Written in the Stars - The Way of the Vampire

The Way of the Vampire

There was so very few things in life that made Lucinda nervous, but as she and Harry readied themselves to visit her parents and Draikon, she felt the apprehension mingled with her excitement.

Even now, having slept on the conversation they had shared yesterday, Lucinda was still overcome with disbelief.

She had known for as long as she cared to remember that she was in love with Harry, but she had not dared admit it, not even to herself.

There had never been any doubt in her mind that Harry felt affection for her but hearing him express how deep that went for him was something else entirely.

Lucinda had never been a giddy, gossiping teenage girl the same way Eleanor and Ana could be. She had not taken part in conversations where they openly admired the boys around them for their looks or seemed to go through the same changes they had experienced over the years.

For her, there had only ever been one with the ability to elicit those more human characteristics within her.

Harry could be frustrating at times, stubborn to a fault, and he knew just how to get under her skin with his mischievous ways and that damned smile that just made everything feel better, but she truly wouldn’t change a thing about him.

He made her feel all of those things that she would otherwise miss out on in life, and she still found what was happening hard to digest.

“Did you mean it?” she asked.

Of course he had meant every word he’d said to Cassiopeia, but Lucinda needed reassurance, to push away the insecurity she was not familiar with away once and for all.

“Mean what?” Harry asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

Lucinda rolled her eyes before grabbing under the armpits and sitting him on the nearby dresser as though he was a petulant child.

“Are you going to do this to me when we’re married?” Harry sighed.

“Yes,” Lucinda answered without hesitation.

Harry chuckled as he shook his head.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have spoken to your parents if I wasn’t sure, and I wouldn’t be going back to speak with Draikon either. He could make things difficult for us.”

Lucinda frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how many humans do you think have approached him to marry a member of his clan?”

“Not many,” Lucinda murmured.

“If he wants to, he could try to use it to his advantage,” Harry pointed out.

“I don’t think he would,” Lucinda said thoughtfully. “He likes you.”

“When it comes to power or having an advantage, liking someone has little to do with it. But then, I could be wrong. I just have to be prepared for all eventualities, especially where my marriage is concerned. It is a big deal, and there will be a lot of people that do not like it.”

Lucinda was aware of the human attitude towards vampires in Britain.

They were not looked upon fondly.

She had not, however, considered just how much trouble this could potentially cause. The excitement she’d felt had clouded her thoughts, and she bit her bottom lip worriedly.

“Are you sure you want to..?”

Harry cut off with a wave of his hand.

“I am prepared to do what I have to for this,” he said firmly. “Cassie is right. I have lost and given enough to this country, and they don’t have to like my decision, but they will respect and accept it. This is one thing I will offer no compromise on.”

Lucinda offered him a bright smile.

She loved how playful and fun Harry could be, but it was times like this that she was reminded of just who he was.

Harry was a powerful lord of two prominent families, and he knew how to conduct himself as such.

“Come on,” he urged as he slid himself off the dresser. “We don’t want to be late.”

Lucinda nodded as she gathered her bag and straightened out her dress.

It was not often she wore one, but tonight seemed to be an apt occasion to do so.

“Ready?” Harry asked as he offered his hand.

Nodding nervously, Lucinda accepted it and the two of them were transported from Grimmauld Place to a short distance away from the cave that acted as the entrance to where her clan resided.

It felt odd being back here.

She had not expected to be until the war was concluded, but evidently, things did not always go to plan.

Looking towards Harry as they made their way towards the cave, she decided that could indeed be a good thing.

This certainly was.

Or so she hoped.

“I expected you had something to do with it,” Svetlana sighed as she greeted them near the mouth of the cave, her hand wresting on the pommel of her sword.

“With what?” Lucinda asked curiously.

“With why Draikon has been acting so strangely today,” Svetlana answered. “Are you going to explain what’s going on?”

Lucinda grinned as she shook her head.

“I think I will make you wait.”

Svetlana narrowed her eyes at the younger vampire and hummed before turning her attention to Harry.

“Twice in only a day, Harry Potter?” she probed.

Harry nodded.

“I’m not telling you either.”

Svetlana chuckled as she gestured for them to follow, muttering about humans and their secretive nature.

“Well, she didn’t threaten you,” Lucinda pointed out.

“Not yet,” Svetlana interjected.

“Are all of you intent on threatening my life?” Harry huffed.

“You should be grateful they are only threats,” Svetlana returned with a smirk, showing the tips of her pointed fangs. “For now.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry grumbled.

Lucinda took him by the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” she teased.

“I think it might be,” Harry murmured as he nodded towards the waiting Draikon.

Lucinda’s parents flanked the man on either side in the middle of underground city.

They seemed nervous, but Draikon welcomed them both with a smile.

“As ever, you are welcome amongst us, Harry Potter,” he said, his gaze flickering towards Lucinda. “You have grown into quite the beauty.”

Lucinda offered her leader a respectful bow which was returned in kind.

“Come, I believe we have much to discuss.”

Squeezing Harry’s hand encouragingly, the two of them followed in the wake of Draikon and her parents where they were led towards the former’s place of residence.

Lucinda did not know if that was necessarily a good thing, and once more, she felt a sense of nervousness set in with the excitement.

Harry remained as calm as ever, on the surface at least, but even as they were shown into the large house hewn into the rock at the rear of the vampire dwelling, she did not miss him checking that his wand was easily accessible.

(Break)

“Hello, Peter.”

Wormtail backed himself into the corner of his cell as much as he could, his eyes bulging fearfully and his lip trembling as he looked upon his visitor.

Sirius imagined that this might appear to be little more than a nightmare for his former friend, but it was very real.

He’d heard Cassiopeia mention that the rat had been brought to Nurmengard and having consulted a few books on the war against Grindelwald, it had not taken him long to locate where his infamous prison had been built.

There seemed to be little to prevent him from entering; the security measures in place having been designed to keep prisoners in rather than people out proving to serve him well in his own efforts.

Nurmengard seemed to be empty; abandoned but left standing as perhaps a monument to those that had suffered and perished within its walls.

That, however, was no longer true.

Pettigrew was here. Sirius could smell him the moment he entered the stone tower.

“S-Sirius?” Wormtail stammered.

“I bet you thought you were quite safe here, didn’t you?” Sirius returned, the smell of alcohol on his own breath making him feel rather nauseous.

He had been drinking for most of the day and could no longer sit on the information he had.

He’d tried to ignore that the man who had betrayed James and Lily was quietly rotting away here, but he simply couldn’t.

Prison was too good for Wormtail, and Sirius knew he would regret not acting on the impulse to punish the man suitably for all he had done.

Twelve years.

For twelve years of his life, Sirius had been subjected to the horrors of Azkaban, the constant torment of knowing that Pettigrew was out there somewhere, free after what he’d done.

No, that was unacceptable.

He could not allow Peter to get away with it.

Even when he’d been captured, it hadn’t been enough, and though he knew that he was perhaps acting foolishly, it would not stop him.

Peter needed to truly suffer.

Before the rat could open his mouth to speak again, Sirius felled him with a punch.

From that moment, everything else had gone by in a blur as the pain, anger, and hatred was unleashed on Wormtail.

By the time Sirius came to his senses, he was covered in blood, and parts of Peter Pettigrew were strewn around the cell.

He had not even used his wand.

Sirius had beaten Pettigrew to death before transforming and mutilating the man’s remained.

Did he regret what he’d done?

The truth was that he only wished Wormtail had suffered more.

Still, he was dead now, and Sirius hoped that having been the one to administer what the man deserved, he could finally move on without being consumed by the need of vengeance.

It was not to be so.

Only days later, Tonks’ body had been discovered in Diagon Alley and that very same need for vengeance reared its head once more.

Since the Order had reformed and the young metamorph had counted herself amongst their ranks, Sirius had begun reconnecting with her.

He remembered the girl fondly when she had been but a rambunctious child, before he had been sent to Azkaban.

Sirius had been the only member of his family to remain in contact with Andromeda after she had been shunned, and the only blood relative of the Blacks who had been allowed to meet her daughter.

Now, Tonks had fallen like many others before her, murdered by the very same psychopath who had killed James and Lily.

The following funeral had been a deeply unpleasant ordeal to endure.

Not only had Sirius had to watch as Tonks was laid to rest, but also see the utter heartbreak and devastation of Andromeda who had refused to even acknowledge the members of the Order in attendance.

Even Sirius had been snubbed by the mourning woman who undoubtedly blamed them all for what had happened to her only child.

Sirius did not hold that against her.

How could he when nothing had been put in place to keep her safe?

As such, Voldemort had gotten to her with ease.

Sirius threw his full goblet of Firewhiskey into the hearth as he cursed under his breath.

The grief and hatred he’d carried for Pettigrew was gone now, but in its place was a fresh need to see those responsible for what had happened to Nymphadora Tonks brought to justice in the same way.

No, Sirius did not regret what he had already done.

If given the chance, he vowed that he would do the same again when the opportunity arose.

“What was that crash?” Remus asked as he entered the kitchen, releasing a deep breath as he spotted the discarded goblet by the fireplace.

The werewolf took a seat next to his oldest living friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Come on, I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?”

Sirius did not have the energy argue and nodded his agreement.

“Coffee?” Remus offered.

“Thanks.”

As the man busied himself preparing the drink to help sober him up, Sirius took some calming breaths.

His anger would not simply abate, but he had learned long ago that stewing on it would not help him.

“Where’s Harry?” he asked.

“He mentioned something about visiting Lucinda’s parents,” Remus explained. “I think they already left.”

The thought of the two brought a smile to Sirius’s lips.

He was pleased for Harry that he had managed to find a semblance of happiness in the messed-up world they lived in, and he found he quite liked the vampire.

It was hard to say what James and Lily would have thought of her, but Sirius liked to think they would approve.

Lily would have welcomed Lucinda without question. James may have been a little more cautious but having spent enough time around Remus as he had, he wouldn’t have let any preconceived notions he had of vampires cloud his judgement.

Yes, James and Lily would be pleased for Harry.

“Do you think…?”

Remus shrugged.

“I suppose we will have to wait and see,” he replied as he handed Sirius a steaming mug. “Would it surprise you?”

“Not really,” Sirius snorted. “James didn’t wait around. Harry is more like him than he knows.”

“He is,” Remus agreed amusedly, “and a lot like Lily too.”

Sirius nodded as he took a sip of his coffee, his thoughts turned away from the ills that were plaguing him as he chose to think about things that did not fill him with dread and fury.

(Break)

“I must say, I was rather surprised when I learned of your intentions,” Draikon said to Harry when they were seated in a large study. “I knew the two of you had grown fond of one another, but I was unaware of how much. Marrying one of our kind is not the norm, certainly not for a man in your position.”

“It is unorthodox,” Harry acknowledged.

Draikon chuckled as he shook his head.

“It is unheard of,” he murmured as he eyed Harry curiously. “In all the centuries I have overseen the running of my clan, I have only been approached by two other humans in such a way. The first was a woman who had fallen for a vampire that turned her upon my approval. She chose to end her existence after only a year.”

“What of the second?” Harry asked.

“A man, very much unlike yourself who chose not to be turned. He died as all humans do, and he left behind a broken spouse who chose to join him. The prospect of an eternity without him was not something she could face. So, you can understand my reservations.”

Before Harry could formulate a response, Lucinda spoke.

“Should this not be my decision?”

Draikon looked towards her and offered her a smile.

“It is,” he declared, “but as your leader and the one that turned you, it is my responsibility to ensure you understand the ramifications of your decision. I do not wish to see history repeat itself. With that being said, if it is truly what you desire, you will have my full support.”

“It is what I want,” Lucinda replied. “It won’t be like it was for them. I do have one question. What about children? Harry is the head of two families. He will eventually need heirs.”

Harry had pondered that very thing, but seeing that he would live for so long, it did not seem to be an immediate concern.

Lucinda, however, thought differently.

He couldn’t be sure what, if any, maternal instincts vampires had.

“Well, since you both have human magic, I expect you shall face no problems having children,” Draikon replied thoughtfully. “I cannot say for certain if they would be human. Even if it proves difficult for you to conceive when you are ready, there are other ways, rituals you can undergo to ensure you have the heirs you wish.”

Lucinda breathed a sigh of relief.

“Then I don’t need to know anything else.”

“You seem certain,” Draikon mused aloud. “Harry Potter is still a human,” he reminded her.

“I am, but I won’t die after only a century or so of living,” Harry broke in. “Things have happened that will see me live for a thousand years at least. So long as I am not killed by Voldemort,” he added with a frown.

A smirk tugged at Draikon’s lips.

“Your magic is like no other I have come across,” he said thoughtfully. “I recognise the magic of the Peverells, but there is more. There is magic within that is not human. I will not pretend that either are familiar to me…”

He paused, evidently waiting for an explanation.

“I was bitten by a basilisk,” Harry revealed.

There seemed to be no sense in hiding it from the aged vampire.

“Is that so?” Draikon chuckled. “Well, I will not profess to be an expert on the subject, but I do know that you should be dead.”

“Phoenix tears and some assistance from a thunderbird,” Harry explained.

Draikon’s eyebrows rose considerably at the revelation.

“That is quite the occurrence. A thousand years as a human…”

He broke off as he pondered the notion before shaking his head.

“Do they have your approval?” Lucinda’s mother asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Draikon leaned forward in his chair.

“Lucinda is to be your only bride?”

Harry scoffed at the unexpected question, nodding once he had composed himself.

“You have my approval, under one other condition.”

Harry had expected a caveat or two.

“Name it.”

“You will marry under our laws as well as your own in a ceremony of my people.”

“What would that entail?” Harry queried.

“Nothing of further consequence than your own ways,” Draikon assured him. “I would bestow my blessing upon you, the two of you will feed on each other’s blood, and then you shall mark Lucinda as yours.”

“Mark her as mine?”

Draikon nodded.

“It is so that any other vampire that she may meet will know of her status,” he explained. “Bonding so deeply is sacrosanct amongst us. Attempting to interfere or break such a bond is most severely punished. Lucinda is to be yours and yours alone.”

Harry frowned thoughtfully.

To him, it sounded as though he would have some claim to ownership over her, but as he glanced in Lucinda’s direction, there was no denying that was what she seemed to want.

She seemed to be rather excited by the prospect of the vampire ceremony.

Drinking her blood did not present any problems.

He had drunk blood on a few occasions now, so once more would not deter him from complying.

“Does this mean she finally gets to bite me?”

Lucinda muttered under her breath as Draikon laughed heartily, shaking his head as he did so.

“No, you need only provide a sample,” he informed Harry amusedly.

Harry nodded.

“Agreed.”

“Excellent!” Draikon declared as he stood and clapped his pale hands together enthusiastically. “If you will both join me?”

“Now?” Lucinda’s father choked.

“I see no reason to delay it,” Draikon replied. “Do either of you object?”

Both Harry and Lucinda shook their heads, and Draikon offered them a smile before approaching a nearby cabinet and removing a matching pair of gold goblets that were encrusted with various jewels.

“I truly am pleased for you both,” he said as he handed one to each of them. “You will find a silver knife inside, Use it to provide your sample.”

“And there was me thinking I might get to bite you at least,” Harry sighed.

Lucinda’s nostrils flared.

“I’ll kill you, Potter,” she warned as Draikon snorted.

She wasn’t mad, not really.

Lucinda just hadn’t expected the comment.

“The blood,” Draikon reminded them.

Harry nodded before removing the silver knife and inspecting it.

It was designed to cut and heal only, according to the runes etched into blade and handle. As expected, it was nothing more than a ceremonial knife.

With a shrug, he cut into his palm and watched in morbid fascination as his blood pooled into the bottom of the goblet before the wound sealed over of its own accord after barely enough for a sip had been collected.

Lucinda followed suit, her own blood proving to be much darker than Harry’s, almost black with a reddish hue.

“Switch goblets,” Draikon instructed.

“Wait, will my blood not kill her with the venom in it?” Harry asked.

Draikon shook his head.

“We are not effected in the same way as humans are to venom,” he explained. “Are you ready?”

Harry nodded and offered his goblet to Lucinda who passed him hers in return.

“I offer you both my blessing for a long, and happy coupling. I ask that you love and cherish one another, that you remain faithful for the remainder of your days. Through times of strength and weakness, may you turn to each other equally, and to the father of your clan should the need arise.”

The words were something akin to what Harry knew to be a muggle ceremony, only it differed slightly. Nonetheless, the sentiment was much the same.

Clapping his hands together, Draikon began to speak in a tongue that Harry did not recognise, and the tips of his fingers began to glow a brilliant golden colour before he reached out to take the free hands of Harry and Lucinda.

The power of the magic was rather stifling, though not unpleasant.

To the contrary of what Harry usually felt from the vampires, this was warm and welcoming.

When he finished speaking, Draikon offered them a final smile.

“Drink,” he urged.

Harry prepared himself for the expected bitter taste but was pleasantly surprised when the flavour that spread across his tongue proved to be similar to the scent of the woman.

It was musky with the slightest hint of sweetness and perhaps something of an underlying floral note.

Turning towards Lucinda, he could not miss that her red eyes were almost glowing from the sheer enjoyment she was experiencing from tasting his blood.

As far as Harry knew, this was the first time she’d ever consumed her food so fresh, and he finally understood why there were some older vampires that longed for the old ways of hunting for their own sustenance.

Still, if they were allowed to do so, it would create quite the problem across the world, and they would once more be seen as an imminent threat.

“Now you must mark her as your own,” Draikon reminded Harry.

“Where?”

“Wherever you wish for it to be. Traditionally…”

Draikon broke off as he nodded towards Lucinda.

Harry frowned as he turned to her once more to find that she had already exposed her neck and was pointing to where the mark was usually placed.

“It is where most of us have it,” her mother assured him, showing her own mark.

Mrs Tarasov’s was in the shape of a crescent moon, and though it was visible, it was only a shade or two darker than her natural skin tone.

Not wanting to offend any of the vampires when they had been so welcoming to him and the idea of marriage, Harry removed his wand and placed the tip where Lucinda indicated.

She only winced slightly as her skin began to burn, and when his mark had been left, Harry removed his wand immediately.

“Of course it would be that,” he snorted.

The mark resembled a lightning bolt, identical to the one on his sternum.

“And that concludes the ceremony,” Draikon announced. “It may mean nothing to humans, but in the eyes of our kind, you are bonded as one in blood and magic. You both have my congratulations. Now, I think it would be a good moment to announce our latest union to the rest of the clan, don’t you?”

He led them from the room, and Harry felt an arm thread through his own.

“It seems as though we are family now,” Lucinda’s mother commented.

“It does,” Harry acknowledged. “I suppose I should curb my inappropriate remarks towards you.”

“I think that has always been for the best. My daughter certainly will not take kindly to it now. Not that she ever has.”

Harry chuckled.

The visit had become more than he had anticipated, but he had no regrets.

He’d made his decision long ago, and if an additional, immediate ceremony was all it had taken to be given Draikon’s approval, it was a small price to pay, though he would need to explain to Cassiopeia that he was already married.

The woman would still insist on a magical ceremony, of that, Harry had no doubt.

(Break)

“How are you feeling?” Eleanor asked.

“All the better for seeing you,” Cain returned with a grin.

Eleanor tutted as she pushed his hand away.

The full moon had come, and she had insisted on spending the evening in the basement with Cain and Remus, both of course having been given a dose of wolfsbain.

“What about me?” the older werewolf demanded. “I had a rough night too.”

Eleanor shook her head amusedly.

“Oi, get your own woman,” Cain fired back.

“No, I’ve seen how much grief this one gives you,” Remus yawned. “You are welcome to her.”

“That’s enough out of you two,” Eleanor huffed. “Honestly, it is like living in a house full of children. Come on,,” she continued, unlocking the cages they had slept in. “You could both do with a good breakfast.”

“Is Harry back yet?” Cain asked.

“I think I heard them a few minutes ago.”

At her response, Cain all but sprinted from the basement and Eleanor could only shake her head.

“Well, it’s not hard to tell who he would choose between us if he had to,” she murmured.

“He’s just excitable,” Remus comforted. “That little wolf thinks the world of you. Come on, you can make me a strong coffee.”

“Make your own pissing coffee,” Eleanor returned evenly as she made her way up the stairs.

“Charming,” Remus chuckled as he followed, pausing as he reached the kitchen. “Did someone die?” he asked taking in the shocked silence.

“You could say that,” Sirius huffed. “He only went and got bloody married,” he explained, pointing towards Harry. “I was looking forward to taking him out with us. Not even a stag night,” he finished disappointedly.

Remus was the first to shake himself of the shock.

“Congratulations to you both,” he offered sincerely. “And you should think yourself lucky. If you thought it was bad having Lily after your hide for James spending the night in the cells, imagine what an angry vampire would do.”

Sirius grimaced as Lucinda waved at him.

“You got married?” Cain asked. “I thought I’d get to be your best man. I haven’t been hanging around with you for this long to get nothing,” he added dramatically.

“It was a vampire ceremony,” Harry explained. “We will still have to have a wizarding one.”

“So, there’s still a chance for a stag night,” Sirius said excitedly. “Now I can be happy for you both. Bloody hell, we need to celebrate.”

The others nodded their agreement but it was Harry that shook his head.

“We will, but there is something else I need to do first,” he explained as he removed a wooden Dark Mark from within his robes. “This came for me yesterday, and I don’t want to wait before I put it to use.”

“Malfoy Manor?” Cain asked.

Harry nodded darkly.

“Tonight,” he declared. “I will be going there tonight.”

The mood within the room shifted immediately.

None of them liked the idea of Harry going it alone, but he had insisted to the point that he had threatened to lock them all in the house.

Still, no matter how many times he assured them he would be fine, it didn’t sit right with any of them.

(Break)

It had been another long day beside Draco’s bed, nursing and comforting him when whatever was plaguing him caused him pain. Narcissa, Severus, nor any other who had checked her son over had any answers, and she could only hope that Potter did indeed remain true to his word.

The portkey he’d requested had been sent two days prior, and yet, she had not felt a disturbance in the protections around the home to indicate he’d made use of it.

It was nerve-wracking, to say the least, simply waiting for the young man to act.

He would, of that, Narcissa had no doubt.

“It’s okay, Draco,” she soothed as he groaned in his sleep.

He rarely woke now, and when he did, he had to be administered a Dreamless Sleep potion.

His condition was much worse when he was conscious, though it was difficult to look upon him.

Draco was severely malnourished now, skeletally thin and his already pale skin having become pasty over the intervening weeks. His once luscious blond hair was lank, dry, and weak.

As a mother, Narcissa knew he had done wrong, but he was still her son and she would give anything to see him well again.

She had given everything she could.

Even when Potter chose to act, her life could be forfeit if it was discovered whom had given him the way into the manor.

Narcissa hoped that she would be far from here when those questions were asked. Not that it would prevent the Dark Lord hunting her down.

Releasing a deep breath, she gasped as a strong hand was pressed over her mouth, and her chest heaved from the shock.

“You have around ten minutes to get you and him out,” the voice of Potter whispered. “I would not hang around if I were you.”

Even when he released her, Narcissa did not relax.

“You promised you would heal him!” she hissed.

“I did say I would undo the curse,” Potter conceded, his hand materialising seemingly from thin air before he touched Draco with the tip of his wand.

Draco immediately sat up, his eyes bulging with fear and confusion as he tried to take in his surroundings.

“Calm,” Narcissa urged. “We have to get out of here, Draco,” she explained, pulling him to his feet.

Fortunately, everything they would need was already prepared and had been packed into a trunk she now carried with her at all times.

All that she needed to do now, was get them out of the house.

It would not be easy, not when Draco was so weak and still delirious from the weeks of being cursed, but as a mother, there would be nothing to stop her getting her and her son free.

(Break)

Usually, Harry would not show so much faith in someone he deemed to be an enemy, but he could not question Narcissa Malfoy’s motivation to see that she and Draco would survive what was coming.

Still, he would not relax until he had achieved what he’d set out to do and he was clear of Malfoy Manor.

As anticipated, he had arrived without being detected.

Despite being within the confines of his cloak, he waited for several moments before transporting himself to the other side of the door and into a long corridor filled with various doors.

Much to his relief, there was no need for him to enter any of these rooms.

He merely needed to ensure that none could escape them.

Harry had waited until the early hours of the morning when he was less likely to be disturbed as he carried out his task, and much to his relief everything was going to plan, though he could not ensure it would remain that way.

Having spent longer than he wished doing so, he’d managed to secure the rooms on the lower floor with some rather ingenious spell work courtesy of the Blacks, and he’d even thrown a few of Voldemort’s own into the mix.

The Death Eaters within the rooms would be going nowhere.

Any spell they attempted to use would be repelled back at them, and besides, before they realised what was happening around them, it would be too late.

He smirked at the thought as he felt Narcissa’s presence becoming fainter with each passing moment.

She had seemingly taken his warning and was likely dragging Draco from the manor.

That thought only made Harry’s grin widen, but he chose to focus on the task at hand rather than the smaller, though no less satisfying victory.

All was not what Narcissa would be expecting.

It was when Harry neared the end of the final hallway he needed to secure, when his plan seemed to go out of the window.

Peering out of one of the doors curiously was Augustus Rookwood who seemed to have a sixth sense for detecting danger.

The tip of his wand was lit and his eyes narrowed as he stared down the corridor curiously before he cursed under his breath and slammed his door shut.

How the man knew something was amiss was anyone’s guess, but Harry expected that he had quite the sensitivity to magic.

It certainly would have served him well during his years as an Unspeakable.

Nonetheless, much of the work was already complete, and not even the likes of Rookwood could change it now.

The die had been cast, and in only a matter of moments, the tide of the war would change in a single blow.

Harry’s only regret was that there wasn’t any sign of Voldemort, but then again, if the man had been here, the plan would not be going so swimmingly.

Harry paused suddenly as Rookwood’s door opened again.

The man was so close to him that Harry could reach out and brush the tips of his fingers against him if he so wished.

Instead, he held his breath, his grip tightening around his wand just in case he needed to act.

“Who’s there?” Rookwood called.

Much to Harry’s surprise, a house-elf appeared in front of the man.

“It is just Dobby, Mr Rookwood, sir.”

Rookwood lowered his wand.

“Blasted elf,” he muttered. “Keep the bloody noise down!”

With that, he slammed the door once again and the elf turned to look at Harry, grinning before disappearing with a click of his fingers.

How the little creature knew he was there, Harry didn’t know, but he was grateful that his cover had not been blown.

Evidently, even Dobby did not want the Death Eaters here any longer.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry bypassed the room Rookwood was staying in and made his way back to the lower level of the house. Checking that all was in place, he cast a final spell before opening the front door of Malfoy Manor, grimacing as it creaked, and carefully closed it behind him.

“Potter?”

Harry cursed under his breath as Narcissa Malfoy approached.

“You promised me you would heal him!”

Harry removed the cloak from his head, his grin once more in place.

“I promised I would remove the curse,” he corrected. “I cannot heal the damage already done.”

“You lied to me!” Narcissa hissed furiously.

“No, you assumed I would do as you wish,” he returned. “There is not a thing on this planet that can heal him, and he deserves every miserable moment he will live. I can’t imagine he will be pleased being a squib.”

“A squib?” Narcissa choked.

Harry nodded.

“He’s a murdering little shit. Did you think I would just let him get away with it?”

“And what does that make you?” Narcissa replied with a humourless chuckle.

“Oh, I am much worse than you can imagine,” Harry retorted. “If I were you, I would not push your luck. Do not think for a second that I am beyond killing you and leaving Draco without anyone to care for him. If I were you, I would take the mercy you and your son have been granted and be grateful for it. There will be nothing but death for you here in less than a minute.”

Narcissa was taken aback by his words and she retreated a few steps.

“You are just as bad as him,” she accused.

“How do you think I have managed to survive?” Harry snorted. “I killed your husband and many others along the way. I’m about to kill dozens of others that are in there,” he reminded her, jerking his thumb in the direction of the manor, “and I will likely have to kill several more before Tom comes out and faces me. I can live with that. The question is, will you ever be able to look your son in the eye knowing what he has done, knowing that every day he lives he will wish he was dead, or that it was Lucius here instead of him. I pity you, Narcissa. I cannot fault you for wanting to be a good mother, but you brought this on yourself. How else did you expect Draco to turn out with such a disgusting piece of shit for a father?”

Harry laughed as Narcissa slapped him across the face.

“I’m going to give you three seconds to be out of my sight,” he warned, knowing that time truly was of the essence. “Take your son and leave, but I promise, if I get even a whiff of him back in Britain, I will hunt him down and feed him to the dementors.”

Narcissa shot him a final look of disgust before fleeing, and Harry quickly put some distance between himself and the manor.

“This one is for you, Gellert,” as he checked his watch.

Only a moment later, the ground trembled as the enormous house was engulfed in an eerily blue flame, and the screams, although momentary, filled the air of the grounds that had belonged to what remained of the Malfoy line.

Harry’s eyes never left the inferno, and he felt no guilt for what he had done.

Everyone within the walls had deserved much worse than the quick mercy they had been given, but being at war, Harry’s focus was putting it all to an end.

For that, he needed Voldemort, and this would certainly get the Dark Lord’s attention, bringing their fated meeting just a little closer.

(Break)

He stared at the smouldering remains of what had been one of the most impressive homes in all of Britain, his nostrils flaring in fury as he contemplated just how this had come to pass.

None could have entered Malfoy Manor without assistance, and there was only one person in such a position.

Draco had long ago been rendered all but useless, bedbound and barely coherent. That left only his mother.

“My Lord, you can’t think…”

Voldemort held up a hand to silence Bellatrix.

“Narcissa chose to betray me,” he murmured. “She knew what fate awaited her if she failed to find it. She must have sought Potter out.”

The flames.

He had seen them only once before, and it had been when his foe unleashed them upon his Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries.

“Narcissa…”

“Is a traitor,” Voldemort said firmly.

The woman was too savvy to have been within the home when Potter came. She would have someone secured the safety of her and her pathetic spawn.

“Find her, Bella,” he commanded before turning away.

“What shall I do, my lord?”

Voldemort turned his attention to the woman.

He should have known that the younger of the Black sisters could not be trusted, but for Bellatrix’s sake, he had given her the benefit of the doubt.

That mistake would not be made again.

“Kill her and her son,” he instructed. “I want their heads at my feet.”

Bellatrix merely nodded before vanishing, and the Dark Lord gave Malfoy Manor a final look.

Many of his followers had perished this night, and though he still held the numbers advantage with those not residing here, he could not deny that it was quite the blow.