Dream Lover

A/N-- This is gonna be a fairly long A/N, so feel free to skip to the story. I would like to dedicate this final chapter (of plot) to a few people who have been rather instrumental in feeding my plot bunnies: reviewers. Every time I receive a review, I eagerly run to see who it’s from and what they have to say. Some of your reviews have left me, brain sizzling, typing away at the keyboard, furiously trying to capture the entirety of the bunnies for this fic that you have inspired. This fic literally would not have been written if it hadn’t been for each of you. May the muse shine brightly for all. Ugh! Enough sappiness! On to the story!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Harry stalked through the castle, his anger driving him to keep moving. If he stopped, he would have to think, and right now thinking would be bad. He was so furious with the way events kept conspiring against him, the way his life seemed to grow more and more complicated the harder he worked to uncomplicate it.

He turned down a darkened hallway and came to a dead end. With a shout, he punched the wall in front of him, wincing at the pain that radiated up from his fist. Putting the top of his head against the cool brick, he rolled it back and forth, fighting down his anger. He’d already set several of the sconces throughout the castle aflame with the force of his ire; having at least double the amount of power at his disposal was wreaking havoc with his control. And the power wanted out, wanted to be used.

He sucked in a sharp breath and focussed on his breathing, clearing his mind as he’d been taught when learning to Occlude. He needed a clear head for everything he must still do; running off and giving into his fit of temper, satisfying though it was, wouldn’t solve a thing.

He gave a short, humourless laugh as he remembered the look on Dumbledore’s face when he had ordered the man away from him. ”I need you to go somewhere else, sir. Right now. If you stay here, I can’t guarantee that I won’t say something we both regret.” Dumbledore had blinked, obviously surprised that Harry had finally grown weary of his manipulation.

“Harry?” he heard behind him, and twisted to see Draco, standing at the entrance to the short hallway where he had sought refuge. The hint of uncertainty on his face had Harry cursing under his breath and striding forward quickly to wrap Draco in his arms.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to leave like that, I just…it was too much, you know?” he asked, face buried in Draco’s neck, relieved when he felt arms come up to circle him, one hand carding through his hair in a calming motion.

“If I had known you didn’t know, I would have told you, Harry,” Draco murmured, arms tightening for a moment in a gentle hug. “I would never have let you find out like that.”

Harry nodded, lips rubbing back and forth over the pulse point at the base of Draco’s throat, his anger dimming as he relaxed into Draco’s embrace. “What am I going to do, Draco?” he asked, a hint of panic seeping through him once more. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know,” Draco whispered. “But no matter what happens, what you decide, I’ll be here. No more running, no more hiding.”

Harry opened his eyes and started, seeing the two people standing so hesitantly at the end of the hallway. “Time to put that to the test, love,” he said, smiling softly as Draco followed his gaze and stiffened, uncomfortable.

Ron and Hermione were standing there, both looking a bit anxious. Ron seemed to have aged ten years overnight. Harry pulled away from Draco and went to hug his friend, knowing that no matter how bad it was for Harry right now, for Ron, it was worse. “I’m so sorry, Ron,” he said. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

He felt a shudder run through his friend’s body before he stiffened and pulled away, swallowing heavily and blinking rapidly. “M’fine,” Ron said hoarsely, then cleared his throat and nodded at Draco. “Malfoy.”

Hermione sighed and caught Harry’s gaze, rolling her eyes at the two young men standing so stiffly, looking at each other with years worth of hatred standing between them. Walking up to Draco, she smiled in her straightforward manner and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, and whispered something in his ear which had him emitting a shocked laugh.

Harry saw Ron shift his weight impatiently for a moment, obviously uncomfortable with Hermione’s open acceptance of Draco. “I love him, Ron,” he said quietly, watching his best friend’s face for any sign that his anger would get out of control.

“I know, mate,” Ron said, a surprised look on his face. “And I’m really fine with it…now. But I’m still not very comfortable with Hermione holding on to him like that. You’d think she’d remember who her boyfriend is.”

Harry laughed, feeling the tension that had building within him during the last few days dissipate at his friend’s disgruntlement. “Hermione,” he said through chuckles, “quit groping my boyfriend, and come take care of yours. Unless you want me to grope him.”

His teasing had quite a surprising effect; Hermione let go of Draco, of course, but Draco turned to him with a growl, handsome features darkening a bit as he said, “Mine. You’re mine, Harry, don’t forget that.”

Ron laughed uproariously at that blatantly possessive statement, leaning weakly against the wall as he filed this moment away to be used for teasing material in the future. “Jealous, Malfoy?” he asked, still sniggering helplessly.

Draco flushed a bit, but thrust his chin in the air, pride not allowing him to let the comment go unanswered. “I have it on good authority that Harry prefers blonds, so no, not really. I simply felt the need to remind him to whom he belongs.”

Hermione scowled at Draco, hands coming to her hips as she started castigating him for treating Harry like an object. “He’s not a possession, Draco, or a house-elf, or a thing to belong to you. He’s a living, breathing person, and you’d better remember that, because if you hurt him, I’ll…”

Harry smoothly stepped forward at that point, wrapping one arm around Hermione’s waist as he suggested, “You’ll what? Cross your arms at him and frown? Tap your toe? Or, Merlin forbid, lecture him?? Run, Draco! I’ll distract her.”

The four teens were all laughing by that point, and it was then that Harry knew everything would be all right. It was finally a new day.

~*~

“So,” Hermione said a while later, after they’d all had a chance to talk about the events of the past few days. “We heard you have to decide what to do about the surviving Death Eaters.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, stiffening slightly until he felt Draco squeeze his thigh in silent support. Draco and Ron had settled into a tentative peace after Draco had expressed his condolences to Ron, who had nodded, jaw working against his renewed grief, unable to speak for a few moments as he fought for composure.

“What are you going to do?” Ron asked, flicking a worried look at Draco. They all knew the implications of this. It would be up to Harry to decide the fate of Draco’s father, a chore Harry did not want.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, plucking at a loose thread on his sleep pants. He and Draco were still in their pyjamas, each having left the infirmary in too much of a rush to don normal clothing. “I really don’t know.”

“I think you need to speak with Snape,” Draco suggested softly, drawing three sets of startled eyes. With a shrug, he explained, “He can tell you everything you need to know, about the Death Eaters as a whole, as well as individuals.”

Harry smiled and nodded, leaning forward to brush a grateful kiss across Draco’s lips.

“Harry!” Ron moaned, aggrieved. “Do you have to do that in front of me?!”

“No,” Draco replied, an air of innocence surrounding him. “You’re welcome to leave so we can snog properly.”

Hermione snorted, but stood anyway, pulling on Ron’s arm. “We’ll leave you two alone, now. We need to get back to the infirmary anyway. The test results for Bill and Seamus will be coming in soon.”

All levity left the group at that quiet statement. Draco climbed to his feet, stepped up to Ron, and drew a deep breath, offering his hand. “If you, or your family, need anything, we…you…just let us know.”

Ron blinked and gingerly shook Draco’s hand, one corner of his mouth quirking upward as he said, “Yeah, thanks…mate.”

A loud sniffle from Hermione had the three boys looking at her askance. “Oh, never mind then!” she exclaimed, eyes teary. “Boys, I swear! Come along, Ron.”

Draco stood, watching them leave, a bemused look on his face. Suddenly a pair of arms twined around his waist, and Harry’s voice whispered in his ear, “Thank you. They’re the only family I have left. I…”

Draco turned around, sliding his arms behind Harry, as he said, “I know how important they are to you, Harry. Just as I know you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. I owe them more than friendship for keeping you safe for me all these years.”

Harry gave a dry chuckle, swallowing past emotion, even as he said, “Draco the Hufflepuff makes another appearance.”

Draco’s silver eyes narrowed dangerously, as he whispered, “Fancy sleeping on the couch for the rest of your life, Potter?” When Harry shook his head in the negative, shoulders quaking with silent mirth, he said, “Don’t ever utter such a foul insult again. Hufflepuff, indeed.”

Harry put one hand to the back of Draco’s head, pulling him down for a long, leisurely kiss, making them both forget, for the moment, all the decisions still to be made.

~*~

Severus Snape looked up as a knock sounded at the door to his office. He was attempting to set everything in order, not knowing what, exactly, the future held for him. “Come in,” he called, feeling another wave of soothing warmth run through his arm from his Mark.

It still managed to surprise him every time that happened. For over twenty years, all he’d felt was either bitter cold or pain there. Since Harry had defeated Voldemort, he felt warm inside for the first time in longer than he could remember. He didn’t think, owing to his childhood, that he’d ever really felt this peaceful.

The door opened slowly, and Harry peeked around it, gaze sweeping the room before landing on Snape. “Hello, sir. Do you have a moment?”

Snape raised one eyebrow at the question. Harry obviously still did not fully grasp the absolute power he held over all the Death Eaters. More so even than Voldemort had, considering he was far and away more powerful than the Dark Lord had ever been.

“Of course, Potter, do come in. Shut the door behind you, please. The drafts down here are not conducive to the stability of some of my more volatile potions.”

He watched as Harry entered the room, then turned to him with an apologetic glance. “Draco is with me, is that all right?”

“Certainly,” he said, lips twitching as Draco sauntered in and flopped down into the chair positioned across from his office desk. “Make yourself comfortable, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco smirked at his dry tone and slouched even further, grey eyes glinting with mirth when Snape merely lifted one eyebrow sardonically, and shook his head, before returning his full attention to Harry.

“Have you reached a decision, then?” Snape asked, his outwardly calm demeanour masking his inner turmoil.

Harry shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea what to do, sir. I’ve thought about it, and I just…I don’t know how I can judge them. I mean, I’ve never seen most of them before today—“

“Potter, has no one told you yet that it has been two days since you defeated Voldemort?” Snape asked quietly, knowing that a shock to Harry could be detrimental for them all.

“Two days?” Harry asked weakly, before sinking into a chair that went from hard and uncomfortable to soft and squishy within seconds. “I was unconscious that long? Why?”

“You received quite a shock to your magical core,” Snape replied. “It took that long for your magic to balance out enough for your body to contain it.”

“I think you just stayed out that long because you knew how worried I was,” Draco said with a huff of indignation, happily noting a glint of humour springing into Harry’s eyes.

Harry nodded. “Of course, that’s exactly why. You’re so cute when you’re worried.”

He laughed when Draco rolled his eyes, before continuing, voice once again serious, “So then, the other day was the first time I’ve seen most of them, and from what I’ve found out about the Mark, it’s very possible they had no choice in all this. Truly, how can they be blamed for anything that happened after they took the Mark? And some of them might have taken the Mark years ago, before Voldemort showed his true colours. What if some of them only joined him because they really felt that pure-bloods should be protected from the encroachment of Muggles on the wizarding world? Once they took the Mark…”

Snape nodded his head, understanding Harry’s plight. “It is a possibility that some of the Death Eaters were forced by circumstances beyond their control to commit the acts they did, in the name of the Dark Lord. However, be that as it may, they must still be punished. And, unfortunately, no one can decide their punishments except you, unless you cede control of them to another. The problem with doing that is that should you choose that route, you will also be required to dismantle the Vassal bond.”

Hope lit in Harry’s eyes at hearing that. “I can do that?” he asked.

“You need to think very carefully before doing such a thing, Potter,” Snape cautioned. “I understand that it would seem the ideal solution, but what you don’t see is that there are several very powerful wizards among the Death Eaters. Nowhere near as powerful as yourself, but if you were to simply dissolve the bond, they would be free. Free to become the next Dark Lord.”

“But those wizards, the truly powerful ones, I mean, they’re all in the inner circle, right?” Harry asked, mind whirling.

“That is correct. Voldemort was quite proud of his ability to make the proudest wizards obey his every command. Wizards like Lucius Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov. He kept the most powerful and influential near to him, where he could keep a close eye on them. The only reason I wasn’t as closely watched was because of my position here at Hogwarts. He was pleased to allow me to stay here, where I could watch and report on Dumbledore’s every move.”

“So then,” Harry paused, weighing everything in his mind before speaking again. “So then, maybe, I could bond over the ‘lesser’ Death Eaters, and only cast judgement on the inner circle? What do you think, sir?”

“Potter, you cannot ask me to make a decision like that,” Snape said quietly. “I would, in effect, be helping you to cast judgement on myself.”

“What?!” Harry asked sharply, jumping to his feet. “I’m not going to judge you, sir! I mean, you’re the only reason we’re all standing here right now. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have known how to defeat Voldemort, and we would either still be fighting, or the Death Eaters would have won.”

“Hey,” Draco said, reaching around to smack Harry lightly. “I could have told you how to kill him.”

“No,” Harry said softly, remembered panic darkening his eyes. “You would still have been trapped inside Voldemort’s mind.”

Draco closed his eyes and shuddered, remembering that all too well.

Snape broke in then, his voice resigned as he stated flatly, “I was a Death Eater, Potter. The world isn’t going to forget that.”

Harry’s body stiffened at that. “The rest of the world can go hang, sir. You did more to bring down Voldemort than anyone, and if people have a problem with that, too bad for them.”

Snape merely shook his head, knowing he would be proven right in the end. “You can champion me all you want, but nothing will take away the fact that I was a Death Eater, and the memories of wizards are very long indeed.”

Harry looked down, frustrated with this turn of events. He meant every word he had said. He would be damned if he would allow Snape to be subject to the same punishments as the rest of the Death Eaters. A thought came to him then, and he made a mental note to speak with Dumbledore as soon as possible.

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and put one hand to his head, pressing his thumb and middle fingers into his temples, trying to stave off a headache that was fast approaching. “I hate this!” he finally exploded. “I can barely think right now, because my entire freaking body is humming with energy. But I have to, because it’s all up to me, what happens now. ”

Draco stood up and went to Harry, putting his arms around him and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Pulling back, he looked at Harry, eyes puzzled, and raised a hand to push his fringe out of the way. “Harry?”

Harry opened his eyes wearily to find Draco looking at his forehead. With a disgruntled frown, he moved his hand to smooth the fringe back down when Snape’s voice stopped him. “Potter…your scar.”

Harry stilled, dread filling him. “What? Gods, what else could go wrong today?”

Draco smiled slightly, and said, “Actually, I think you’ll enjoy this. Professor, do you have a mirror?”

Snape shot him a look before transfiguring a quill holder into a hand mirror and handing it to Harry. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and lifted the mirror. Breathing a small prayer that it wasn’t flashing in neon colours or something, he opened them. And his jaw dropped.

His scar was…not gone, but faded. It looked the way any normal scar would look like after sixteen years, a faint white mark on his forehead, hardly noticeable. A small grin curved his lips as he looked at Draco. “’Scar Head’ doesn’t quite have the same punch now, does it, Ferret Face?”

“’Ferret Face’? Couch, Harry, remember the couch.”

Snape coughed into his hand upon hearing that, obviously trying to cover up laughter.

Hearing that sound, Harry turned to Snape, and asked the question he had wanted to ask since he woke. “Sir, why are you so different?”

Snape’s brows shot upward, surprised confusion showing on his face. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I mean, I’m not complaining or anything, but…I’m used to you being a right git, if you don’t mind me saying so, but today you’ve been so…well, different.” Harry shrugged, not sure exactly how to tell Snape what was off about him, but knowing something was.

“A right git? Yes, I suppose I have been, and for that I feel I must apologise, Potter.”

Draco moved away from Harry then, knowing this apology would be difficult for a man like Snape. As he walked around the small office, he perused the items on display. A nondescript journal bound in black leather caught his eye. As he picked it up and leafed through it curiously, he noticed it was a book of handwritten spells and potions.

Snape was still speaking across the room. “Potter, when you defeated Voldemort, all the darkness that he constantly emitted through the Mark went away. And your…the force of your personality, I suppose, what makes you a light wizard, is what is now transferring through the bond. There has always been a low level of pain in my arm, ever since I took the Mark. Now, it’s gone.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Snape said, “Part of my public persona was because of my status as a spy, but not all of it. Having a constant, dull ache accompanying me everywhere I went was certainly very detrimental to my temper.”

Harry blinked and opened his mouth. “What does it feel like now? I didn’t know I was doing anything.”

“It’s…” Snape scowled a bit, obviously uncomfortable describing this, “peaceful, and warm, and it feels rather like one of Molly Weasley’s hugs, if you must know.”

“So, this…you, I mean…this is the real you? You’re not hiding or in pain anymore, so this is what you’re really like?”

“It appears to be what I am like outside of the influence of Voldemort, yes.”

Draco smirked at the disgruntled tone of Snape’s voice, before he drew startled gasp. One of the spells in the journal he was perusing leapt off the page at him. It was the Morpheus Charm, the one that had been altered, the one that had brought him and Harry together. “Sir!” he called, turning surprised eyes on his professor. “You are the one who came up with this spell? The one used on Harry, I mean?”

“What?!” Harry asked, shocked. “Why did you create that spell, sir?”

Snape’s black eyes grew shuttered and he shot a calculating glance at Harry. Taking a deep breath, he invited both boys to sit, knowing the time had come for this particular discussion.

“Yes, Draco, in answer to your question, I am the one who manipulated the Morpheus Charm into the spell that was used on Potter.”

“You used it on him? Wow, sir, that’s…rather kinky,” Draco said, blinking a bit as he tried to reconcile his stern professor with a person who would seduce a student.

Snape blanched. “No, Mr Malfoy, I did not cast the spell on Potter. That was the work of Miss Weasley.” He took a few moments to fill Draco in on the events that had happened after Voldemort had captured his mind. While Draco was still reeling, Snape turned to Harry and said, “But the reason I manipulated the spell, Potter, that is something that I feel I need to tell you about. It will probably be difficult for you to hear, but it will explain my actions toward you over the past several years.”

Harry sat up straighter and nodded, sensing the seriousness in Snape’s words.

“When I was a student here, I was deeply in love with another student. Our…affair, if you will, lasted for several months, but because of outside pressures placed on us by our various houses, our friends, society in general…” Snape paused and took a deep breath, looking to the ceiling for inspiration.

Harry broke in, his voice pitched low and soothing. “Sir, I think Draco and I understand what you mean. It took my killing Voldemort for us to be able to be together.”

Snape nodded as his lips twisted in remembered pain. “A very good friend of mine was excellent with charms. You might know who I am speaking of, Potter.”

“My mum!” Harry said, eyes wide at Snape’s revelation that he had been close, very good friends, with Lily Potter.

“Indeed. While she did not exactly approve of my relationship with this other student, as she rather detested him for some of his actions and personality quirks, she knew how much I longed to be with him without fear of discovery. By that time, I had already become quite skilled with Legilimency. It has always been a natural gift for me, so we began to try to find ways to use my Legilimency to adapt certain spells and Charms, hoping one of them would work. When we came across the Morpheus Charm, Lily was quite excited that we could suit it to my purposes. We spent several weeks trying various manipulations, before we finally worked it all out one day during a rather dry Potions revision. That is how the final spell came to be in Miss Weasley’s used copy of Advanced Potions Making.”

Steepling his fingers and avoiding Harry’s gaze, he quietly continued, “Needless to say, I used the spell that night, cast it on my lover. I had no doubt that we were soul mates, none at all, you have to understand that part. Within a week, he had turned from me; the spell had backfired royally. Not only was he not my soul mate, nor I his, but my…Lily… she was.”

Harry sucked in a harsh gasp. “What?!?”

Draco picked his jaw up off the floor long enough to place a calming hand on Harry’s arm. A few potions exploded in the time it took Harry to rein in his shock.

“You…my father…how is that possible?!”

Snape closed his eyes and said softly, “Opposite sides of the coin, Potter. Our disdain turned to love. When that love was forsaken, it turned to a burning hate. I couldn’t forgive him, or her. I saw it as a betrayal, when, in actuality, it was nothing of the sort. When they were killed—“ Snape swallowed heavily, an emotion in his eyes that was difficult to bear.

Harry lowered his gaze, still not quite able to believe what he was hearing, but knowing that Snape wouldn’t lie to him, couldn’t lie to him.

“And then,” Snape continued gruffly, “ten years later you showed up here, looking so much like him. But with her eyes. It was too much for me. The anger, the betrayal, it all came back to me and coloured my attitude toward you. Again, I apologise.”

Realising that this conversation needed at least the illusion of privacy, Draco again stood and moved away from the desk, going back to the black journal and reading the details of the spell, marvelling at the sheer brilliance and attention to detail that had gone into it. Looking back at Snape, a wicked glint appeared in his eyes.

“That’s why you became a Death Eater, isn’t it?” Harry asked Snape, finally understanding the force that could have driven this proud man to Voldemort.

“Yes. My pain and anger was so great that I turned toward the dark path. Toward Voldemort. I followed the rest of my House and took the Mark directly after sitting my NEWTs. For a year, I lived in horror at what I was doing. Then, I overheard part of the prophecy regarding you. Voldemort had ordered us all to tell him any information we might glean from the faction working against him, the Order of the Phoenix. So, I told him, unaware that Lily and James were expecting their first child. When I realised this, that the prophecy referred to you, and that Voldemort was planning to kill both you and your parents, I fled to Dumbledore and told him everything. It was that night that I became a spy. Not that it mattered much, since it was not long before Voldemort cast the killing curse on you, which rebounded on him, but Dumbledore knew he would be back.”

Harry nodded, knowing full well Dumbledore would have not had any reservations of using Snape’s guilt and anguish to further the cause of the Order. It had been war; difficult decisions always had to be made during times of war. He couldn’t even truly fault the Headmaster for his actions.

“Thank you for telling me that, sir. I have to admit, after what I saw in your Pensieve during fifth year, I had questions as to why my mother ever loved my father. Actually, as to that, I’m surprised you were ever able to love him.”

Snape’s mouth twisted grimly. “He was actually rather easy to love, Potter. Foolish Gryffindor though he was.”

Harry grinned slightly, “Had to get that in, didn’t you, sir?”

Snape shook himself slightly and changed the subject. “Have you come to a decision regarding the Death Eaters? The Headmaster was correct, Potter; you will need to hold the judgements soon.”

Harry nodded and started formulating ideas, using Snape as a sounding board, gratified to finally see respect and approval in the man’s eyes. While they were talking, they both missed Draco surreptitiously casting a spell on Snape.

~*~

“The judgements of the persons previously Marked as Death Eaters will now commence.”

The voice of the Ministry official rang out in the Great Hall the next day. The official was there to record Harry’s judgements for official publication. He was in no way allowed to interfere or give suggestions for punishments.

Harry nodded to Snape, asking him to step forward. With a glance at Dumbledore, he spoke loudly and clearly. “Severus Snape, for your actions in furthering the efforts of the light during the war against the Dark Lord Voldemort, at great personal risk to yourself, I free you from your bond.”

He grinned as he watched Snape’s eyes widen in surprise. Stepping forward, he grasped Snape’s arm, and placing the palm of his wand hand over the Mark, he focused on the bond he could feel so clearly it was nearly visible, and intoned, “Adsertum!”

Snape gasped and went to his knees, the wash of magic leaving him momentarily weak. For the first time in over seventeen years, he was whole, and belonged only to himself. He could almost feel the weight of shackles falling from him.

“Potter,” he began, only to have Harry shake his head at him.

“You’re free, sir. You proved yourself time and again a hero for the light. Now, the whole world will know what you did to help this day come to be. Don’t be surprised if someone starts a Severus Snape fan club.”

Snape snorted at that thought, but moved to the side when he heard the Ministry official call out a list of names. The Death Eaters who stepped forward were all minor players, they had done very little damage during the war, but were still due judgement.

Harry looked at them all, his face grave with the weight of having to punish people who may have merely been misguided. “Each of you will surrender your wands to the Ministry representative. Your wands will be held by the Ministry until such a time as you have proven yourselves fit to carry them once more. In addition, you will each spend the sum of two years in Azkaban. It is my hope that you will use that time to think about the choices you made that placed you there. Every person touched by magic is worthy of it. The magic chooses the person.”

Snape watched as many within the crowd of approximately fifty witches and wizards cried out in relief. Most had been certain they would not survive the judgements, or that if they did, they would never again be able to use magic. Hope had just been restored to them. Harry’s mercy for his enemies would be told far and wide after this day.

Another group was called forward. These Death Eaters, while not part of the Inner Circle, had been actively involved in Voldemort’s machinations. Snape glanced at Harry and saw resignation in his green eyes.

“Each of you will surrender your wands to the Ministry representative. Your wands will be destroyed, and you are banned from ever doing magic again. You will report to Azkaban, to spend the sum of twenty years in confinement. Again, I would caution each of you to review the decisions you made that brought you to this point. Your lust for power has driven it from you. May you learn from that.”

Nodding to the Ministry official, the man recited a short list of names. “Vincent Crabbe Sr., Greyback Fenrir, Rudolphus Lestrange, and Lucius Malfoy, come forward to be judged.”

The four men stepped forward, all four glaring at Harry. These were the last surviving members of the Inner Circle. The rest had been killed in the final battle. Snape felt his lips curl in dark satisfaction as he remembered casting the spell to eviscerate Bellatrix after she threw the Slashing Hex at Draco. Magic had never felt so good. The sight of her face as her internal organs hit the stone floor would be one he would cherish always.

Snape’s attention returned to the proceedings as Harry’s anguished gaze sought out Draco, who nodded once and left the Hall. Drawing in a ragged breath, Harry said, quietly, “You will surrender your wands to the Ministry representative. Your wands will be destroyed. Your properties, lands, accounts, and anything else that belongs to you will be turned over to the Ministry. Your assets will be liquidated and the money used to help the families of those you violated. You will each be taken to the Ministry, where you will each be put through the Veil.” Harry’s voice cracked on the last bit.

Drawing a shuddering breath, he looked out at the witches and wizards gathered in the Great Hall. He had thought long and hard about what he wanted to say, and finally he chose simply to speak from the heart. “Let this be a lesson to all. Darkness has no place in our world. Magic, freely given by the gods, is the right of the individual blessed by that magic. I am a half blood, and my Muggle heritage is just as important as my wizarding heritage. No one, no one, has the right to kill another because of the blood that runs through their veins, or to judge them based on the amount of magic they possess. Everyone, both wizard and Muggle alike, has the right to live in peace. Because of the sacrifices of the many who have fallen, we are finally granted that peace. Let us all live as we were meant to; let this be a new day.”

All those in the Hall not subject to the judgements, and quite a few who were, let out a cheer that could be heard as far as Hogsmeade.

A/N: Epilogue coming soon.