A Promise Kept - Chapter 62 - Easier to Bear

Easier to Bear

It was clear to see that the past days had been trying at best for them, and though they were relieved, elated even, that their children had been returned, Sirius did not miss the hesitation in each of their eyes.

He couldn’t blame them.

It was not easy to spend any length of time believing that your children would be murdered to ensure you cooperated with a man you despised as much as you feared, but now was the time for them to come together, to make the needed difference on the political field where it was needed most.

“It won’t be enough,” Boot pointed out. “Believe me, Black, I want them to pay for what they have done more than anything else, but with Yaxley in charge, his squad of cronies harassing everyone at every turn, I cannot put my family at risk without reassurances. We all know what he is like. If he wishes to get to us, he will find a way.

Macmillan, Abbott, and Smith nodded their agreement.

“I get it,” Sirius sighed. “I understand just as much as you how resourceful he is, but if we do not have the courage to do what we must, there is no hope of removing Yaxley.”

“We do not have enough votes,” Smith reiterated. “At best, we can hope for a tie, and that changes nothing. Yaxley will remain in his position, and we will only increase the size of the targets on our backs.”

Sirius nodded, his gaze shifting from one man to the next.

“And if we could have the numbers, or if Yaxley was removed from the equation?”

The other lords shared a look amongst themselves, and Macmillan cleared his throat.

“If you can guarantee it, you will have my support.”

“And mine,” Boot assured him.

“Mine too,” Abbott promised, “but only if a suitable candidate can be found, someone trustworthy.”

“Mine too, if you can promise those things, Black.”

He took a sip of his Firewhiskey as he continued to ponder his next move.

“I can’t say that I like it, Sirius,” Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I get it, I do. Something needs to change, but, well, killing Yaxley…”

“Is the only way,” Sirius broke in. “We do not have the clout to replace him outright, and even if we did, we need much more than we do to get a vote of no confidence against him Even then, it will take months for it to go through. If he was out of the equation, and especially if Harry advocated for someone when the time is right, we can do it.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” he said cautiously, “but who would be willing to take the position? Voldemort will come for them immediately.”

“You.”

“Me?” Arthur scoffed. “I would never get the votes…”

“Yes, Arthur, you would. As little as it means to me, you’re a pureblood, so that will go in your favour with those that would never elect a muggleborn or half-blood.”

Arthur shook his head.

“Why not Lily?”

“She would kill me if I suggested it. You should’ve seen her reaction when I asked her to consider taking the Potions post at Hogwarts. No, she would never go for it.”

“I don’t know, Sirius, I can’t imagine being elected. My family name…”

“Is among the oldest in the country, and if both me and Harry advocate for you, it could work.”

“Could,” Arthur pointed out.

“I think you would be surprised.”

The man deflated, and Sirius poured him another drink.

“Just, think about it, Arthur.”

The redhead met his gaze and nodded.

“I will,” he snorted, “but there is a long way to go before we get to me even being nominated.”

“Of course.”

It would not be easy getting to Yaxley.

From what Sirius had gathered, the man did not leave his office or home without his guard surrounding him. He was as paranoid as Moody and could not be accused of being a fool.

No, the task ahead of him was not a simple one, but a necessary one, and Sirius was determined to see it through. It would take something significant to make such a difference, after all, and one way or the other, Yaxley had to go.

He certainly would not do so willingly, which left only one option.

The man must die.

(Break)

“I read through the contract just a little over a year ago,” Sabine murmured. “Nothing short of me or him dying can void it, and if either of us were to try, our magic would be forfeit, and the monetary penalty is considerable, numbering in the millions.”

“That sounds completely stupid.”

“It is, but that is how the bigger families in America secure their futures and spare themselves the shame or embarrassment of being shunned. No one would go against it. The price is too high.”

Harry nodded his agreement.

At least, from his understanding, the British were somewhat more sensible with potential marriage contracts between families. Each one was carefully considered, and treated with caution, just in case something went awry.

“I should go home, shouldn’t I? If I don’t, I won’t be able to bring myself to leave.”

Before Harry could answer, the radio blared into life, and he cursed himself for not turning off the automatic updates on breaking news. It was something Sirius had implemented when he’d lived here so many years prior, and Harry hadn’t gotten around to changing it.

‘In breaking news, a severe incident has been reported to have taken place at St Mung’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It is being reported that the Dark Lord attacked the hospital, but was rebuffed by the efforts of the Auror Department, and none other than Harry Potter himself who…”

With a flick of his wand, he turned off the radio, not wanting to discuss what had happened, but Sabine had other ideas, shooting him a glare as she turned it back on.”

She had been horrified by what he’d done, but when Harry had explained what had happened, oddly, Sabine seemed to calm down, even if he had not been able to reveal every detail to her.

Now, however, Harry’s thoughts were far from St Mungo’s, from Voldemort, and everything else that wasn’t right before him.

“I wish I didn’t have to go back,” Sabine murmured.

She looked almost as haunted as she had when Harry had found her in the basement of Malfoy Manor, and somehow, more defeated.

“I wish I could…”

She broke off and shook her head. Throwing her arms around his neck, she began to silently sob quietly, and Harry swallowed deeply as he held her.

He wanted nothing more than to take her away from here, to take her back to Britain, but he knew such a thing was not possible. Sabine would lose her magic, and that wasn’t even considering the other implications.

No, Harry had taken his selfish moments, and even though he wanted more of them, it was not something he could do to her, nor would he allow her to do it to herself.

“Come on,” he urged. “Standing here will only make it harder.”

She nodded and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before leading them towards the house, and her waiting family.

For three days, for the most part, the two of them had been allowed to enjoy each other a final time, and if Harry were honest with him, it was both the best and worst thing that could’ve happened.

Oh, he would treasure the additional memories, but now, he would find himself scrambling to mend his broken heart, just as he had the first time around.

With a nod of encouragement, Sabine opened the front door of the Van Droombeeld home and was immediately swept into her mother’s arms.

She was loved.

Sabine’s mother was not so silent in her own sobbing, and she fussed over her daughter as any doting mother would whose child had endured the most harrowing of experiences.

“Oh, my little girl,” she whispered, checking her over to ensure she was as well as could be expected.

Before Harry could contemplate what was happening, he found himself being pulled into her arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t have any words…”

She broke off, and Harry awkwardly returned the embrace.

“As my wife said, we have no words. There is nothing I could give you that would ever be enough, Harry Potter, but know that you have our gratitude, and if there is anything we can do for you, you need only ask,” he finished, offering his hand.

Somewhat reluctantly, Hary accepted it.

He did not like Augustine Van Droombeeld by any stretch, certainly held little respect for him, but he was still Sabine’s father.

The offered hand from Marcus, however, was taken more readily.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

In truth, he did not know what else to say, and with a nod, he took his leave of the Van Droombeeld home, not looking back, even when he felt Sabine’s gaze following his every step.

When he reached the gates, he released a deep breath before activating his portkey, doing his utmost to ignore the pang in his chest he knew he would not be rid of for some time.

It was bad enough knowing he would likely never see her again, but worse that if he did, she would already be married and likely have children.

Harry smiled sadly at the thought, but he’d meant what he’d said to her parents upon agreeing to rescue her. If Sabine could find a semblance of happiness in the life that had been laid out before her, then it would make it just that much easier for him to bear.

Well, that was what Harry told himself as he turned on the wireless, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Sirius’s patronus.

‘Harry, there will be an Order meeting in around an hour.’

He shook his head.

He had nothing to say to any of them, nor did he wish to speak. Harry wanted nothing more than to be alone whilst he centred himself and shifted his focus once more to the war he found himself embroiled in, and not the matters of his heart that could not be resolved so readily.

(Break)

The skin on the entire left side of his face was puckered, still painful, and what he could see of his eyes was milky from the blindness that plagued him.

His mother had done all she could to undo the damage, but every Healer she had consulted had told her the same thing; it was unrepairable.

This was Draco’s face now, and as he ran a finger over the purplish flesh, he grimaced at his own touch. The skin was sensitive, still weeping from time to time, and ugly to look upon.

“We cannot go back! You saw what happened to our home, and our son!”

“And if we do not, he will find us!”

His parents were whispering again and only felt safe doing so because they were not in Britain.

Draco had been brought to Japan to consult with another expert, who had simply shaken his head at the sight of his wounds.

It was hopeless.

The moment the curse had torn through his flesh, Draco had known there was little that could be done to fix it. He’d seen Alastor Moody’s wounds, and though his were numerous, Draco’s one looked worse than all of them combined.

“I would rather take our chances,” his mother whispered. “Lucius, Draco almost died, and Potter, he is an animal. He unleashed a dragon on our home. This war, this isn’t like the last one.”

“I know that! I have seen what Potter is capable for myself! If he wins…”

“Will he?”

Silence followed his mother’s question, and Draco leaned his ear closer to the door.

“There was a time I believed the Dark Lord was invincible, but now, he has met his match. Potter will come of age in a matter of weeks, and when he does, he will not avoid taking his seat on the Wizengamot. The people will rally behind him, and from what I have witnessed, yes, he might just win. What happens then, Narcissa? Do you think he will just let us continue with our lives? No, he will want the blood of every last one of us. If it isn’t Azkaban for the rest of our days, it will be death, and still, that is the best option we have. If the Dark Lord wins and we are not there…”

“So that is it? We are to return to him and pray that he wins.”

“Yes, that is what we must do, and hope that he has not finally taken on more than he could handle. With Dumbledore and Bagnold, it was different. Now, it is Potter the entire country is looking to, and the boy is not like either of them. He is a killer, as ruthless as the Dark Lord, and to us, all that more dangerous.”

“Which means we should flee.”

His father snorted.

“The Dark Lord hunting us would be a terrible thing, but equally so if it is Potter. We have only one choice, and that is to return to his side.”

Draco frowned.

He had never heard his father speak with fear in his voice, nor his mother with such concern.

He had grown up under the man’s tutelage, had been reminded every day just how much better he was than the riffraff of the country. He was a Malfoy, a pureblood of the highest order, and yet, they spoke of a half-blood the same age as him as though he was the Dark Lord himself that had turned against them.

He didn’t quite understand all that had happened, or what had changed these past months, but he couldn’t deny that things were different now, that it wasn’t as it had been when he’d first learned of the Dark Lord’s return.

His father had been excited, proud to serve him once more, and now, he seemed to only be doing so in a bid to save his own life, and those of his family.

For Draco, it no longer mattered.

His own future was not what he’d envisioned as a boy and was bleaker than he could’ve imagined.

Just the scars alone would see it so, and there was no manor for him to inherit. If Potter had his way, there would be nothing for him except a cell in Azkaban at best, and yet, he knew his father was right.

If they wished to have any chance of living beyond the war, they would need to return to Britain.

(Break)

She wiped away the condensation on the mirror. Her skin was pale, her eyes sunken slightly, and she looked gaunt.

Sabine wasn’t surprised by her appearance. For months, she had gotten little sleep, little exercise, and no sunlight. A stranger might think that she was a vampire, but she was alive.

Thanks to Harry Potter, she yet breathed.

Even so, she was thinner than she was used to, but it was her thoughts, and the memories of what happened that plagued her most.

She shook her head as they began haunting her once more, frowning as she caught sight of a hair tie on the marble counter of the bathroom. It wasn’t hers.

It belonged to someone with much thicker and longer hair than hers, and it did not smell of the shampoo she used.

No, this belonged to another, another girl Harry had opened his home too.

The very thought elicited a pang of jealousy within her.

Not that she had any right to feel such a way.

What Harry did and with whom was not her business, after all.

Sabine had read the letter the imposter had given to him, and she could only imagine how dejected he’d felt, how worthless, and the thoughts that had plagued him upon receiving it.

She knew it wasn’t her fault, knew that she would never have ended things between them in such a callous way, and yet, she felt guilty for it.

For months, Harry had believed he’d been simply discarded, that she’d not given him a second thought, and rightfully so, he’d moved on. Still, that didn’t stop it from hurting Sabine just as much as it had hurt him, and as she took her leave of the bathroom, she found him holding a ball of fire, manipulating it in the palm of his hand.

How he had not burned himself horribly, she didn’t know. Even from several feet away, she could feel the heat radiating from it.

As with most other things he managed to achieve, it was quite the marvel.

“I’m sorry,” she said in just above a whisper.

“Sorry?” Harry asked with a frown.

“For everything.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t fight back the sob that broke free, and Harry immediately approached, extinguishing the fire before wrapping his arms around her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this was your fault.”

“You still got hurt and risked your life to get us out of there.”

“To get you out of there,” Harry murmured.

Sabine met his gaze, as much a mistake as it was needed.

“Me?”

“I knew the others had been taken, but it wasn’t until I learned that you were there that I acted. As beneficial as it was freeing them, what I did was all for you.”

Sabine shook her head.

“You shouldn’t have…”

“It was worth it,” Harry cut in. “It always will be.”

It broke her heart just as much as it filled her with warmth to hear the words fall so easily from his lips, and although she knew it would only make it harder when she inevitably returned home, she kissed him.

She would treasure every moment.

For the three days she’d been with Harry, she’d allowed herself to taste the forbidden fruit, to take all she could of him at every possible moment knowing that it would soon come to an end.

Right now, her heart was heavier than it had ever been, and still, Sabine regretted nothing.

It was a knock at the door that pulled her from her thoughts, and she deflated.

For the past several hours, she had answered all of the questions her parents had asked, and she hoped she would be left alone for a while at least to find her feet; to begin getting over all she had endured these past months.

Evidently, that wasn’t to be.

“Come in,” she called.

It was Marcus who entered, and he offered her a reserved smile as he took a seat on the bed next to her.

“I’m not here to grill you,” he assured her. “I just wanted to see how you are doing?”

Sabine could only shrug in response.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

“You feel as though you have traded one prison for another.”

“Something like that.”

“I know how that feels,” he said sadly. “Probably not as you do, but I remember one day being a student at Ilvermorny with my own dreams, and shortly after, I was married to someone I didn’t know. My dreams were gone, as was my freedom.”

Sabine nodded.

That was exactly how she’d been feeling for months now.

“Harry told me it was you that found him.”

“I did, and he did what no other could. He found you. Sabine, you should’ve seen him when I told him what had happened. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

It wasn’t something the two of them had discussed much, and she looked towards her older brother questioningly.

“He’s a frightening young man when he is angry, but it wasn’t his anger that fuelled him as much as it was his fear. He was terrified something would happen to you. Do you know what he did?”

She shook her head.

“He marched straight to Ilvermorny to find the person impersonating you. I don’t know the details, but when he returned a few hours later, that man was dead, and he’d already decided on his plan. He came here and took both of the men Voldemort had tasked with watching over mother and father. Father says Harry was particularly ruthless with them until he had everything he needed. That young man would not have stopped until he brought you home. There wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t have done for you.”

Sabine knew that. Harry had proven it by tearing his way through the Malfoy home.

“He destroyed that house,” she murmured, “and anybody who stood in his way.”

“And then let a dragon loose on them, from what I hear.”

She smiled at the memory.

She had been terrified by the mere sight of Norbert.

“He did.”

Marcus chuckled.

“He is quite something, and I think father has finally met a man he would not wish to find himself on the wrong side of. More than that, he owes Harry a debt he can never hope to pay. He not only saved you, but father’s reputation. We all owe him. He did not hesitate for a moment, and didn’t rest.”

Sabine knew all of this, and it only served to make it all the more difficult to bear.

Watching Harry walk away was the very worst thing she’d felt these past months, and now, it was overwhelming.

Once more, she found herself attempting to choke back a sob, only to fail miserably, and found herself being held by her brother.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Marcus soothed. “You’re home now.”

Sabine shook her head.

“Then why don’t I feel safe?”

His grip around her tightened.

“You feel safe with Harry.”

Sabine nodded, and Marcus released a deep breath.

“If there was anything I could do to make this better for you, I would, but not even father can go against the contract. Believe me, I read mine more times than I can count to find a way out of it.”

“But you love your wife.”

“I do, but I could never say that I am in love with her. We learned to make the best of our situation, and we grew to care for one another. What I see from the people I work with, those that aren’t tied to the same things that we are, that is love. They want to share things with one another, do things together, and spend each moment they have treasuring it all. I work late most days to avoid going home, make even the flimsiest of excuses to leave for work early. That is the sacrifice we make for the privileges we have in life. Have you seen what it is like to be poor, to be looked down on because of where you were born, or the name you carry? We’ve never had those problems, but we have others.”

“How do you cope with it?”

Marcus frowned at the question.

“Honestly, sometimes, I don’t,” he admitted. “Some days are easy, and others I think of what could’ve been. I just remind myself that I have nothing truly worth complaining about. I was lucky that my wife is intelligent enough to hold a conversation, easy enough on the eyes that she doesn’t repulse me, and above all else, is a kind and incredible mother.”

“You’ve seen what I am marrying.”

Marcus grimaced as he nodded.

“He is…well, not…I mean…”

“He’s a dumbass who is very much the product of his family’s inbreeding?”

Marcus snorted.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

He broke off and squeezed her hand encouragingly.

“You might not be happy in your marriage. There may be days where you wish to strangle the jackass, but you can find happiness in everything else you do. All of this is what you make of it,” he added as he stood. “I know that isn’t much comfort right now, but if you ever need anything, you know where I am.”

He left the room, and though Sabine appreciated his efforts, she felt no better.

She was heartbroken, and with the prospect of what her life was going to be laid out in front of her eyes, there was a small part of her that wished she’d not been rescued at all.

(Break)

He pushed away the bottle of Firewhiskey knowing drinking it would do him no good. He wanted to. He wanted to numb the many conflicting feelings he could not rid himself of. There were things he was certain of, and others he wasn’t.

He wasn’t so sure what would happen in the coming months, Harry’s frame of mind, or even what his godson would do next.

He had no idea what the Dark Lord would do either. The man had always been unpredictable at best, and there was no way of knowing what might come next.

Would he still attempt to see the Muggleborn Registration Act pushed through the Wizengamot before Sirius could gain any momentum, or before Harry took his seat?

It was likely, and at worst, he could succeed.

What Sirius was certain of was something he would not compromise on.

“Edward!”

The dutiful elf appeared before him, offering a bow.

“Master called for Edward.”

“I did. There is someone I need you to find for me. His name is Severus Snape. Do what you can. He should be much easier to locate than Lucius Malfoy.”

“Edward will do his best, Master.”

The elf took his leave of the office, and Sirius’s gaze inevitably came to rest on the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, who remained as still and silent as ever.

“I never did like Snape,” Phineas Nigellus piped up. “He was a crafty little nerk. Always in here as a student, and even when he was Professor, he never stopped whinging. I knew he couldn’t be trusted.”

Sirius nodded his agreement.

“Albus always tried to see the best in people. It was a weakness as much as it was a strength.”

Phineas hummed disapprovingly.

“You should always assume the worst of people until they prove otherwise.”

Sirius chuckled humourlessly, frowning as the fireplace flared into life, and Emmeline stepped out of it.

“I thought I’d find you here. Any word from Harry?”

Sirius shook his head.

“He needs time.”

He’d not arrived at the Order meeting, and he’d not been at the flat when he’d arrived to check in on him.

“He really likes her, doesn’t he?”

“The soppy git is in love.”

“And you’re not?”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at the woman.

“It’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m not being kept from you by things I cannot control. For all of his brilliance and his ability to solve problems, this isn’t one of those things. He knows it, and he is lost.”

“Poor Harry,” Emmeline sighed.

Sirius nodded, wishing there was something he could do for Harry, but there was nothing.

“He needs time.”

“And if time isn’t enough?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius answered honestly. “He will be okay, maybe, eventually. I don’t know.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze, and Sirius was pleased for her company.

His thoughts alone were maudlin, and he did not wish to be plagued by them so much that they affected his ability to function. It would be so easy to lose himself to his anger for Snape, his sadness for Harry, and worry of what would be.

He could not afford to do that.

Hogwarts was relying on him, and for the next weeks, it would be up to him to spearhead any resistance on the Wizengamot until Yaxley was dealt with, or Harry took his seat.

After all he’d done, many would flock to him, would follow his lead, even the neutral families that could not remain on the fence, as much as they wished to, would need to pick a side.

That day was coming sooner than they likely thought, and when it did, Sirius wasn’t certain what would happen.

(Break)

The scar was still an unpleasant hue of purple, but it was already feeling better than it had, even if her sudden need to leave her bed had done the wound no favours.

Tonks traced a finger along it, frowning as she attempted to change it, only for the colour to lighten slightly, but the scar remained. It was frustrating but gave her hope that it might be fixable in the future.

For now, however, it was best left as it was.

It was still uncomfortable, and her muscles were ached in protest of her efforts.

“Nymphadora, you have a visitor,” her mother called through the door of the bathroom.

Losing her had been a much nearer thing than Tonks would ever be pleased with. Had she lost her mother to the Dark Lord, his followers, or a Dementor, she would never have forgiven herself.

Fortunately, that had not been so, and though she tried not to ponder it, it was not so easy not to think about how much worse things could’ve been.

“Madam Bones,” she greeted the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as she entered the living room.

It was odd to see the woman in her parent’s home and was akin to if one of the professors of Hogwarts would have done so during her time as a student.

“Auror Tonks, I hope you are feeling better.”

“Getting there,” she sighed as she took a seat next to Moody, who was wearing a pink, fluffy dressing gown her mother had lent him.

She suspected the woman had done so for her own amusement, or perhaps as a punishment for the man’s insistence that he did not need to be here.

“Good,” Bones replied sincerely. “Alastor?”

“Aye, better than I’ve been for a while,” he answered with a grin, tapping his new leg.

Tonks had caught him admiring it several times since they’d returned home, even if he had not appreciated her father’s comment that he looked part robot.

“I see,” Bones mused aloud. “St Mungo’s saw fit to upgrade you prosthetic.”

“Aye, something like that. I’m as nimble as a cat now.”

“Well, I am pleased for you, Alastor. Now, the reason I am here is to get your version of events as to what happened at St Mungo’s.”

Tonks opened her mouth to speak, but Moody beat her to it, omitting some of the things Harry had done, namely his experiment with the elements to get them through the sealed doors.

How that would be fixed, she didn’t know, nor the street outside.

When she had taken her leave of the scene, the Magical Catastrophes squad had arrived and was trying to figure out the same thing.

The street looked as though it had been hit by a muggle bomb from the destruction caused by Harry and Voldemort.

“Ah yes, Mr Potter,” Amelia sighed. “That is twice he has saved my life now, and Susan’s. Do you think he would consider joining the department?”

Moody’s laugh in response was almost a cackle.

“You would have him in your office every other day for insubordination, reckless endangerment, and excessive force, Bones. I know the lad well enough to know that he would probably be your very best and worst Auror at the same time. Besides, he’d never work for the Ministry.”

The corner of Amelia Bones’ lips twitched in something of a smile as she nodded.

“Auror Tonks?”

“You could ask him, but he’d probably laugh in your face.”

“I thought as much,” Bones sighed as she stood. “Well, let us just hope he remains one of the good ones. I couldn’t imagine a world that he wasn’t,” she added with a grimace. “Good luck with the rest of your recovery’s. Let me know when you feel ready to return to work.”

Tonks’ father showed the woman out, and Moody groaned as he stretched, once more admiring his new limb.

“You didn’t tell her everything.”

“Aye, if I told her, she’d have to report it, and as we were the only two to see it, there’s no one else to drop Potter in it. There’s no reason for him to get another headache. He’s got enough going on.”

Tonks nodded her agreement.

“Besides, I owe the lad one. More than one,” Moody said with a grin, tapping his leg, and grinning at the metal clang.

Tonks rolled her eyes at him.

They both owed Harry one, and she could only be grateful that he’d been there when he was.

Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been.

(Break)

He would’ve liked to show Sabine around the ranch.

It was the place he’d been most happy throughout his life, but he couldn’t bring himself to, he couldn’t be reminded of her so much when he was here.

This was his sanctuary away from everything, and now, even his aching heart.

Oh, she remained on his mind, and he couldn’t rid himself of that deeply set pang in his chest, but here, he felt as though he could breathe, could think just a little more clearly about what he would do next.

He needed to keep his mind occupied, just as he had the first time he’d received the note from Crouch he believed to be from Sabine.

Somehow, already, this was much worse.

It wasn’t as though the two of them had not been granted some final moments together, but maybe the glimpse of what could be gifted to them had indeed been as much a curse as it was a blessing.

Still, as much as Harry wished to wallow in self-pity, if only for a while, he needed to keep himself focused.

The war was at a pivotal point, and he knew he could not afford to make any errors moving forward.

He’d been lucky when it came to using the Horcrux, and now, he needed to ensure he locate the rest of them, so that when Riddle was dead, there was no chance her would ever resurface.

With that in mind, he retrieved the notes left to him by Dumbledore and read through them once more.

That was all Harry had, after all.

Note from the former Headmaster, ideas of his own where the Horcruxes might be, but also a rather extensive list of names he knew to be his enemies.

Perhaps the Horcruxes would not come to him so easily now, but Riddle’s followers were another matter.

He had witnessed it for himself at St Mungo’s, and at Malfoy Manor just how many had chosen to side with the Dark Lord. There were scores of Death Eaters out there, willingly following the man’s orders to kill, and carry out his orders.

Thus far, for the most part, they had been unable to do so without consequence, and as Harry continued to ponder what to do next, he wondered just how they would cope if they were the ones living in fear.

His foray into Knockturn Alley had not been his best decision, but it appeared they were lurking in every nook and cranny of Britain.

Maybe, just maybe, he too should spend some more time in the shadows, only this time, he would not merely be listening. No, Britain would become his hunting ground now, and he would teach the Death Eaters what it was like to live in a constant state of fear.