Soul Seeker

There is a new poll up at my Live Journal (k155_me) that I would appreciate you voting on.

I am a bad person. When I get close to completing a fiction, I find I can’t work on any of my other ones. I can only start new ones, or complete this one – it’d be best if I completed this one first, right?

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Words: 5,197
Chapter 12
(Should Have) Seen It Coming
July 4th 1998.

The eyed the building with distaste. A sneer formed on his lips as he thought about the people who lived within the manor before him. The building itself was beautiful, it actually reminded Tom a little of Malfoy Manor, but less magical so he knew it couldn’t really compare. Abraxas would probably be highly offended to have his ancestral home compared to that of a Muggle. Tom narrowed his eyes in thought. He had planned it all out in his head, calculating the possible risks and outcomes and weighing them against the benefits.

It had started with a book. He had been reading, which was nothing unusual because Tom Riddle was usually found in the company of books, or fawning Slytherins. Though he preferred the books. It had been a relatively small passage; just two lines in total, and the one word in particular had jumped out at him.

‘Horcrux’.

Professor Slughorn had been most helpful in providing the information Tom needed to carry out his plan. He would make a Horcrux: he would make several, and he would start tonight.

He had always been afraid of death. It was not so much the pain of dying he feared, but that in death he would cease to exist. He would be forgotten and unimportant, no longer special as he had always viewed himself to be. It was a humbling thought, and Lord Voldemort so hated to be humble.

He approached the gate, slowly walking down the gravel driveway, his wand in one hand and a small black diary in the other. He had begun writing the diary at the start of his sixth year, the school year just finished. He planned to use it for something, at the time he knew not what, but it was an instinctual thought, a presence pushing on his mind to be prepared for any opportunity that may arise. So he had written in the diary, and into it he poured his malice, his cruelty and his desire to dominate all life.1 He had been shocked how simply it was, snuffing out a life. When that Mudblood Myrtle died, though he had not been the one to strike the final killing blow, he had expected to feel something more.

As a child, he had happily tortured and killed many animals, though none of them snakes, and he had felt nothing but pleasure. But were humans not more important than animals in the long run? Should he not have felt something at the death of a fellow human? Perhaps, he thought, it was because she was a Mudblood. She was barely human herself.

It was that thought that led him to his currant plan. If a Mudblood did not deserve to live, then neither did a Muggle. Especially not his filthy Muggle father who had abandoned his mother and himself, his father who had left him at that wretched orphanage. Tom smirked. Tonight, Tom Riddle Sr. would finally pay for all of his misdeeds. Lord Voldemort was not one to be forsaken.

He raised his hand, and knocked upon the door.

His father was the one to answer. He flinched back as if struck, shocked by the sight of a sixteen-year-old who looked just like him. “Who are you?” He gasped.

With a malicious smile, Tom answered him. “Your son. Can I come in?”

He looked around at them all, a frown on his face. It had been too easy. Each of them had died by the Killing Curse, which Tom had found he was rather good at casting. It was strange, in a way, that at one moment each of the Muggles had been alive, and now they were not. But their essence lived on. Tom had drawn it away from their corpses, before they could pass on, and he had forced it into the diary, giving his Horcrux power. Then, he had completed the ritual, tearing away a piece of his soul and casting it into the diary as well.

The small, unassuming, book lay upon the floor at his feet. It almost seemed to vibrate with power, humming lightly, its magic swirling around trying to reach out and touch its original host. Lord Voldemort threw his head back and laughed. It had been successful.

Now, all he had to do was blame his uncle for the Muggles’ deaths.

Harry watched everything silently, not moving once to intervene but nor did he turn away. Eyes narrowed, his mouth set into a frown, he watched the Dark Lord kill people using Harry’s own body. Harry’s tongue forming the words ‘Avada Kedavra’, Harry’s voice calling it out loud as Harry’s wand shot forth the poisonous green light. Tom did not seem to realize that it was Harry’s body he was using, and Harry was not inclined to tell him.

Footsteps sounded, and Harry turned towards them, his crimson eyes landing on someone very familiar to him. “Ginny?” He asked softly, his voice lisping, sibilant.

“Riddle?” She called softly to him. “Is that you?”

“I am Lord Voldemort,” Harry said, waving his wand so that the words formed in the air. Ginny paled, her hair damp and limp and she looked eleven-years-old. She looked as she did when Harry found her in the Chamber of Secrets.

“I want to help you, Riddle.” She whispered, reaching out towards him.

“Traitor,” Harry hissed.

“Follower,” Tom breathed. Ginny just smiled at them both.

XXX

July 5th 1998.

Harry gasped, his eyes snapping open. He looked around frantically, searching the corridor for familiar faces. The Weasleys sat around, like they had done since the end of June, some of them sleeping and others still crying softly. Draco sat back in his chair, Harry’s head had been resting on his shoulder, but despite the fact that Harry jumped awake Draco remained asleep. His mother sat by his side, with Teddy in her lap; both of them were awake and silent. She had arrived the night before, claiming that Teddy missed Harry, and that she wanted to offer her support for the Weasley family.

He didn’t see Ginny anywhere. But then that was hardly surprising. Ron had nervously told him that she had been portkeyed out of the hospital by the wards for trying to get into George’s room uninvited. It was possible that she was just really annoyed with Harry, Draco and George and was off sulking at Hogwarts. Or maybe she had even gone back to the Burrow alone. No one had really thought to check.

“Arthur,” Harry said softly.

Mr. Weasley turned his head away from glaring at Lucius, who was feigning sleep, and smiled warmly at Harry. “Yes, my boy?”

“I was wondering if you’d check at the Burrow? I have a bad feeling about Ginny.”

Arthur’s face paled drastically, and he stood up from his chair. “Molly,” he whispered, waking his sleeping wife.

“Is it time to go?” She asked immediately.

“No, no, I just have to pop out for a bit. I’ll be back soon, ok?” She nodded her head slowly, her eyes already closing.

Harry watched her with a frown. She had refused to go home at any point in George’s stay at St Mungos, even when Arthur and some of the others had, and she was exhausted. Harry sighed. The war was over, for everyone other than him, and yet his family was still suffering the war’s effects. They probably would be for some time.

“I’m sure she is fine, Harry.” Narcissa said softly, a kind smile on her face. She held Teddy out to Harry, and the teenager took him gratefully. “He’s missed you.”

“I’m sorry you keep having to mind him all the time. I mean, he’s my responsibility and I’m hardly ever with him.”

“Nonsense,” Narcissa said at once, “he’s family. Just like you are. Family takes care of each other, child.”

Draco stirred against him, yawning, his eyes still closed. “Morning,” he mumbled, turning to bury his face against Harry’s neck.

A Healer came around the corner of the hallway, smiling at the group. “Hello everyone,” he said cheerily. He then realized that most of the people were still asleep, and with a sheepish look on his face he apologized. “Sorry, sorry, very sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Molly said, giving a stretch as she sat up straighter. “Can we take him home now?”

“George doesn’t want to go to the Burrow, Mrs Weasley.” Harry said quietly. For the past few days, George only seemed to want to talk to Harry. But, to Draco’s relief, he seemed to have gotten over his crush-slash-obsession. “He wants to go back to Hogwarts, but he didn’t say anything cause he didn’t think you’d let him.”

Molly’s mouth opened and closed for a moment and she frowned. “Well he is an adult. You’ll mind him won’t you, Harry?” The brunette gave a curt nod, his eyes flicking to Ron and Hermione who both nodded to him. “Then, Healer, can he go to Hogwarts now?”

“Yes, I believe he can.”

XXX

July 5th 1998. Later that morning.

Ginny trembled harshly in the early morning chill. She was only wearing her underwear and her outer robe. The rest of her clothes had been destroyed when she was turned. The full moon was generally the only time when werewolves can turn others, but Fenrir Greyback was just an ordinary werewolf. He was a Pureblooded wolf, born from two werewolf parents, rather than turned. Those types of wolves were very rare, and practically forgotten about by wizard kind. It was because of this fact that Ginny now found herself to be a werewolf as well.

Ignoring the way Greyback had behaved towards her when she had been captured first, he didn’t touch her again until he had bitten her. The rest of his pack had attacked her, testing her Greyback called it, trying to determine her position in their hierarchy. But she didn’t want to be a part of their pack. She only wanted Harry, and Fenrir knew that.

With a smirk, the wolf Alpha watched as the redheaded girl walked away from them. When she was far enough away from the rest of the pack, Fenrir smirked as she apparated.

She would succeed. She had better. And then Fenrir would get his cub back.

Ginny apparated into Hogsmeade. She looked around warily, eyeing the small handful of people who were out and about at that time. Keeping her head down, her eyes on the floor, she all but ran towards Hogwarts. She didn’t know what she’d tell them when she arrived, but she was sure she would think of something. They would accept her back either way she was sure, after all she was family. If they could accept Remus Lupin who wasn’t even related to them, she’d definitely be allowed to stay at Hogwarts.

She walked into the infirmary, a small smile on her face as she heard a familiar voice. “Harry!” She shouted, running at the stunned young man and throwing herself into his arms.

The others who had been at St. Mungos watched the redhead with worry, or curiosity, or in Draco’s case annoyance. George was lying on one of the beds, Teddy sitting on his stomach and Draco by his side. The elder Malfoys stood off to one corner, Hermione standing beside them while the rest of the Weasleys ran towards Ginny and Harry.

“What happened to you!?” Molly cried, pulling her daughter away from Harry and into her own embrace. “Oh my dear!”

Arthur, who had arrived shortly before Ginny, scowled at his daughter. “Where have you been? I looked all around Ottery St Catchpole for you!”

She let out a sniffle, rubbing her face on her sleeve. But she didn’t speak.

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes, taking a step towards the girl. There was a bite on her neck, visible about the neckline of the robe she wore, and it seemed very familiar to the Medi-Witch. With a gasp, she realized it was very like the bite Lavender Brown received in the final battle, and the scar Remus used to have on his thigh. “You’ve been bitten by a werewolf,” the woman said slowly, her hand moving to clutch at her chest.

Molly and the rest of the family drew back with identical gasps. “But it doesn’t matter,” Ginny cried, “I’m still me!”

“You can’t stay here.” Professor McGonagall walked into the room. The portraits had alerted her to a new arrival, and a suspicious looking one at that. Ginny did look rather suspicious, half dressed and with her hair messed, and covered in cuts and bruises. “Werewolves are no longer allowed within school property. Hogwarts is a sanctuary at present. All werewolves are to be sent to the Ministry for questioning, and then either sent to Azkaban or relocated.”

“Oh Minerva!” Molly cried, “can’t she stay? She won’t hurt anyone, will you dear?”

“Of course not!” Ginny gasped, but her eyes flicked to Draco and narrowed. The blood sneered back. He may have been terrified of Greyback, but it wasn’t because he was afraid of being turned. A Veela, or any other type of creature, could not be turned into another one. Greyback had just scared him, because as a submissive Draco had felt compelled to follow the Alpha’s orders and whims. Without his own dominant around to protect him, Draco had been twice as vulnerable to Fenrir’s vicious nature.

“Regardless Molly, we have no one to brew the Potion anymore.” She did seem genuinely upset at having to refuse Ginny, but there was nothing she could do.

Draco watched the Weasleys all look at one another sadly. Molly was crying again, as was Fleur and Hermione. Ron looked angry, but Draco thought amusedly, that was nothing new. Harry, however, looked tortured. Harry was angry with her, no doubt, but he had never wanted something like this to happen. Harry wanted to help her, and he would have offered to brew the Potion for her, but it would probably kill her rather than do her any help.

“I’ll do it.” Draco said, his eyes never leaving his mate’s face. “I’ll brew her the Wolfsbane Potion.” The smile Harry gave him made it easy to ignore everyone else’s stares and shocked exclamations. Harry smiling made it worthwhile, even though he’d like nothing more than to help throw the Weaselette out on her arse.

XXX

What was left of the Order gathered around Kingsley, they huddled around the current Minister, whispering softly to one another, waiting.

“Ready?”

“Be careful.”

“I’m always careful. You be careful.”

“Stuff it, Dodge.”

They bantered back and forth. Kingsley rolled his eyes, watching them argue with a fond smile on his face. Arthur and Lucius had joined them, but both men stayed silent, walking side by side with their wands drawn, (Lucius of course had to use his second, illegal wand, but Kingsley let it pass without comment).

“This is it,” someone said with a grin.

“We got the bastards!”

“Reducto!” Kingsley shouted, the light shooting out of his wand and blasting the door out of the way. The Aurors and Wizards entered the building, a curse leaving each of their lips as they noticed the cloaked figures waiting by the walls.

“That was too easy.” Lucius muttered, moving to unmask one of the unconscious werewolves. The blond gasped, looking at the face of the man he held. The man’s mouth was bound by duct tape, his eyes were gouged out so he couldn’t see to run away, and when Lucius undid the man’s robes he found several large bite marks across the man’s stomach and legs.

“Muggles,” Arthur moaned. “They aren’t werewolves at all.”

Some had already been dead, held up by rope, tied around their necks and waists, unseen by the Order members. Others had been spelled in place, still barely alive and unable to defend themselves.

“The clever fucker!” Kingsley cursed harshly. The black Auror wasn’t one to swear, but in times like these, polite exclamations didn’t make anyone feel any better.

“What’s that noise?” Arthur asked, cocking his head to listen to the soft ‘tick, tock, tick’ noise.

“It’s coming from that,” someone whispered, pointing at a small black box. Arthur looked at the box, the red and black and silver wires coming out of it, and then the small digital clock that was counting down from ‘seven, six, five…’

“Get out of here!” He shouted. He didn’t remember its name, but he knew what it did. “Get out now!” Arthur screamed again, already running for the door. Some of them just apparated outside, others ran after their friend. Everyone made it outside before the bomb exploded.

The ground shook with the force of the explosion. Part of the house flew over their heads, missing them as they were protected by several strong Protego spells. The house on either side of the one that exploded caught fire, the flames rising higher and higher in a matter of seconds. Muggles came running out of both houses, screaming and shouting. With a wave of his wand, Kingsley turned his companions and himself invisible to the Muggles, this Disillusion charm holding until the Unspeakables arrived to fix the mess Greyback had caused.

He turned to glare at Dung Fletcher. “The next time you get a hot tip from one of your contacts,” he hissed, and everyone else turned to glare at the Wizard being chastised, “keep it to yourself.”

XXX

July 7th 1998.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Narcissa asked. Her and Lucius were heading into Diagon Alley, along with an Auror escort just to be on the safe side. Harry shook his head at her, smiling.

“Nah, I’m going to finally listen to Lucius and study something.” The blond man chuckled lightly, and took his wife’s arm. “See you later!” Harry called as Lucius led Narcissa from the room.

“Are they gone?” Draco asked, walking out of their bedroom with Teddy in his arms.

“Yeah.” Draco raised an eyebrow, smirking. The brunette just shook his head, “don’t even think about it.”

“Come on, you prude.” He walked back into the bedroom, and lay Teddy down on the bed. “You have a nice nap, ok Teddy Bear. Give us a shout when you wake up.” The boy rolled over, yawning, and was asleep in seconds. Draco walked back out of the room, and sat next to Harry on the couch.

“What are the ingredients needed in the Polyjuice Potion?” Harry asked the second Draco was seated.

“Well, you’re taking this seriously, aren’t you?” The blond laughed before answering the question correctly. “In which Potion is Monkswood most usually included?”

They went on for an hour and a half. Harry had opened his mouth to answer his latest question when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” the brunette said, standing up. He walked to the door, and pulled it open. “Hello,” his eyes widened and he took a small step back.

He hadn’t seen Ginny since she came back to Hogwarts, not until now. It was the first time she had sought him out in anyway, and Harry was surprised that she had come straight to the Malfoys room. She had been healed, Harry noticed, and now that she was actually wearing decent clothing she didn’t look half as bad as she did the last time he had seen her. Though, she was flushed and panting, her eyes wide and worried.

“What’s the matter?” He asked, reaching out to her.

“You have to come,” she said as she grabbed his arm. “Come quickly. George!” She panted, trying to drag Harry from the room. “George tried to kill himself again!” Harry moved forward quickly, reaching out to grab her shoulders. “We don’t know what to do.” Harry didn’t hear that though because he had already taken off running.

Draco listened to the voices, but he didn’t really hear what they were saying. When Harry didn’t come back inside, he stood up and made his way to the door. Ginny stood there alone, crying. “What happened, Weaselette?” He asked harshly, narrowing his eyes.

“George tried to kill himself again,” she sobbed, her arms wrapped around herself. “Harry said it was his fault. I tried to tell him it wasn’t but he wouldn’t listen. He ran off, and I’m so afraid he might to something stupid.”

Draco looked away from her, staring down the corridor. He needed to go to Harry; he knew as well as anyone that Harry would be blaming himself. His worry for his mate overrode the Veela’s natural instinct to protect the child in the room. He pulled the portrait shut and ran, ignoring Ginny calling after him.

If he had looked back, he would have seen the smirk on the red heads face. She had her wand in the threshold of the portrait, stopping it from closing completely. She pushed it wide open and walked inside. “Teddy?” She called softly. “It’s aunty Ginny. Come here baby?”

She searched through the rooms, hurriedly, having no doubt that Draco would come back before Harry. Harry would be back too of course, and he would be very angry with her when he realized she had lied about George. But really, she reasoned, it was for his own good. She was doing this for Harry, for them.

She walked into Draco’s bedroom, sneering as she looked at the one bed. The bed Malfoy shared with her Harry. Teddy lay on it, eyes wide and green as he stared at her. “Come here, love?” She held her arms out to him but he didn’t move. She moved to pick him up, but a stinging hex caught her arm and she cried out, moving away from the bed.

Draco had gotten to the end of the hallway before he remembered Teddy. He wasn’t even sure if he closed the portrait behind himself. Teddy was more important than Harry at that moment, because Teddy couldn’t defend himself. He should have brought the child with him. He didn’t think Ginny would hurt the baby, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. There was something about the Weasley girl that he didn’t trust. He didn’t trust her around Harry, for definite, and he wouldn’t trust her with Teddy either.

When he got back to the rooms the portrait was wide open, and so was the door to his parent’s bedroom. He frowned, silently walking inside. He held his wand out in front of himself, almost growling as he saw Ginny moving towards Teddy. Teddy met his eyes over her shoulder, wide and afraid, and Draco’s heart clenched for him. He cast a stinging hex and Ginny shrieked, leaping towards the wall.

Teddy stood, and crawled to the end of the bed. Draco grabbed him, holding him with one arm. His other arm held the wand on Ginny as he backed out of the room. He was almost to the portrait when Ginny screamed at him. “I hate you! He should have been mine!” She flourished her wand at him, casting, “Sectumsempra!”

Draco’s mind froze. He couldn’t think of anything to cast in reply. It was too much like the time Harry cursed him in the girl’s toilets. He couldn’t breath. Running on instinct, he turned his body away, trying to protect Teddy.

“PROTEGO!” Lucius roared. The light shot past Draco, hovering in front of him and forming a shield that reflected Ginny’s spell. She ducked out of its way but wasn’t quick enough to dodge Lucius’ stunner. “Draco, are you ok?” He reached out for his son, but the boy flinched away, clinging tighter to Teddy.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s us! It’s ok!” Narcissa cooed, pulling her only child against her chest.

Draco looked up, hearing footsteps, in time to see Harry burst into the room. “The bitch lied to me!” He hissed. His eyes widened as he looked around. “What just happened?”

XXX

July 8th 1998.

They were sitting in the Headmistresses office, waiting. Ginny was bound to one of the chairs, and Harry and the Malfoys either sat or paced, unrestrained. Molly stood beside her daughter, sobbing again.

“It’s a good thing Lucius and Narcissa came back early.” Minerva said. “Or you would be on your way to Azkaban.” Molly cried harder.

Apparently the Auror who was escorting the elder Malfoys to Diagon Alley was summoned for a meeting he had forgotten about, and the Malfoys didn’t feel up to shopping on their own, especially considering the dirty looks and glares they were receiving with the Auror present.

“I wish to know why you did what you did?”

“He said I could have Harry.” Ginny whispered, her eyes flicking to stare at the boy in question. Draco tightened his grip on Harry’s hand, snarling at her. Teddy was outside with Ron and Hermione. George, Neville and Luna waited outside with them as well.

“Who said, child?” The Headmistress asked with a frown.

“Greyback. He said if I brought Teddy to him, then I could have Harry. He promised he’d help me get Harry.”

“Why does he want Teddy?”

“Teddy is his cub, apparently. He said just because Remus wouldn’t stay with him didn’t mean he was letting humans raise his cub.” She paused, “it was why he killed Mrs Tonks.”

“Why do you want Harry?” Narcissa asked, “He is Draco’s mate.”

“He’s MINE! He was mine first. I had him first and I love him more than Malfoy does. Harry and I never fought like they did. We never hated each other. And Harry loves me too. He should be with me.”

“My dear child, I’m afraid I have no choice but to expel you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Molly, if you could please bring her back to your home.” The red headed woman pulled her daughter up from the chair, Ginny still magically restrained, and led her to the door. “I will leave it to you to decide whether or not to contact the Aurors about her condition.”

They left. As the door opened, the others walked inside uninvited. George held up a ear, on a piece of string and grinned at Harry. Hermione scowled at him, “I told him not to eavesdrop,” she said, “but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You should have seen that coming, mate.” George gave Harry a nudge. The brunette just looked at him in confusion. “Oh come on, Ginny has been obsessed with you for years! If there were a chance she could have gotten you for herself she’d jump on it. Even if she had to hurt someone else in the process.”

Harry reached out for his godson, hugging the boy tightly as Luna draped an arm around his shoulders. She looked left and right and smiled, “the Wrakspurts are no longer around, Harry. In a weeks time, the Hagglebalums will be defeated, and he’ll be safe.”

“Thanks, Luna.” Harry smiled warmly at her.

Ron looked around at everyone present, but they all shrugged at him. Hermione scowled, “oh don’t look at me. I haven’t a clue what she’s talking about!”

“Mental, that one.” He nodded at Hermione’s back, who had stormed from the room in a huff. Harry looked around at his friends and just laughed. He reached over to take Draco’s hand in his own, and he let out a deep breath. If Luna was to be believed, he would just have to wait a week from now and Greyback would no longer be a threat.

XXX

July 16th 1998.

The statue of Lily and James and Harry watched over them as they fought. When Kingsley took a chance to look upon the golden statue it seemed, for a moment, as if James was grinning at him, cheering him on. He smiled, before flicking his wand harshly, his curse sending a werewolf flying across the courtyard.

Other Order members fought as well, each of them crying out spells and hexes, ducking out from under the werewolves’ spells. The werewolves that had once been Muggle charged at their targets, magicless, they were easier to defeat. The battle had been going on since the early morning, but they had underestimated the number of werewolves left uncaptured. Either that, or Greyback had been busy since Voldemort’s defeat.

Lucius gave a scream as a Crucio hit him. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain, and Arthur took one look at the pain-filled face of his ex-enemy and sighed. While he would have once loved to leave Lucius there, he knew he couldn’t. It would disappoint Harry greatly, and Arthur didn’t think he’d be able to sleep at night if he just walked away. With a battle cry, he took a running leap at the werewolf cursing Lucius, and landed on its back. They fell to the ground, freeing Lucius from the spell, but Arthur ended up pinned to the ground. Suddenly, the werewolf dropped down on top of him, still and heavy, with blood pouring from a gash in the back of its neck. Lucius looked down at him, wand and eyebrow raised, a smirk on his lips. He nodded. It was the closet he would ever come to telling a Weasley ‘thank you’.

They fought, and they screamed and they bled. And in the end, they conquered.

Many of the werewolves had been killed in the battle, but fortunately there was only one casualty on their own side. Greyback was the last to die, and with his death the remaining werewolves had laid down on the ground, whimpering in fear. Kingsley looked down on them, and frowned.

“Bring them into the Ministry.” He ordered. He turned to look at the body of the wolf he had just killed and frowned. Harry would probably be annoyed that he wasn’t there to witness Greyback’s death, but he was sure the young man would get over it.

They left Godric’s Hollow. The Witches and Wizard who had barricaded themselves into their homes the moment the Werewolves arrived in Bathilda Bagshot’s old home, cautiously peered out from behind their curtains. Some of them frowned at each other and some smiled and waved at the Aurors as they walked away from Godric’s Hollow.

Kingsley chuckled to himself. “What’s so funny?” Arthur asked.

“When Lily and James were killed, a whole load of people wanted to buy a house here, especially after the statue went up. Now, Voldemort attacked Bathilda’s home, fought Harry and Hermione here only months ago, and now Fenrir Greyback was killed beneath the Potter Memorial.”

Arthur gave a small chuckle as well. “I’m sure there will be a queue of people wanting to buy Bathilda’s home. Though it is in need of fixing up now.”

Lucius rolled his eyes at both of them, walking past them, and apparating back to Hogsmeade. He couldn’t wait to see how Harry reacted when he told them Greyback was dead. Now all they had to do was destroy the last Horcrux and Harry and Draco would finally be free to be with each other. Lucius smiled softly to himself. His family would finally be free.

XXX

1- Taken from the Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Rings. (Well, the movie at least).

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I really want to write an HP/LotR crossover. But the problem with that is that I don't really know all that much about LotR except what information I have gathered from other fictions and the movies. I have the books; I just don't like them enough to read them (LotR is the only adaptation where I thought the film was better than the original book). So I was wondering, if anyone out there is brilliant/obsessed/knowledgeable about LotR would they mind being a beta and correcting any information I happen to get wrong? It’s only going to be a one or two chaptered fiction - probably a long one shot - but still! Thanks.