All For you - Chapter 16

Chapter 16

She’d been back at work for a few days now, but this was the first time Amelia had been allowed out on patrol. Auror Grimm had insisted she be checked over by a Healer and that she now attend mandatory mind-healing sessions once a week for the foreseeable future or until he was satisfied that she was indeed fully recovered from her ordeal.

‘What you experienced is among the worst things any on the job can. Stone the bloody crows, Bones, you might tell me you’re doing just fine, but I want a professional to tell me. Now, are you a qualified counsellor?’

‘No, Sir.’

‘Exactly,’ Grimm declared. ‘Don’t argue with me, Bones. I want you out there removing the dregs of society from our streets. Merlin knows it’s a forsaken cesspool of shit and scum, but rules are rules, and you will follow them.’

Grimm wouldn’t budge, so Amelia was subjected to a rigorous physical assessment and then her first of what she hoped to be few mind-healing sessions before she was permitted to be back in the field.

“How’re you finding it, lass?” Alastor asked.

“I’m fine, Moody, you don’t need to check every five seconds.”

It was becoming frustrating, and though Amelia was certainly more aware of her surroundings than she’d previously been, she was coping.

Still, she kept her hand firmly wrapped around her wand, ready to react immediately should she need to.

“I’m fine,” she reiterated as Alastor shot her a probing look.

He held his hands up placatingly.

“I just think you should’ve taken a little more time before being back out here,” he said concernedly.

Amelia released a deep breath.

Both Grimm and the Mind Healer had said the same, but Amelia couldn’t stand sitting behind her desk any longer. She didn’t become an Auror to read reports or sign off on paperwork.

She wanted to be out here where she was needed, and she wouldn’t let the uneasiness she couldn’t deny she was feeling get in the way of that.

“Come on, I’d say it’s about time for some lunch,” Alastor declared when they’d finished another pass of Diagon Alley. “What do you fancy?”

“A sandwich will be fine,” Amelia replied.

Alastor nodded and the two of them headed towards the deli only a short walk away.

When both had been served, they took a seat inside the shop. With it being January, it was far too cold to be outside and unmoving.

“I’m glad you’re back, Bones,” Alastor offered sincerely.

“I’m glad to be back,” Amelia snorted. “The time off was nice, but I don’t do well being idle for too long.”

“Aye, I know. I get restless too.”

Amelia nodded and began eating her lunch, shooting furtive glances towards the passers-by.

She couldn’t deny she was much more alert now, perhaps bordering on paranoid, but as the Mind Healer had pointed out, it was an understandable after-effect of what had happened.

“What’s going on over there?” Moody asked with a frown, nodding towards where two of their colleagues were ushering the crowd away from one of the side-streets. “Come on, let’s see if they need any help.”

Amelia followed Alastor from the shop towards where the other Aurors had blocked the road off.

“Need anything, lads?” Moody asked as they reached them.

One of the men, Holroyd, nodded.

“A body has been dropped here,” he sighed. “One of the old dears from the fabric shop found it.”

“Impossible,” Alastor replied with a frown. “We passed through here only twenty minute ago.”

“Well, you either missed it, or it’s been left since,” Holroyd replied with a shrug.

Alastor’s frown deepened, and he gestured for Amelia to follow.

“Like we would’ve missed this,” he grumbled as they came upon the scene.

The body was of a young man, and his death had not been untroubled.

He had four deep gashes in his back, and his skin was pale and clammy.

“Killing Curse,” Moody muttered. “The cuts were done whilst he was alive, but it was the curse that finished him.”

Amelia swallowed deeply at the sight of the body, remembering vividly that she could’ve ended up in a similar state if things had been different.

“Well, we will have to wait for Jenny to confirm it,” she replied.

“Aye, and in the meantime, we have a crime scene to locate,” Moody sighed. “This didn’t happen here. Wherever it is, there will be blood, and lots of it. The question I have is; why was the body left here, and in the middle of the day? It’s risky.”

“Maybe the killer panicked and just dropped it off at the first place they could think of?” Amelia suggested.

Alastor nodded thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “You’re probably not far off. They’ve made a bloody mess of it though.”

“Any idea who it is?”

Alastor shook his head.

“I don’t recognise him, but Jenny will be able to tell us more. Come on, let’s preserve the area from the other side. There’s not much else we can do now. He’s got no portkey and any trace is cold.”

Amelia shot the body a final glance and released a calming breath as she did as instructed.

It was difficult not to dwell on the thought that it could’ve been her, and though she knew she was lucky, that feeling of dread that had been with her since she woke in the basement remained as prominent as ever.

(Break)

‘I was thinking of installing magical greenhouses, so we wouldn’t just be relying on food production for an income,’ Harry explained. ‘We could put a dozen or so on that field there.’

Ivor, the werewolf the others had elected to manage the land, nodded and noted it on his piece of parchment, adding to the many other plans Harry had concocted since arriving.

There was so much land here, and it would be wasted if it was not put to use.

‘I think it is a great idea, Mr Jameson. All of them are great, but I’m not sure we can do all of this,’ Ivor said apologetically. “Most of us aren’t blessed with magic and those of us that are, well, we never went to school. They wouldn’t have us, except Durmstrang and our families couldn’t afford it.’

Harry nodded his understanding.

‘We really want to help, Mr Jameson and we are grateful for everything you’re doing for us…’

Harry waved the man off.

‘Don’t worry, Ivor, I will find a way to make it work,’ he assured the werewolf. ‘Is there anything else you need at all?’

Ivor offered him an appreciative smile.

‘Well, we really could use some more healing potions for the little ones. They’re always so sore after the full moon,’ he explained. ‘We have lots of food and shelter now, thanks to you. There’s not much else we want for.’

Harry frowned thoughtfully as he nodded.

‘I will arrange for the potions,’ he promised. ‘Better yet, I can teach you how to make them yourself. When we get the greenhouses running, you can grow your own ingredients.’

Harry had known it wouldn’t be easy getting the werewolves settled on the land, but he’d not expected it to be as difficult was.

They wanted to help him create a thriving community where they could live in peace, have a purpose, and be free from the persecution each of them had faced throughout their lives, but because society had failed them so, they were poorly prepared for it.

Harry didn’t hold it against the pack.

All they’d ever known had been a life on the road or on the run, and they’d simply done what was necessary to survive.

As Ivor had pointed out, even those with magic had not received a formal education, so they were not very adept with their wands.

Having seen it for himself, their ability was on par with his second years at best, and it simply wouldn’t be enough for them to survive without reverting back to their ways or for the farming venture to be a success.

They needed Harry, and without him, they would either perish or fail, perhaps even both.

He’d been back from Canada for only a week, and yet, he could scarcely think of anything else since he’d returned.

Harry may have rescued them from Greyback’s clutches, but as things were, they were only just a little better off.

Releasing a deep sigh, he finished his marking for the day and checked his watch.

He had a few hours yet before he was due at the Bones for dinner, and with the knowledge of the task ahead of him, he removed the notebook he’d been writing in since he arrived.

As things were, his supply of gold was sufficient, but with much to do to make the farm a profitable business, Harry knew it wouldn’t hurt to have more in reserve.

Thumbing through the pages, he stopped when he came to one that would provide him with such, and a grin crested his lips.

It didn’t hurt that it would be a fun excursion. It certainly had been the first time around.

Firstly, however, he knew he should speak with Dumbledore.

There were things that needed to be discussed and Harry would rather they were not hanging him over him longer than necessary.

(Break)

The holidays always seemed to go by so quickly, and though so much had happened over the Christmas period, Albus felt he’d not been able to enjoy the break as much as he usually would.

Still, the end of the school year would come quickly enough, and he had plenty to keep himself occupied over the next six months.

The fifth and seventh years were preparing to sit their OWLs and NEWTs, respectively, and there was always work to be done to ensure the school continued to function.

“Come in, Harry,” he called as a knock sounded at his door.

The man entered and Albus offered him a smile.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important, Headmaster.”

Albus waved him off.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” he assured Harry. “What can I do for you?”

Before he could open his mouth to speak, Albus already knew the direction the conversation was going. He’d been here several times over the years, and he’d hoped that the young man sitting before him would be different.

“I just wanted to inform you in advance that I won’t be returning to teach next year,” Harry said candidly. “It’s not that I don’t want to be here or that I’m not enjoying it. I would like nothing more than to stay on, but I inadvertently took on more responsibility than I anticipated when we captured Greyback.”

“The other werewolves?” Albus asked, surprised by the revelation.

Harry nodded.

“I have purchased some land in Canada where I am settling them,” he explained. “My intention is to start a farm and nursery for magical plants. The werewolves are keen to run it, but most of them do not have magic, and those who do are poorly educated. I need to invest some time there to teach them and get the place up and running properly. It is considerable work, as I’m sure you understand, and I cannot just abandon them, not when I displaced them.”

Albus leaned back in his chair and nodded.

“It is a very noble and giving thing you are doing for them, Harry,” he praised. “I must say, I am so very proud of you for it. Of course, I regret losing you terribly, but I understand and support your reasons.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he stood and offered his hand.

Albus accepted the proffered limb.

“I do hope you will return to the castle when the time is right for you,” he said sincerely. “You have proven yourself to be an excellent teacher and there will always be a place here at Hogwarts for you.”

“I will bear that in mind,” Harry replied with a smile before taking his leave of the office.

He meant it, and Albus hoped he would return.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had been lacking in professors of such a high calibre as Harry Jameson, and it would be a shame if he never graced the halls here again.

He would.

Harry may be saying goodbye at the end of the school year, but Albus had every faith he would indeed return to teach once more.

(Break)

It had been a frustrating day at best.

With the body having been collected, Amelia and Alastor had done their utmost to find the crime scene where the murder had taken place. However, without a full report on what had happened, they had more chance of finding a demiguise in the woods.

“Amelia!” Jenny gasped as she entered the examination room.

The air was all but squeezed from her lungs as her friend pulled her into a tight embrace.

Amelia had written to Jenny to assure the woman she was okay after her ordeal, but this was the first time she’d seen each other. Of course, the letter had been brief and lacking much detail other than she’d been found, and Amelia expected she was going to be grilled when Jenny had finished trying to suffocate her.

“You’re back at work already?” she asked with a frown.

Amelia nodded.

“I got tired of doing nothing.”

Jenny hummed.

“Are you sure you should be?”

“You sound like everyone else.”

“You mean the people who care about you?”

“Jenny, I’m fine,” Amelia reassured her. “I had to have a physical, and now I will be seeing a Mind Healer once a week to make sure I’m coping.”

“Are you coping?”

Amelia nodded.

“I am,” she sighed. “I have my moments, but locking myself up at home isn’t going to help me. I need to get back into the swing of things.”

Jenny didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t comment on it further.

That didn’t mean, however, that she would let the entire topic go.

“Well, what happened?” she pressed. “All I know is that we were supposed to be having dinner, and then you were snatched. How were you found?”

“Jameson,” Amelia answered.

Jenny’s eyes widened.

“The very same Jameson who disappeared to Hogwarts and you didn’t hear from?”

Amelia nodded.

“Moody told him about what happened, and he found me,” she explained with a shrug.

“And?”

“And what?”

“Do you expect me to believe that he found you, freed you, and that’s it?”

Amelia narrowed her eyes at her friend.

“Well, I did live with him for a few days after whilst he was making sure it was safe for me,” she revealed, scowling as Jenny began to clap.

“Well, what happened whilst you were shacked up together?”

“We weren’t shacked up,” Amelia huffed.

Jenny quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing happened,” Amelia reiterated. “He took care of me, and then he came to our home for Christmas, and he might be coming for dinner tonight,” she added, already anticipating the squeal of delight. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Come on, do you really expect me to believe, after everything, it isn’t like that, even just a little bit?”

Amelia simply shook her head.

“It’s not, well, I don’t think it is,” she sighed. “I don’t know. With everything that’s happened, I’ve not thought about it much.”

“But you like him?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I suppose it’s more complicated than it should be,” Amelia murmured. “Anyway, I didn’t come here for you to delve into my non-existent love life. What have you got for me?” she asked, nodding towards the body.

Jenny pouted, but when she realised that part of the conversation was over, she offered Amelia a pointed look before shifting her attention to her work.

“He died miserably,” she said sadly. “Four deep lacerations to the back and the Killing Curse just before he would’ve bled out. Someone wanted to send him a message.”

“Well, I’d say he got it,” Amelia replied. “Anything else?”

“There’s not much to say. Whoever did this cleaned up after themselves, but they did miss one thing,” she explained as she lifted one of the dead man’s hands. “The sand underneath his fingernails is coastal. Given a little more time, I should be able to narrow down the area for you. I’ll have an answer by the morning.”

Amelia nodded gratefully.

“Thanks, Jenny.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” the blonde replied. “Now, why are you still here? Don’t you have dinner with a certain someone to get ready for?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Amelia huffed, though a smile played at the corner of her lips. “But you’re right. I am done for the day.”

“Give Jameson my best.”

Amelia ignored the teasing tone of her friend as she took her leave of the examination room.

She should’ve known better than to tell Jenny anything, but the woman had a knack for finding things out, so it was better it came from Amelia rather than anything being misconstrued.

Not that there was anything that could be twisted.

Nothing had happened between her and Jameson, and she doubted that would change anytime soon.

Nonetheless, she was looking forward to seeing him, and Amelia couldn’t be certain if that were a good or a bad thing.

(Break)

Harry smiled as he broke through the final layer of brickwork, and he found himself within an enormous tomb filled with intricately decorated wooden crates surrounding a coffin that seemed too big to be for any single person.

He’d been here after another team of Unspeakables had located it as part of his training, but he knew what it had contained prior to his visit.

“Who goes there?” a beery voice demanded.

His smile widened at the sight of the ghost of the Fat Duke.

The man had been a squib born in the 16th century and had somehow won favour with the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth.

What capacity he’d served Her Majesty under, Harry didn’t know, but he suspected the Duke spied on his own people or the muggle parliament and fed information back to Elizabeth.

The Duke hadn’t admitted as much, but he became rather evasive when it was mentioned.

Harry had spoken to the ghost at length during his first visit, and he still found the sheer size of the man amusing. It didn’t help that he chose to wear such vibrant clothes in the form of a purple and yellow pinstriped ensemble.

“Just a passer-by,” Harry answered.

“Well, you’re not welcome. Shoo! Go on, off with you, young man.”

“Not until I get what I came here for,” Harry returned.

“You wish to steal my treasure! No, I will not allow it! GUARDS!”

Whenever he became animated, as he was wont to do, his several chins and jowls wobbled, and his piggy eyes narrowed, giving him the appearance of a giant, overfed infant.

Harry had always believed Dudley to be morbidly obese, but the Fat Duke took indulgence and gluttony to new heights.

“You don’t have any guards,” Harry pointed out. “You’re dead.”

“Well, I do not believe I have ever been so insulted. I’m of a mind to give you a thrashing and have you whipped in the streets.”

“We don’t whip people in the streets anymore,” Harry sighed as he began shrinking the crates. “Just shut up. If you weren’t already dead, I’d be worried you’d have a stroke.”

The Fat Duke stared at him with his mouth agape before puffing himself up to his full, ample size.

“You are an uncouth peasant, and I will not have you pillaging my things.”

He swung a meaty fist, and Harry shuddered as it passed through the side of his head.

“I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t do that again,” he huffed.

The man did so a few more times until he could no longer raise his arm.

“Just wait, peasant, I’m not done yet,” he wheezed.

“How is it that a ghost gets tired?” Harry asked curiously. “Has your obesity transcended to the afterlife? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”

“No, not my doubloons,” the Duke wailed as Harry finished shrinking the crates and placed them in his pocket.

“Maybe it will bring you some comfort to know that this will all be going to a very good cause,” Harry offered. “I thank you and bid you adieu.”

The Fat Duke continued to plead with Harry as he took his leave of the tomb.

He’d been laid to rest on the grounds of his own stately home, which had subsequently been ransacked by the locals who had failed to find the considerable wealth the man had arranged to be buried with him.

Somewhere along the lines, the house itself had been removed, and a wild grove of trees had grown in its place.

The world had forgotten about the Fat Duke until this place was discovered in the late 1990s, and even then, less than a handful of people had learned of his existence.

Still, it had certainly proven to be a profitable excursion for Harry.

The weight of the gold alone would net him a tidy sum, pay for anything needed on the budding farm, and leave him with more money than he would likely ever spend.

It seemed a waste for it to be stored by the Unspeakables in the coming years, especially when it could be put to a much better use, after all.

Apparating back to his home, Harry checked the watch that Amelia had gifted him for Christmas.

He had around an hour before he was due at Bones Manor, so enough time to put away his findings and shower, ready for dinner.

In all, it had been a good day, for the most part.

He’d meant what he said to Dumbledore about wishing to stay on to teach beyond his current tenure, but with everything that needed to be done in Canada, it just wouldn’t be possible.

Perhaps he would be able to return in the future.

It was something he would have to ponder, though for now, he intended to enjoy his final months at the castle.

He couldn’t deny he’d missed it, and although it was odd being a Professor rather than a student, Harry found it did not take anything away from being at Hogwarts.

(Break)

“Not a word,” Amelia warned as she entered the study.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Edgar denied.

Amelia hummed in disbelief.

“Can I at least compliment you?”

“If it does not involve you telling me I’ve made the additional effort or that I clean up well.”

Edgar shook his head and grinned.

“I don’t think I’ll bother then,” he chuckled. “He’s not here yet, anyway.”

“I can see that,” Amelia huffed.

“So, do I need to discuss the possibility of a contract between the two of you?”

Amelia narrowed her eyes at her brother, and he knew he’d crossed the line.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Edgar chuckled.

“I was joking,” he assured her.

“You’d best keep those jokes to yourself,” Amelia warned. “I’ve told you, it’s not like that between us.”

“What’s wrong with Jameson?” Edgar asked with a frown.

Amelia shrugged.

“Nothing,” she acknowledged. “It’s just not what you think it is.”

Edgar didn’t believe her for a moment, but he didn’t comment on it, something Amelia was pleased with.

“Ah, that will be him coming through now or Moody,” Edgar announced, leaving the parlour, and heading towards the entrance hall both Alastor and Harry would be arriving in. “It’s alright, it’s just Moody.”

“Oh, thanks. I didn’t realise my arrival would cause such disappointment,” Alastor growled amusedly.

“We are happy to have you, Moody, as always,” Edgar replied, clapping the man smartly on the shoulder as they entered the parlour.

“Aye, if you say,” Moody chuckled. “Well, lass, you’ve made an effort.”

“Best not say that, Alastor,” Edgar warned.

Moody merely laughed as Amelia glared at him.

“You don’t have to justify yourself, lass.”

“I have no intention to,” Amelia returned airily. “Honestly, you’re such children.”

“Says the one who won’t admit she’s putting more effort in because Jameson is coming,” Moody snorted under his breath.

Amelia heard the man but chose to ignore him.

“Ah, that will be our other guest. Amelia, would you like to greet him?” Edgar asked teasingly.

“I swear I will swing for you,” Amelia huffed as she left the parlour and was at the fireplace to greet Jameson as he arrived.

He graced with a rare, unguarded smile, and Amelia returned it.

“Bones,” he greeted her. “You look…”

“Don’t do it, Jameson,” Amelia cut in. “I’ve already had it from Edgar and Alastor.”

“Then I won’t tell you how beautiful you look in your dress,” he replied as he stepped past her.

Amelia was glad he did so.

She felt her cheeks redden and took a moment to let it pass before following Harry into the parlour.

Why he had such an effect on her, Amelia didn’t know, but it was as frustrating as it was warming.

“Are you alright there, Amelia,” Edgar asked.

“I’m fine.”

He nodded and continued his conversation with Alastor.

“Are you?” Jameson asked quietly.

“I’ll tell you the same as I told him….”

She broke off as he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m fine, mostly,” she answered. “It was my first day back on patrol.”

“And you can’t help but think everyone around you is out to get you,” Harry said knowingly.

Amelia nodded.

“It gets easier,” he assured her. “Give it time, and it will.”

“How long will that take?”

Harry shrugged.

“It’s impossible to say,” he said apologetically, “but it will get better.”

Amelia nodded gratefully.

“Thanks, Jameson.”

“No worries,” he replied with a smile. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Not until after lunchtime,” Amelia sighed. “There’s not much we can do until Jenny gets back to us with a lead. We found a body today, but we need to locate the murder scene to try and piece together what happened. Why do you ask?”

“Sounds ominous,” Jameson said with a thoughtful frown. “Well, I was wondering if you would like to come with me to choose some creatures to house on my land.”

“Are they legal?” Amelia asked.

“Come on, would I do something illegal?”

Amelia quirked an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not a question of whether you would or not, it’s whether you knew you could get away with it.”

“You think so little of me,” Harry chuckled, “but you’re not wrong. I promise, this is all above board and I already have my licences.”

Amelia hummed.

“Then I would love to. What do you have in mind?”

Harry shrugged.

“I was considering Thestrals, but the breeder says he has an array of creatures I may want to consider, depending on their purpose.”

“No basilisks?” Amelia whispered.

“Not this time,” Jameson said with a wink.

“What did happen to…?”

Harry placed a finger on her lips.

She is safe, well, and back where she belongs,” he assured her. “It would do you no good knowing more than that.”

“You know, you are one of the most frustrating people I have met,” Amelia muttered.

“Well, I do try.”

Amelia shook her head.

“Will I get to choose one?”

“That depends on what you choose. I will not have a brigade of kneazles on my land.”

“A brigade?”

“What is the collective term for a group of cats?” Harry asked with a frown.

“A pride?”

“A bastard.”

“A bastard of cats?” Amelia snorted.

“It’s as good as anything else I can think of.”

“You’re going to refer to them as a bastard of cats from now on, aren’t you?”

Harry nodded, and that stupid, boyish grin lit up his face.

“It’s fitting.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at him, but his smile was contagious, and she couldn’t help but return it.

“Honestly, Jameson, what are we going to do with you?”

“I expect there’s a lot of people who’ve asked the same thing,” he chuckled.

Amelia didn’t doubt it, and as they made their way towards the dining room, she watched him closely.

Again, he seemed to be unguarded and more relaxed around her than she’d seen.

She didn’t know if it was such a good thing that she felt the same, but she didn’t fight it. In a way, it was quite the reprieve from the tension she’d been feeling since she returned to work.

And tomorrow, she would be granted another when she accompanied Harry to look at creatures.

What he would come away with, Amelia could not fathom, but she had no doubt it would likely be something that would frighten most people.

However, that was Harry Jameson all over.

He wasn’t like anyone else she’d met.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as he suddenly stiffened.

“I don’t know,” Jameson murmured with a frown. “I suddenly just felt very unsettled.”

“Does that happen often?”

Harry shook his head.

“Only when something isn’t right.”

“What is it?”

Jameson said nothing, but a troubled frown creased his brow.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he said dismissively, though he didn’t seem to believe it himself.

Amelia wondered what it was that could have unsettled the usually unshakeable man, and as they sat down to eat, he seemed somewhat distracted as he seemed to ponder it too.

(Break)

He stared at the locket fondly, remembering how it was it came to his possession. Hepzibah Smith had merely been unfortunate that she had been the owner of it, and though the Dark Lord had nothing against the woman, on the contrary, he quite liked her, he knew she would not part with it.

She simply had to die, and framing the house elf had provided the perfect opportunity to seize his ancestor’s locket, along with another belonging to Helga Hufflepuff.

All these years since, both had remained with him, closely guarded, until the time would arrive for him to part with one.

He’d chosen the locket to protect a part of his soul, and it would do so in this very cave.

He peered around the large space and nodded satisfactorily. It would be perfect once he’d added his own protections.

For now, the locket would continue to remain with him.

His purpose this evening was to find some inspiration for what protections to implement, and being in the cave, he knew exactly what would be sufficient.

His plans within plans brought a smile to his lips, and as he removed his wand to create the very first layer, it only became more prominent.

(Break)

He’d woken in a cold sweat.

It had been many years since that had happened, and Harry knew there was only one man who could elicit such a reaction from him.

Voldemort.

Although the Horcrux within him was destroyed when Tom hit him with the Killing Curse for the second time, its presence within his body for so long had not left him unaffected.

Harry suspected that was where his sensitivity to magic stemmed from.

At first, he thought that it was simply normal and that his own magic was recovering after being exposed to such a dark presence for so long, but it had not changed over the years.

If anything, Harry had learned to hone his new found ability and use it to his advantage.

It proved to be a useful skill, though he had not envisaged he would develop such a proclivity for using magic.

He had his theories as to why he’d become so adept so quickly, but what seemed most likely was that similar to his continued use of parseltongue, Tom’s soul piece had left quite an imprint on his own, gifting him some of the other abilities the man had acquired throughout his life.

Harry wasn’t complaining, however. He’d suffered enough because of Riddle and anything he could take from the man he’d accept as spoils of war.

“Prick,” Harry muttered.

He didn’t remember the dream that had plagued his sleep, only that there seemed to be a lot of fire, and at one point, he felt as though he was drowning, held down by a snatching force.

Before he could mull it over any further, however, the defences around his home notified him of Amelia’s arrival.

“In here, Bones,” he called, pouring the woman a cup of coffee.

She was perhaps the only other person he’d met who drank as much of the stuff as he did.

Harry had never slept well, and that hadn’t changed in recent years.

“Morning, Jameson,” the Auror greeted him as she entered the kitchen.

She was more casually dressed than she had been the previous evening, wearing a jumper and jeans instead of a formal dress.

“Coffee,” Harry announced, sliding a cup towards her.

She nodded appreciatively and took a sip.

“Are you ready to find some creatures?”

“You far too excited about this for my liking,” Bones said amusedly. “I take it you’re an animal lover?”

Harry nodded.

“I find creatures fascinating.”

“The more dangerous, the better?”

“Not necessarily,” Harry said dismissively. “Ready?” he asked as Amelia finished her last sip.”

“Honestly, Jameson, you’re like a child at Christmas. Come on then, before you wet yourself.”

“I’ll have you know I have excellent bladder control,” Harry returned, grinning as he took Amelia by the arm and apparated them away.

She glared at him when they arrived at the enormous gates of their destination.

“What is this place?” Amelia asked.

“A sanctuary,” Harry answered. “The man breeds animals, but it is a sanctuary for creatures who have been displaced, poached, or whose owners aren’t able to look after them any longer.”

“I’m surprised you don’t want a sanctuary for yourself.”

“You never know,” Harry replied with a grin. “Maybe I will when I decide to retire.”

“Mr Jameson?”

“You must be Mr Levitt,” Harry greeted the man peering through an opening in the gate.

Levitt offered him a smile.

“Please, come in,” he invited.

Harry and Amelia did so.

“And who is this beautiful young woman?” Levitt asked curiously.

“This is Amelia Bones,” Harry introduced. “Auror, and perhaps a future stable girl.”

“Is that so?” Amelia asked. “It will be a cold day in hell when you catch me mucking out your stables, Jameson.”

“Isn’t she a delight?” Harry chuckled.

Levitt laughed amusedly.

“She’ll keep you on your toes when you’re married,” he snorted. “Come, I will show you around.”

Amelia frowned at the statement, and she rolled her eyes as Harry took her by the hand, offering her a smirk.

“Well, Mr Jameson, what kind of creatures are you looking for?”

“I was thinking Thestrals,” Harry answered, “but some grazing animals would be useful. I have a large amount of land.”

Levitt hummed.

“Thestrals I have, but they are an established herd of forty. I would need them to go together.”

“Naturally,” Harry answered.

“I also have a herd of Griffins, and again, they are established with a strong leader. He’s not the friendliest of creatures, especially when they have young.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“What else might you have?”

“That depends on what you’re looking for,” Levitt answered. “We have everything from herd animals and large cats to reptiles and even more obscure creatures.”

“Reptiles?”

Levitt nodded.

“We have snakes, magical and mundane, but you must have licences for the former. They are protected and equally dangerous.”

“I have the licences,” Harry assured the man. “What snakes do you have?”

Levitt seemed surprised by his interest.

“Come, I can show you.”

Harry followed, and Amelia squeezed his hands.

“Snakes?” she asked.

“I like snakes.”

“I think your little demonstration with the basilisk showed that, Jameson.”

“Here we are,” Levitt declared, unlocking a door to what appeared to be a barn.

As he opened it, a wave of heat washed over them, along with an earthy, muggy scent.

“This is quite the set-up,” Harry praised.

“All of the creatures under my care want for nothing, Mr Jameson. It isn’t cheap, but the breeding programme helps ensure the creatures have everything they need.”

Harry nodded his understanding.

“Well, I will certainly take the herd of Thestrals and Hippogriffs if you have them.”

Initially, he’d been against the idea of getting either, but his memories of Buckbeak were particularly fond, and without the Thestrals, he’d never have made it to London to hear the prophecy, despite what had followed.

“I have a herd of twelve Hippogriffs,” Levitt informed him. “For both herds, it will be seven hundred galleons.”

Amelia whistled appreciatively, and Harry nodded.

“Done,” he agreed, pausing as he came to a large tank.

Surrounding them was an assortment of snakes, some he didn’t recognise, but many were familiar to him.

The tank he stood before was occupied by a brilliant purple serpent, the magic radiating from her emitting a rather melancholy feel.

“She lost her wings,” Levitt explained morosely. “She was part of a breeding pair, and her mate died. Try as I might, I’ve not been able to cheer her up. They will grow back eventually, but no one wants an occamy that cannot fly.”

Harry shook his head as he placed his hand on the glass.

When he did so, the large snake within perked up somewhat and eyed him curiously.

Cautiously, she slithered towards him and extended her neck so that they were looking into each other’s eyes.

Harry could truly feel the magic radiating from her now.

She was heartbroken, and yet, she looked at him with such hope, and Harry felt just a slither of it fill her as his own magic reached out.

“I’ve never seen her like that with a person,” Levitt murmured.

Harry nodded as the occamy rested her head against the tank where his hand was pressed.

She was trying to get closer to his magic, to revel in the comfort it evidently brought her.

“I’ll take her,” he decided.

Levitt nodded as he removed a potion vial from within his robes.

“I’d best sedate her first,” he explained. “She’s almost bitten me a few times.”

Harry rested a hand on his forearm.

“That won’t be necessary,” he murmured. “May I?”

“I don’t think it is a good idea, Mr Jameson. The venom is quite potent.”

“She won’t bite me,” Harry said confidently.

“Well, if you’re sure, but if you don’t mind, I’ll take a few steps back.”

He tapped the door to the tank with his wand and retreated immediately.

Harry opened it, and without hesitation, the large snake exited and wrapped herself around his shoulders, unleashing a rumble of contentment.

Harry chuckled as he petted her head.

He’d always avoided getting a snake, not wanting to be reminded of Riddle and all he’d been through because of the man, but now, he knew this one was meant for him to care for.

She needed someone who truly understood and who could give her what she needed.

“Trust you to come away with something like that,” Amelia snorted.

Harry shrugged as the occamy rested her head on his shoulder.

“How much do I owe you, Mr Levitt?”

The man stepped forward carefully.

“Just the seven hundred for the Thestrals and Hippogriffs,” he answered. “She belongs with you. I can’t charge for that.”

Harry nodded appreciatively.

“I will have it transferred to your account this afternoon,” he assured the man.

“I will begin readying them for transport,” Levitt assured him. “Please, allow me to show you out.”

Despite the size of the occamy, she was surprisingly light and didn’t hinder his ability to walk much.

It would take considerable work to build trust with her, but Harry knew he’d done the right thing.

She was miserable without another to connect to, and although he wasn’t a snake, there was scarcely anyone else better to care for the now sleeping serpent.

“She really likes you,” Amelia commented. “What is it with you and snakes?”

“We all have our secrets, Bones,” Harry replied with a grin.

She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening.

“You’re a parselmouth,” she whispered in realisation. “Are you…?”

Harry cut her off with a shake of his head.

“No, I’m not related to Slytherin, and I’d rather no one knew about this,” he said firmly. “You knowing is already too many.”

“I won’t say a word to anyone.”

Harry believed her.

“How?” Amelia asked.

“That is a very long story and one I don’t think you’ll ever be ready to hear.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“You have no idea,” Harry sighed as he took her hand and activated the portkey to return them home.