected him, and rescued him, and gave him an interest beyond the walls of the Manor. He loves his son, but it’s not right that he live solely for Scorpius. And he’s happy with you, happier than I’ve ever seen him. I’m not sure what factor was strongest, the combination of circumstances or the life-debts or the fact that you’re so obviously in love with him yourself, but it worked. He wasn’t even this joyful when he was a child; Lucius got his claws into him too early.” There was a complicated flicker of emotions in her eyes, making Harry wonder how much she missed her imprisoned husband. “So, thank you for that. And I wanted to say, if you doubted your decisions or worried that I disapproved, you should lay those fears to rest. I could only disapprove if you hurt him. He is full of fire now, and you are the source of it.”
Harry nodded slowly. He still couldn’t quite believe that she was as happy with the sudden changes as she pretended, but—
The scar sent its minty, buzzing tingle into his mind, and Tutela placed one talon gently on his shoulder, with the suggestion that she could put more weight behind it, were she so inclined. Think of his own happiness, their message was, and trust Narcissa. If she were unhappy, she would have to tell him about it. That was the mistake Ginny had made, assuming he could read her mind. Reasonable people wouldn’t act like that.
Harry relaxed as much as he could, and said, “Then you don’t mind the children coming with me to take up residence in the Manor?”
Narcissa laughed, and her face softened in a way that even that semi-alarming smile hadn’t managed to make it do. “Of course not! The house-elves can help take care of them. And I have wished that Draco and Marian remained together long enough to have a daughter, or several, in order to end the Malfoy tradition of only one child a generation. Your sons and little girl—“ Harry didn’t miss how her tone gentled at the mention of Lily “—are welcome here for as long as you choose to stay.”
And her gaze grew piercing again. “How long do you plan to stay, Harry?”
“For as long as both Draco and I want me to,” said Harry.
He hadn’t planned the response beforehand, but maybe that was better. Narcissa reached out and caught his other hand.
“Thank you for my son’s happiness,” she said simply. By the time Harry recovered from the wonder of her saying that to him, she had risen from the bench and was pacing back across the garden, picking up her robes as if to remove them from the mud. There wasn’t much mud, of course. The elves had groomed and tended the gardens to within an inch of the flowers’ lives, and stray mud would be much too distracting a sight for wealthy pure-blood wizards, Harry suspected.
As far as I’m concerned, though, Narcissa can have all the odd little mannerisms she wants.
*
“So it’s true that you left your wife?”
Harry looked up in startlement. He’d been playing with Teddy out in the Tonks gardens, but his godson had run back into the house to fetch a practice wand that he wanted Harry to see. He hadn’t realized Andromeda had come out of the house and was poised on the doorstep, her face soft and wistful as she looked at him. Harry wondered if she was thinking of her own marriage—also severed, though not willfully on the part of either participant.
He nodded. “I don’t think that we were meant to be married anymore,” he said.
“But you still are.” Andromeda’s brow wrinkled for a moment. “I thought the vows you took were the strongest type.”
“They are.” Harry heard the bitterness in his own voice, and did his best to drain it out. He wouldn’t bad-mouth Ginny to anyone, because someday it might get back to his children. “So they still hold. But couples with these vows have lived separately in the past. That’s what we’re doing.”
“Ah.” Andromeda folded her arms and looked down at her feet, and Harry wondered for a moment if she would tell him that she didn’t want him visiting Teddy anymore. It was a long shot, but Andromeda still didn’t have many fond feelings for the Malfoys, and she had lost her husband and daughter and son-in-law to people who believed as they did.
Instead, she looked up at him and said, “I have struggled against certain aspects of my reality for too long to believe they can be changed. I hope you will find things different.”
Harry impulsively stepped forwards and clasped her hands. They were warm and slightly damp in his, as if she were far more strained than she let on. Andromeda shivered and started to pull back from him, but Harry closed his fingers on hers, keeping her still. “If you ever wanted to talk to me about Ted or Tonks,” he said softly, “I’d be happy to hear about them.”
Andromeda closed her eyes. Her words emerged in short jerks. “There was no—there was no chance for me to change what happened. If I could have hunted down Bellatrix—if I could have made her pay for killing my daughter—then I think I would have peace. But the war ended so soon.” She took several sharp, quick breaths, then added, “Not that I blame you for ending it. It is good that it did, so no one else had to die. But there is no chance for revenge on the people who caused the most harm. Do you understand?”
“I think I do,” said Harry. He hesitated. “To be honest, I wondered if you would hate the Malfoys, because they represented the side that caused you so much pain.”
Andromeda looked beyond weary. “I can’t hate my sister and her nephew, though I don’t want to associate with them until they can admit that I didn’t make the wrong choice by marrying Ted, and that Dora didn’t throw her life away on Remus. Maybe there can be reconciliation in the end. But it seems unlikely at the moment.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.
“Grandmum? Harry?”
Harry dropped Andromeda’s hands and turned around. Teddy was standing in the doorway of the drawing room, his eyes wide and darting back and forth between them. He had his practice wand in his hand, colored bubbles emerging from the tip, but he seemed to have forgotten why he wanted to fetch it in the first place.
“Teddy,” Andromeda said, and went to him, bending down to kiss his forehead for a moment. Then she gave Harry a slight nod and walked into the house. Harry studied her back. It was proud and firm. No one would ever reckon that so much grief was still devouring her from the inside.
“Did she tell you about Mum?” Teddy asked.
Harry snapped his attention back to his godson. “Only that she still misses her,” he replied. “Why? Was there something else I should know?”
“She misses her so much.” Teddy turned his hair black. “It even comforts her that I’m a Metamorphmagus, because that’s one of the ways I’m like Mum.” He moodily floated his bubbles around the backyard. “Sometimes I think she wishes she were dead, too. And other times I catch her crying, and it’s always Mum she’s talking about, and sometimes Granddad. Almost never Dad.” He gave Harry a pointed look.
Harry wondered for a moment why he seemed to have a talent for becoming entangled in family drama that wasn’t his own. But if he couldn’t explain exactly what was going on in Andromeda’s head to Teddy, maybe he could make it more understandable. “She didn’t have much chance to get to know your dad before he died,” he said. “Just a few months. She knew your mum her whole life, and she was married to your granddad.”
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with Dad being a werewolf?” Teddy’s eyes searched his for reassurance.
“I don’t know that for certain,” Harry said, after a moment of internal debate. As much as Teddy probably would have liked to hear that his family had been completely harmonious when his parents were alive, he hated being lied to more. “If you feel that you really need to know, then ask her. But bear in mind that if her grief is still this strong, she might not be comfortable telling you.”
“I know that.” Teddy’s hair turned bright red, then black again, and he banished the bubbles altogether. “No one wants to talk to me about my parents. Grandmum still grieves about them too much, and they have no friends that I’ve ever met, and you didn’t know them for long enough, you said.”
Harry knelt down in front of his godson. “I didn’t know much about them compared to some other people who, yes, are dead or grieving,” he said softly. “But I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t tell you about them at all. Just that the information wouldn’t be complete.”
“Please.” Teddy gave him a yearning look. “I just feel like I don’t know them, not really.”
Harry swallowed memories of another ten-year-old boy who hadn’t known his parents at all, and couldn’t have picked their faces out of a crowd. He began to tell Teddy of the lessons that Remus had given him in conjuring a Patronus, and of the night that Tonks had come as part of the Advance Guard to the Dursleys’ house and tripped over things continually.
By the time he left, Teddy’s face was a little more peaceful, and he waved cheerfully as Harry Apparated back to the Manor.
*
Harry jerked sharply out of sleep. Draco was shaking his shoulder, and by the look of his face, he wasn’t any more pleased about waking from one of their shared dreams than Harry was.
“Whazzit?” Harry muttered. His tongue was tied up with his teeth, and he rubbed crusted sleep from the corners of his eyes.
“Granger’s in the fireplace,” Draco said. “She wouldn’t tell me what had happened, just that I should get you immediately.” He stepped back so Harry could climb out of the bed, but added, “If it’s something like the dragons, then I’m coming with you whether she likes it or not.”
Harry nodded, finished buttoning up the pyjama top that had been hanging around his shoulders, and padded past Draco and down a few corridors to the fireplace where Hermione’s head hovered in the flames. One look, and he found it hard to continue standing. Draco didn’t know Hermione well, so he had probably taken her fierce expression for a sign that she was angry. Harry could see her trembling lower lip, and the gathering wetness at the corners of her eyes that could easily become tears.
“Hermione,” he said. “What’s happened?”
“Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You needed to hear this from me.” She didn’t seem to notice as Draco took up a protective stance at Harry’s shoulder; at least, she didn’t object. “There was—another attack. The Masked Lady was planning, but she didn’t move in the direction we were all expecting. We had the supremacist groups under watch, but she made use—Harry, I’m so sorry, I swear it wasn’t my fault—“
Harry took a deep breath, absorbing the reminder of the fact that they were at war. Draco’s hand clenched one shoulder; Tutela came winging through the doorway to settle on the other. “Tell me what happened, Hermione.”
Hermione nodded, eyes huge, and managed to speak the words without breaking into a sob in the middle of them. It was better than Harry could have done.
“She used dragons, Harry. On the Tonks house. It’s—completely gone, and there’s no sign of Andromeda or Teddy. We think they were burned to death.”
Chapter 33.
Thanks again for all the reviews!
Chapter Thirty-Two—A Matter of Strength
Draco found Harry sitting in the gardens sometime after Granger left, his hands on his knees, his eyes blank. He stirred when he heard Draco coming, and managed to turn and give him a bland smile. “The boys still with Twibby?”
“Yes. And my mother’s fussing over Lily, because she had to let Granger’s daughter go.” Draco sat down next to him. He didn’t like the look in Harry’s eyes right now. It was a mixture of resignation and desperate unhappiness. Perhaps that was better than having him think he had to secure the joy of every person around him, but a restless, helpless Harry wasn’t good news, either. “What happened?”
“Hermione gave me a letter,” Harry whispered. “From Ginny.”
Draco held himself tightly under control. He knew he should have listened at the door as his instincts had told him to do, no matter how much fun he’d had making faces at Lily and thinking wistfully that she might look up to him as a father someday, if she wanted. “And?” he asked. “Did she accuse you of not working hard enough to keep your marriage alive again?”
Harry closed his eyes. “No,” he said. “She sounds—shattered, Draco.” And though Draco hadn’t asked, he fished the letter out of a robe pocket and handed it over.
Draco opened the letter warily. It wasn’t as though it could carry germs from Weasley, of course, but he still wasn’t sure that he wanted to read a letter that could make Harry look like that.
It was hard to read. It was absolutely rambling and incoherent, for one thing.
Dearest Harry:
I’ve done what I could. I tried to keep the realizations at bay, but you were right. You were right, and I was wrong, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I can barely live with it. We both had our share of fault, but I can’t lay all the blame on you. I should have worked harder. I should have told you what was wrong.
But it’s no good, don’t you see, our blaming each other and trying to live apart? It may take us years to live together peacefully again, but we must try. For the children, Harry, because they need their mother and because they love me and because I love them. It’s true that I didn’t want Lily at the time, but I’ve learned to love her since. Isn’t a mistake forgivable? I find myself more forgiving now, so I hope you are, too.
And the life-debts aren’t as strong as the marriage bonds. I asked Hermione to research them for me. She was reluctant, but she did. The case of the most life-debts she could find was ten, between a single man and a woman who was married with the kind of vows that we have. And they wanted to give themselves to each other, this man and this woman, but they couldn’t. Because the marriage vows were still stronger.
I don’t know how many you and Malfoy owe each other. Six? Seven? But it doesn’t matter, because the marriage vows are still stronger. It’s a matter of strength, Harry. It’s the strength of the vows, and it’s the strength to forgive each other and come back together again. It would be easy for me to hide in my parents’ house for the rest of my life, and it would be easier for you to stay with Malfoy. But that’s the kind of thing that only happens in stories. Living together and learning to accept one another’s faults is real life.
Take as long as you need. But we have to live together, in the end. It’s the only way, and it will mean more to so many other people besides us.
Love,
Ginny.
Draco folded the letter neatly, making sure the creases made a slitting sound when he smoothed along them. Then he handed the letter back to Harry and spoke the first words that came into his head. “You can’t be seriously thinking of going back to her.”
Harry shook his head, toying with the parchment. “No. That was the end. I don’t think she realizes it, but I couldn’t bring myself to live with her again, or have sex with her.” He shuddered a little, then bowed his head.
“But,” Draco said, while his hands clenched on the bench beside him.
“I was wondering,” Harry said quietly, “what my children would want. Whether they would be happier with their parents living together than apart after all, even if they knew that we didn’t like each other much.”
Draco ground his teeth and looked away. He had thought that Harry was resolved in his choice, and now it appeared that he hadn’t been.
Or—
Beside him, Harry gasped and moved his arm. Draco turned back to see him smoothing down his right flank, where Draco knew the scar from the sixth life-debt lay, his face bewildered.
Draco relaxed. Harry was falling back into old, bad habits, or trying. That was all. Draco supposed he couldn’t demand miracles. Harry could think of his own happiness when confronted with good revelations, like that of Draco’s love for him, or with sudden explosions like his wife’s poisoning of him. But when another one came along—his wife’s letter, in this case—he would begin to doubt his former choices.
“A good thing that I made you swear that promise to consider your own happiness, isn’t it?” he murmured. “There’s a difference between feeling sorry for her and giving your children a choice as to where to live, Harry, and letting those feelings and choices dictate your life. I would do almost anything for Scorpius. But I wouldn’t give up being who I am, because I know in the end it would make me a poorer father to him.”
Harry managed to smile. “I still have a lot to learn about happiness, I think,” he said.
Draco kissed him. “Give it time. You’ve safeguarded other people at your own expense for ten years, at least, and probably longer than that.” He paused. “Did you want to come in to an early dinner, or sit out here for a while longer?”
“I need some time to think,” Harry said.
Draco nodded, placed a hand on his shoulder, and then stood up and reentered the Manor. Tutela passed him on the way out, swooping directly towards Harry. Draco glanced back to see her settle on Harry’s shoulder and give a commanding hoot.
He nodded to her. Harry needed time to think, but he shouldn’t be alone.
Draco was only glad that they had survived their first potential crisis so well.
*
Harry didn’t know how long he sat there, staring, only becoming aware of Tutela when she flapped her wings in his face and demanded that he look at her. Really, it wasn’t as if he were trying to avoid her. He knew that she was there, and he wasn’t neglecting his own happiness that badly.
He was simply coming face-to-face, for the first time, with one of the consequences of seeking his own happiness.
He couldn’t help Ginny. He couldn’t reverse his decision. It would never be the same; even if he managed to preserve a polite front with her for the children’s sake, he would always be wondering when she would resort to something desperate and childish like poisoning him with Dreamless Sleep again. And the mere thought of touching her made his skin crawl.
In truth, their intimacy had started to fade months, maybe years, before Harry had met Draco again. But meeting Draco had thrown it into sharp relief, since before then Harry had only felt nebulous dissatisfaction. He hadn’t wanted anyone specific other than Ginny, just something…more.
And some of that was his fault.
And now, he couldn’t save her.
Tutela ducked her head until her beak was resting beside his ear, and held it there. Harry reached up to scratch the feathers of her nape, which ruffled with pleasure. He tried to take some comfort from the breathing warmth of her, so close.
He couldn’t save everyone. He had thought he knew that; it was certainly something one became accustomed to after years of working for the Blood Reparations Department.
But being a hero was the only thing he knew how to do. And now he couldn’t be one for his wife, and it saddened him.
It was all right to feel sorry for her, wasn’t it? That was hardly a betrayal of what he had chosen, of Draco or his life with Draco.
But giving in to her would be.
“Harry.”
Harry was turning around before he realized the voice wasn’t Draco’s. He had thought it must be because one of his children would have used “Dad,” and one of the house-elves “Master Potter.” But it was Narcissa Malfoy who stood there in the darkening garden, her hands folded in front of her and her sharp eyes on his face.
“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said, starting to stand. “Are you looking for Draco? I think he might be with the children—“
“Call me Narcissa, please,” said Narcissa, and picked her way towards him. Even though she wore pale blue robes that were no more confining than his or Draco’s, Harry thought she moved as if she were used to heavy gowns. “And no. You’re the one I came to talk with.”
Harry swallowed several times, and then managed to get out, “Oh.” He had assumed that if Draco’s mother had any strenuous objection to their living in the same house, she had kept them diplomatically to herself, waiting to see what happened and how much Harry really meant to her son. Now he wondered if he had been judged and found wanting, or if Narcissa was about to tell him something he had done to hurt Draco. His heart pounded so fast that Tutela hooted in distress and leaned more firmly against his cheek.
“Why don’t we sit down again?” Narcissa patted the bench, so Harry sat. She sat next to him, and turned around to study him coolly. Harry remembered the first impression he’d had of her, when he saw her at the Quidditch World Cup, as if she had a smell of dung beneath her nostrils. Now, she looked as if she were seeing straight into the back of his skull, and reading all his thoughts as though they were printed on parchment. Harry remembered Snape’s use of Legilimency, and shifted uneasily.
And then Narcissa smiled.
Harry stared. He had always thought that Draco looked more like his father, but his smile was Narcissa’s. It filled her pale blue eyes with something that looked like genuine delight, and irradiated the corners of her face with pure light.
“What did I do, to deserve that?” Harry asked in wonder, and then promptly flushed again, conscious that he’d probably sounded stupid.
Narcissa took his hand. “You gave Draco his life back again,” she said softly. “You protected him, and rescued him, and gave him an interest beyond the walls of the Manor. He loves his son, but it’s not right that he live solely for Scorpius. And he’s happy with you, happier than I’ve ever seen him. I’m not sure what factor was strongest, the combination of circumstances or the life-debts or the fact that you’re so obviously in love with him yourself, but it worked. He wasn’t even this joyful when he was a child; Lucius got his claws into him too early.” There was a complicated flicker of emotions in her eyes, making Harry wonder how much she missed her imprisoned husband. “So, thank you for that. And I wanted to say, if you doubted your decisions or worried that I disapproved, you should lay those fears to rest. I could only disapprove if you hurt him. He is full of fire now, and you are the source of it.”
Harry nodded slowly. He still couldn’t quite believe that she was as happy with the sudden changes as she pretended, but—
The scar sent its minty, buzzing tingle into his mind, and Tutela placed one talon gently on his shoulder, with the suggestion that she could put more weight behind it, were she so inclined. Think of his own happiness, their message was, and trust Narcissa. If she were unhappy, she would have to tell him about it. That was the mistake Ginny had made, assuming he could read her mind. Reasonable people wouldn’t act like that.
Harry relaxed as much as he could, and said, “Then you don’t mind the children coming with me to take up residence in the Manor?”
Narcissa laughed, and her face softened in a way that even that semi-alarming smile hadn’t managed to make it do. “Of course not! The house-elves can help take care of them. And I have wished that Draco and Marian remained together long enough to have a daughter, or several, in order to end the Malfoy tradition of only one child a generation. Your sons and little girl—“ Harry didn’t miss how her tone gentled at the mention of Lily “—are welcome here for as long as you choose to stay.”
And her gaze grew piercing again. “How long do you plan to stay, Harry?”
“For as long as both Draco and I want me to,” said Harry.
He hadn’t planned the response beforehand, but maybe that was better. Narcissa reached out and caught his other hand.
“Thank you for my son’s happiness,” she said simply. By the time Harry recovered from the wonder of her saying that to him, she had risen from the bench and was pacing back across the garden, picking up her robes as if to remove them from the mud. There wasn’t much mud, of course. The elves had groomed and tended the gardens to within an inch of the flowers’ lives, and stray mud would be much too distracting a sight for wealthy pure-blood wizards, Harry suspected.
As far as I’m concerned, though, Narcissa can have all the odd little mannerisms she wants.
*
“So it’s true that you left your wife?”
Harry looked up in startlement. He’d been playing with Teddy out in the Tonks gardens, but his godson had run back into the house to fetch a practice wand that he wanted Harry to see. He hadn’t realized Andromeda had come out of the house and was poised on the doorstep, her face soft and wistful as she looked at him. Harry wondered if she was thinking of her own marriage—also severed, though not willfully on the part of either participant.
He nodded. “I don’t think that we were meant to be married anymore,” he said.
“But you still are.” Andromeda’s brow wrinkled for a moment. “I thought the vows you took were the strongest type.”
“They are.” Harry heard the bitterness in his own voice, and did his best to drain it out. He wouldn’t bad-mouth Ginny to anyone, because someday it might get back to his children. “So they still hold. But couples with these vows have lived separately in the past. That’s what we’re doing.”
“Ah.” Andromeda folded her arms and looked down at her feet, and Harry wondered for a moment if she would tell him that she didn’t want him visiting Teddy anymore. It was a long shot, but Andromeda still didn’t have many fond feelings for the Malfoys, and she had lost her husband and daughter and son-in-law to people who believed as they did.
Instead, she looked up at him and said, “I have struggled against certain aspects of my reality for too long to believe they can be changed. I hope you will find things different.”
Harry impulsively stepped forwards and clasped her hands. They were warm and slightly damp in his, as if she were far more strained than she let on. Andromeda shivered and started to pull back from him, but Harry closed his fingers on hers, keeping her still. “If you ever wanted to talk to me about Ted or Tonks,” he said softly, “I’d be happy to hear about them.”
Andromeda closed her eyes. Her words emerged in short jerks. “There was no—there was no chance for me to change what happened. If I could have hunted down Bellatrix—if I could have made her pay for killing my daughter—then I think I would have peace. But the war ended so soon.” She took several sharp, quick breaths, then added, “Not that I blame you for ending it. It is good that it did, so no one else had to die. But there is no chance for revenge on the people who caused the most harm. Do you understand?”
“I think I do,” said Harry. He hesitated. “To be honest, I wondered if you would hate the Malfoys, because they represented the side that caused you so much pain.”
Andromeda looked beyond weary. “I can’t hate my sister and her nephew, though I don’t want to associate with them until they can admit that I didn’t make the wrong choice by marrying Ted, and that Dora didn’t throw her life away on Remus. Maybe there can be reconciliation in the end. But it seems unlikely at the moment.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.
“Grandmum? Harry?”
Harry dropped Andromeda’s hands and turned around. Teddy was standing in the doorway of the drawing room, his eyes wide and darting back and forth between them. He had his practice wand in his hand, colored bubbles emerging from the tip, but he seemed to have forgotten why he wanted to fetch it in the first place.
“Teddy,” Andromeda said, and went to him, bending down to kiss his forehead for a moment. Then she gave Harry a slight nod and walked into the house. Harry studied her back. It was proud and firm. No one would ever reckon that so much grief was still devouring her from the inside.
“Did she tell you about Mum?” Teddy asked.
Harry snapped his attention back to his godson. “Only that she still misses her,” he replied. “Why? Was there something else I should know?”
“She misses her so much.” Teddy turned his hair black. “It even comforts her that I’m a Metamorphmagus, because that’s one of the ways I’m like Mum.” He moodily floated his bubbles around the backyard. “Sometimes I think she wishes she were dead, too. And other times I catch her crying, and it’s always Mum she’s talking about, and sometimes Granddad. Almost never Dad.” He gave Harry a pointed look.
Harry wondered for a moment why he seemed to have a talent for becoming entangled in family drama that wasn’t his own. But if he couldn’t explain exactly what was going on in Andromeda’s head to Teddy, maybe he could make it more understandable. “She didn’t have much chance to get to know your dad before he died,” he said. “Just a few months. She knew your mum her whole life, and she was married to your granddad.”
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with Dad being a werewolf?” Teddy’s eyes searched his for reassurance.
“I don’t know that for certain,” Harry said, after a moment of internal debate. As much as Teddy probably would have liked to hear that his family had been completely harmonious when his parents were alive, he hated being lied to more. “If you feel that you really need to know, then ask her. But bear in mind that if her grief is still this strong, she might not be comfortable telling you.”
“I know that.” Teddy’s hair turned bright red, then black again, and he banished the bubbles altogether. “No one wants to talk to me about my parents. Grandmum still grieves about them too much, and they have no friends that I’ve ever met, and you didn’t know them for long enough, you said.”
Harry knelt down in front of his godson. “I didn’t know much about them compared to some other people who, yes, are dead or grieving,” he said softly. “But I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t tell you about them at all. Just that the information wouldn’t be complete.”
“Please.” Teddy gave him a yearning look. “I just feel like I don’t know them, not really.”
Harry swallowed memories of another ten-year-old boy who hadn’t known his parents at all, and couldn’t have picked their faces out of a crowd. He began to tell Teddy of the lessons that Remus had given him in conjuring a Patronus, and of the night that Tonks had come as part of the Advance Guard to the Dursleys’ house and tripped over things continually.
By the time he left, Teddy’s face was a little more peaceful, and he waved cheerfully as Harry Apparated back to the Manor.
*
Harry jerked sharply out of sleep. Draco was shaking his shoulder, and by the look of his face, he wasn’t any more pleased about waking from one of their shared dreams than Harry was.
“Whazzit?” Harry muttered. His tongue was tied up with his teeth, and he rubbed crusted sleep from the corners of his eyes.
“Granger’s in the fireplace,” Draco said. “She wouldn’t tell me what had happened, just that I should get you immediately.” He stepped back so Harry could climb out of the bed, but added, “If it’s something like the dragons, then I’m coming with you whether she likes it or not.”
Harry nodded, finished buttoning up the pyjama top that had been hanging around his shoulders, and padded past Draco and down a few corridors to the fireplace where Hermione’s head hovered in the flames. One look, and he found it hard to continue standing. Draco didn’t know Hermione well, so he had probably taken her fierce expression for a sign that she was angry. Harry could see her trembling lower lip, and the gathering wetness at the corners of her eyes that could easily become tears.
“Hermione,” he said. “What’s happened?”
“Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You needed to hear this from me.” She didn’t seem to notice as Draco took up a protective stance at Harry’s shoulder; at least, she didn’t object. “There was—another attack. The Masked Lady was planning, but she didn’t move in the direction we were all expecting. We had the supremacist groups under watch, but she made use—Harry, I’m so sorry, I swear it wasn’t my fault—“
Harry took a deep breath, absorbing the reminder of the fact that they were at war. Draco’s hand clenched one shoulder; Tutela came winging through the doorway to settle on the other. “Tell me what happened, Hermione.”
Hermione nodded, eyes huge, and managed to speak the words without breaking into a sob in the middle of them. It was better than Harry could have done.
“She used dragons, Harry. On the Tonks house. It’s—completely gone, and there’s no sign of Andromeda or Teddy. We think they were burned to death.”
Chapter 33.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 01:45 am (UTC)For a moment there I was worried Harry was going to go back with Ginny. Not back together, but to live in the same house. No matter how strong the marriage vows, they can replace the lost trust. Still, I guess it's difficult for Harry to think of his happiness and accept he doesn't have to save everyone, after all, that's what he's always done. It's lucky he has Draco, and Tutela :)
I loved Narcissa, and both her and Draco being so taken with Lily. I hope she grows with them, as family... I can already see all the money Narcissa (and maybe Draco too) would spend on dresses, dolls, and all girly stuff for Lily.
Poor Andromeda, she's lost so much in such a short time. As for Teddy... Giving Harry's own past experience, he should have known Teddy would want to listen to anything related to his parents, no matter how incomplete the information.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:25 am (UTC)If Draco and Tutela weren't there, then Harry might really have tried to get back together with Ginny. On the other hand, without Draco, he probably would never have left her, just put up with things.
Narcissa is quietly hoping very hard that Lily stays. On the other hand, she knows that she wouldn't really have a say in raising her, so she doesn't voice that.
Harry just assumed Andromeda was telling Teddy things about his parents. He didn't know just how stricken with grief she was.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 01:53 am (UTC)Excellent chapter. I was concerned Harry was going to try to appease Ginny in some way, but I'm so glad he didn't. Thank goodness for Tutela and the promise!!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:25 am (UTC)Really, the only way to get Harry to hold back on being a hero is to get him to promise not to be; otherwise, he gives his energy to every new cause that comes along.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 02:43 am (UTC)When I read 'dragons', I was like. 'YES! Maybe they burned down Ginny's house assuming that Harry was still here' or something. I would prefer that than poor Andromeda and Teddy!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 02:45 am (UTC)Okay, I know that Teddy makes it, because this fic is epilogue-compliant. But what about Andromeda?! *bites fingernails*
I'm glad that Harry didn't cave to Ginny. She does seem shattered, but it's high time she took care of herself instead of relying on him to make things right in her life. And Draco's right. It's fine for Harry to consider his children's feelings, but not to let that dictate his choices. Love how Tutela and his scar keeps prodding him in the right direction.
I loved Harry's conversation with Andromeda and Teddy. I'm glad Harry told Teddy about his dad. And the conversation with Narcissa was lovely, too. I loved how Harry tried to doubt her sincerity, but his scar and Tutela wouldn't let him.
I wonder if we know who the Masked Lady is, but we just don't know yet. If we'll all be surprised and wonder why we didn't see it before. Or if she's an original character. She's taking her own revenge, but her motives aren't completely clear, unless I've forgotten something, which is entirely possible.
Wonderful chapter, as always.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:28 am (UTC)I imagine Harry as indecisive/weak in at least one thing: if someone asks him for help, it's very hard for him to say no. So once his initial anger at Ginny is past, there's a danger he'll feel guilty and want to go back to her.
Harry was stunned that Narcissa liked him, if only because he thought she would believe he'd gotten Draco involved in danger from the war.
Well, the Masked Lady's identity is revealed a few chapters hence. I hope it will make sense. I've had several guesses so far, and they've all been interesting.
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 02:50 am (UTC)Teddy!! That was so abrupt. One minute, they're all talking about Remus and Tonks and the next, Teddy and Andromeda are potentially burned to death. Way to catch me off guard, haha.
Please do write more soon! I really hope everyone's alright.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:28 am (UTC)And thanks!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:17 am (UTC)But still...this gave me chills. Lots and lots of chills. You write cliffhangers so well!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:29 am (UTC)And thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:56 am (UTC)Narcissa is win. Really, I have always loved Narcissa, and I'm glad she and harry had that little chat, because at this point, he needs all the assurence he can get. I've noticed that now that he's moved into Malfoy Manor, he's around people who are actualy looking out for him, instead of expecting to be looked after; Draco, Tutela, and Narcissa. Oh, and I adore Tutela, by the way. Snowy Owls are so gorgeous, and she has such personality! Tutela placed one talon gently on his shoulder, with the suggestion that she could put more weight behind it, were she so inclined.. That was one of my favorite Tutela-bits. And Harry seems a lot more inclined to listen to and take comfort in her, wich makes me really glad he has her. And now Draco is smirking smugly at me in my head. Yes, Draco, you are a genius *eyeroll* *hugs*
Poor Andromeda. I feel so awful for her, loosing her whole family like that. That was pretty Rotten of JKR, I don't care what anyone says. But I love Teddy to pieces. And he can't be dead because this fic is epilogue compliant! So there! But..... Andromeda could be..... and Teddy could still be in a lot of trouble.... like kidnapping and hurt and Oh, oh dear, now I'm worried for him again *wibble*
Lovely chapter, darling! Oh, and I friended you xD. I thought I did a while ago, but for some reason I didn't *headdesk* Stupid me. Especialy since you're currently on my top authors list ;). Anyway, I shall be anxiously biting my fingernails until next update!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 02:31 am (UTC)Harry just can't doubt Tutela the way he could a human. Even Draco and Narcissa could want things from him (one reason Draco wanted Tutela- to guard Harry from his own inappropirate desires) or have contradictory feelings towards him. Harry knows she can't.
You do find out what happened to Andromeda and Teddy. Eventually.
And thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 11:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 11:15 am (UTC)Not Teddy! This is sooo sad!
Ps:Cissa is THE queen.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 11:49 am (UTC)Teddy! Here I was, picturing this peaceful little ten-year old... and then it was, uh, a bit disrupted. I really like Teddy so far, even though we don't know too much about him. Your's is one of the only fics I've seen that shows how Harry interacts with him, and I've wondered about that since HP7.
I can't wait to read the next chapter!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 02:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:12 pm (UTC)First let me say that I am not a Ginny fan AT ALL – in any context except that of sister/friend to Harry. Having said that; I do feel somewhat sorry for her in this fic. Its not so much ‘aw you poor dear’ as it is ‘you damn fool you didn’t deserve him anyway and its only through you own manipulations that you lost him for good.’ : | (Does that make sense?)
I don’t know yet how I feel about the research of the life debts versus the marriage vows. It seems kind of manipulative of her to put that in. (Of course we can assume that she’s not in her right mind and is using whatever she can to bring Harry to her way of thinking.) But it smacks of an attempt to force him to be with her. And the last line of Ginny’s letter about it meaning more to so many other people is an obvious attempt to guilt him back while playing on his habit of putting other people’s happiness before his own. Yeah she took some of the blame, but does she really feel that way or is this just using whatever she can to get him back in her clutches. I mean in one letter she tried 'I was wrong - let's try again;' 'Its best for the children - lets try again;' 'you can't evade the marriage vows anyway - let's try again;' and the previously foolproof 'it'll make so many people happy - let's try again.'
I’m glad that Draco didn’t push Harry (leave it to the life-debt). He’s being remarkably understanding. And Narcissa is very likeable in this story. She’s so obviously devoted to Draco. I really enjoyed her conversation with Harry – and his initial terror. :D
I absolutely adore Tutela (how did you come up with the name btw). She’s so protective of Harry and gets her point across brilliantly. (…Tutela placed one talon gently on his shoulder, with the suggestion that she could put more weight behind it, were she so inclined.”)
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 03:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 04:45 pm (UTC)he still wasn’t sure that he wanted to read a letter that could make Harry look like that. Awwwwwwwww! *hugs him*
It was absolutely rambling and incoherent LOL!!! Haven't we all written stupid, whiny letters like that? *shudders* Still hate her, of course, but I sympathized for an instant.
For the children, Harry Manipulative bitch!!! Yeah, hate.
We think they were burned to death. Oh my gaaaaawwwwd!!!! I have a suspicion where you're going with this. But that's only because I've made it my life's mission to out-think you. Can't wait to see if I'm right...
no subject
Date: 2007-11-09 08:49 pm (UTC)Oh. I hope that they are all right.
awww. i like little teddy.
"no sign" that means they better be alive!
OMG!!!
I need the next chapter ASAP!!
love your writing style
Date: 2007-11-10 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 05:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-11 04:49 pm (UTC)!!!!!!
!!!!!!
!!!!!!
please!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-12 03:02 am (UTC)Anyway, other than the fact that you nearly caused me heart failure, I've really been enjoying this story. And I absolutely LOVED Narcissa in this chapter!
Beautiful work.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-13 12:21 am (UTC)Just want to let you know how much I LOVE this, and you!
*prepares popcorn for next chapter*