Dearest Harry - Eileen's Story

A/N - This chapter is nearly twice as long as usual! But I am off on holiday tomorrow, so I thought you deserved a treat. I will have my laptop with me so I will still be updating the story. I plan to finish it before Deathly Hallows comes out. But my updating will be fairly erratic for the next two weeks.

Thanks Claudia for making sense of my ramblings! ~ Lucie


Thirty seven

Harry and Percy staggered along the corridor. There was no real light to help guide them, but the occasional sliver that escaped from underneath one of the doors was just enough to outline the passage that they were in.

Harry wasn’t giggling now, he was struggling to walk. Even leaning against Percy as he was they weren’t getting very far.

Harry’s magic was just too weak; it wasn’t healing him as fast as he needed it too.

Percy kept saying that he couldn’t believe how well Harry could use magic, how well he seemed to be doing. He had witnessed what “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named” had done to Harry and by rights Harry ought to be dead or insane.

Harry thought he probably was insane, and right now he didn’t feel far off death either. He also had this tremendous feeling urge to smack Percy really, really hard. Had he always been this annoying? Harry wondered

They were making very slow progress. Harry couldn’t seem to lift his feet properly; and so he was sort of shuffling along. Then all at once he caught his toe on a slightly raised paving stone and fell crashing to the ground, taking Percy with him, the other boy fell too, he had been holding so tightly onto Harry that he did not have a chance to save himself.

Harry couldn’t save himself. He hit the ground hard and then Percy landed on top of him. It hurt so fucking much that Harry let out a string of very colourful expletives.

Percy sat up and Harry groaned and carefully rolled onto his back and started another string of the expressive words.

“Fucking, shitting, buggery, sodding, bastard stone fucking floors, stupid shitty wankery….”

“Please Harry!” Percy wailed in apparent distress, “please, stop saying those things.”

Harry didn’t feel like laughing this time.

He was lying on the fucking floor, having jarred all his bones, having re-awakened all the really sore bits that had just about faded to a nice dull agony and Percy was moaning at Harry about swearing?

Harry was just about to tell Percy what he could do with his prissy attitude when they heard a voice.

“Hello? Who’s there? Can you help us? Please help us?”

Harry sat up then.

Percy had opened his mouth to say something. Harry could just about see him in the gloom. But Harry raised a hand to forestall him.

“Where are you?” he asked.

The woman, because it sounded like a woman, let out a sound which Harry thought was probably a sob.

“Here, we are just here. Please help us, please!”

Harry and Percy had fallen just a couple of feet away from a heavy wooden door and the voice was coming from in there. Harry crawled over.

He knelt beside the door for a moment and wondered what the heck he was going to say.

“Er….move away from the door,” he finally said, “we are going to try to open it. Perce,” he continued, “come here.”

Percy scuttled over

“Harry we have to get out of here!” He hissed, sounding urgent. “Yeah, whatever!” Harry answered dismissively. There was no way he was just going to abandon these people to whatever fate Voldemort had in store for them. “Can you help me up?”

Percy muttered something under his breath, something about, ‘annoying suicidal brats,’ and Harry nearly laughed. For a moment it was almost like being back at the Burrow arguing about thick-bottomed cauldrons.

Instead he just shushed Percy and leaned his head against the door for a second whilst he pondered what to do.

He tried feeling around with his hands to see if there was a way to open the door. There seemed to be no handle or lock. He could try a spell, it might work. Harry thought that perhaps just a simple opening spell would be enough. This was a cellar, wasn’t it? Whoever’s house this was may not have bothered with complicated spells down here, especially if some sort of dampening wards had been placed on the house wherever it was. He didn’t think that he could manage silent magic as well as wandless magic so he just went for the wandless.

He stood up tall, braced himself against the door and whispered “Alohomora”

Harry’s first thought when the door swung open and he crashed to the floor he crashed to the floor again, was that leaning against a door that you had just spelled open was perhaps not the wisest thing to do. It was at times like this that he really missed Hermione. Then he shuddered, because he really didn’t want Hermione to be here, in danger. He wanted her safe; he wanted all his friends to be safe.

When Harry looked up, two people were staring down at him.

They were filthy, completely covered in dirt from head to toe. The woman’s hair was all over the place, wild and wiry as if it had not been brushed for months. Her cheeks were hollow; like she’d hadn’t been fed properly for weeks and her skin was pale and papery. The man was partially hidden in the shadows, but there was something about him that seemed vaguely familiar.

Then all at once he knew. “Mr Ollivander?” Harry said in astonishment.



Spell light was flashing back and forth in the darkness; the battle had been raging on for what seemed like hours. It seemed to Severus that all of Voldemort’s Death Eaters must be here tonight; they were indeed quite formidable when assembled like this.

Severus, Kingsley and Moody had set up a command and hospital post on the other side of the Ha- ha*. Hermione, Luna and Ron Weasley were there right now, under the command of Poppy Pomfrey. They were helping those who had been wounded by spells. There were indeed some nasty spells flying around. They mostly seemed to be variations of cutting curses. But one man had had an arm hexed off and another seemed to be totally blind. The unguent that Severus and Eileen had made, using samples from Harry’s animagus form seemed to be helping enormously with the healing process. But some spells were much more complicated and it seemed that Neville seemed had been given the task of apparating those most injured to St Mungo’s.

Currently Severus was working his way back to the demolished wall near the ruined rose garden. He didn’t want to leave Draco on his own for too long. Draco had refused to help the others with hospital duty and had opted to help Kingsley instead, citing the fact that he knew the grounds better than anyone else and was therefore best suited in the front line. But Kingsley was currently delivering a wounded Auror to the hospital post and so Draco would have no-one to defend him right now.

Severus had managed to defeat Tiberius Snodgrass, a particularly nasty piece of work, who loved torturing Muggles. He had taken him back to the command post and left him with Robbie Bones. Captured Death Eaters were being apparated back to the Ministry where they would undergo a severe grilling later on.

From what Severus could see they seemed to have decimated Voldemort’s ranks as a number of the Dark Lord’s favourites were either dead or in custody. This meant, of course, that those who were left seemed to be fighting with especial ferocity.

Severus dodged a spell, that had missed its target and ducked behind a large Azalea, which looked as though it might not recover from whatever it had had done to it. Severus was just glad that Narcissa was not here to see the destruction of her beautiful garden.

He was still desperately worried about Harry; they had been fighting for what seemed like hours and they had made no real progress. They had certainly killed or captured
a significant number of Death Eaters, but they were no nearer to finding Harry than they had been when they first arrived. He wondered if there were any way of getting closer to the house, closer to Harry and then just in front of him he heard a familiar voice scream.



Percy had helped Harry up again.

He was staring in what appeared to be absolute astonishment at the woman with wild hair.

“Mmmadam Bones?" he stuttered incredulously

Harry stared too. “I thought you were dead,” he said, ignoring Percy’s wince, presumably at Harry’s lack of manners. .

“So did I Mr Potter, so did I. But as you can see I am not. Mr Ollivander and I have been kept in this cellar for a very long time. For some reason “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named” is keen to keep us here with him. Surprisingly neither of us have been even tortured. He has hurt you though, hasn’t he child?”

Harry’s chest felt tight. He didn’t know what to do when people gave him sympathy. He was slowly learning to accept it from Eileen and Severus to a certain extent, but from people who were almost strangers, that was hard!

He was leaning against Percy, opening the door had left him very weak indeed, but finally his legs gave out and he felt like he couldn’t stand anymore. Luckily Percy was strong and didn’t let him fall. Madam Bones rushed forward and took his other arm. “Oh my dear, we must get you sitting down!” she said

“But Madam Bones, we have to get out of here, they could be back at any moment!” Percy sounded quite frantic. “They can’t catch us they’ll kill him! And….and…Oh Circe, the things that they said they would do to me!”

“We have no choice, Mr Weasley,” Amelia Bones said, clearly demonstrating that she was not going to make the mistakes that Fudge always did with Percy’s name. “Mr Ollivander and I are very weak. There is no way that we could manage to get two badly injured men out of here! We will just have to wait and hope for rescue.”

“But I’m not injured,” Percy said, puzzled.

“No, I can see that you are not, unfortunately our fellow house guest is.” As she spoke, Amelia Bones moved to one side revealing a figure tucked away in the corner. He was slumped on what seemed to be a thin pile of worn blankets. He was obviously in a great deal of pain. His face was drawn and very pale. He was shaking even harder than Harry and curled in a foetal position, paying very little attention to what was going on around him. He was whimpering quietly to himself.

Harry would have known him anywhere. Even if he had not seen a younger version of those distinctive features only hours before, he would still have recognised him by that unusual shade of white blond hair, clearly noticeable even in the gloom. The man in the corner was Lucius Malfoy.





Severus reached Draco in no time at all. He found that he did not care about the hexes that were flying all around him, a simple Protego, seemed more than enough to deflect the worst of them. He just wanted to save Draco. The boy was yet another child of whom he had become inordinately fond.

Someone in Death Eater robes was standing over the boy and Draco’s arm was bleeding profusely where he was suffering from the effects of a cutting hex.

“You are just as weak as your father, you’re pathetic! Call yourself a pureblood!” Whoever it was who was hexing Draco she was obviously getting a great deal of pleasure from insulting as well as hurting him.

“I suggest you leave the boy alone.” Severus said coldly. He had been going to say something about ‘picking on someone your own size,’ but had Draco been standing hewould have towered over the woman, whoever she was, she was small and squat. At the sound of his voice she turned round rapidly.

“Ah Severus!” Good of you to join us! So it turns out that you are a traitor after all? What a pity!”

“Funnily enough, I was about to call you a traitor Dolores. For that is what you are after all.” Severus snarled, as he confronted the woman who had kidnapped Harry. “It is a pity that you did not stay in the forest you evil old hag! Now what have you done with my nephew?”

Umbridge, laughed hollowly.

“Your nephew! Really Severus you are fooling no-one! You always hated the dirty little brat as much as I did! I certainly know he hates you more than he hate me, and he hates me a very great deal! He only had one year of me at school, Severus, you taunted him for years!

“All of that bullshit in the Daily Prophet about how it was all a pretence because you were a spy who had to maintain deep cover! Don’t make me laugh. I saw how he looked at you! He detested you then. He still does, doesn’t he Severus?”

If she had hexed him, Severus would have been fine, he would have fought back, given as good as he got. Severus was a very strong wizard.

But instead she was tearing him apart with words. All of that dreadful year when Umbridge was at Hogwarts, Severus had hated Harry. Truly hated him. Had hated him for himself, not just for being his father’s son, but for receiving what Severus believed to be his undeserved, fêted celebrity. A celebrity awarded for something that had happened when he was a child, something that had not been Harry’s doing, that been all about Lily’s sacrifice. Severus had thought that Harry revelled in being much admired for something that he had no control over. He now knew how wrong he had been, that the Harry that he had hated so much, whose suffering under Umbridge’s regime had given him such perverse pleasure, had never existed.

That year, the year that the boy lost Sirius Black, that was the year that they nearly lost Harry too and Severus still felt crushing guilt for the way he had treated Harry..

“No.” he said, slowly beginning to back away. “I don’t hate him anymore, he doesn’t hate me.”

“I saw his face when he used to look at you,” Umbridge hissed, she was closing on him, moving closer. “Don’t tell me that you are stupid enough to think that he cares about you now either. He is a liar. It is carved into his hand for all the world to see. Did he tell you he liked you Severus? Did you believe him? You wouldn’t be the first person to be deluded by Potter! Look at Dumbledore. He believed in him too. He keeps failing Severus. He was so easy to snatch tonight. So easy to kill.

“No.” Severus said, he put his hands to his ears. He barely noticed the smug, self-satisfied smile that could be seen below the stark, white Death Eater mask. He didn’t see her raise her wand either.

Severus found that he could not even stand to think that Harry hated him. He couldn’t bear it. He didn’t think that Harry was dead, not yet at least. But what if it had all been a pretence? What if he did still hate Severus? What if Harry were just pretending to like him for Eileen’s sake? This was his secret fear, exposed. Umbridge knew it, she’d guessed. Maybe there was some truth in what she was saying?

“Shut up you bitch!” Draco had obviously recovered a little whilst Umbridge had been taunting Severus, “You are the one that is the fucking liar! I saw what you did to Harry’s hand. He loves Severus you cow, leave him alone!”

Umbridge had whirled on Draco now, her wand out and whatever spell she was using on him, he was in agony, his back arched and his mouth fell open in a silent scream

“You shut up, blood traitor,” she was shouting. “Consorting with dirt, with scum! Werewolves, Mudbloods, dirty magic! It will all be destroyed, eradicated when the Dark Lord comes to glory!”

When Severus had killed Albus, it had been the hardest thing that he had ever had to do. He’d felt like it had torn his soul. Although the recent weeks had done so much to heal him it had still been agony, the worst pain he had ever felt. He wouldn’t let Umbridge destroy what he had with his nephew. He couldn’t lose Harry, wouldn’t lose him now!

He saw his hand rise, as if it belonged to someone else. It wasn’t his hand anymore, it was just a tool, he felt the words leave his lips, the magic leave his wand. Severus had only ever killed one other person like this using this spell. He had killed Albus. This time it was not painful to do, it was almost pleasurable to end her life

He completed the spell and cold green light flew like an arrow, sure and true from the end of his wand and hit Dolores Umbridge squarely in the chest. Then she was falling, falling, falling

With just two words Severus had killed her.



They sat Harry beside Malfoy. “So we are in Malfoy Manor?” he asked them, “This is Draco’s home?”

“Yes Harry, didn’t you know?” It was Percy who answered him.

“How would I know, Percy?” Harry said rather snappily. He was tired and in a lot of pain again “I have never been here before!”

Percy blushed and looked away.

“Sorry,” he said. Harry felt awful. Percy had been trying really hard to help him. But he was such hard work! He was so different from Ron and the rest of the Weasleys come to that. Just for a second Harry had a flash of what it must be like to be Percy neat, precise and organised in a house that was full of loud messy extroverts. He had always been the odd one out, hadn’t he? But if it weren’t for Percy right now, Harry didn’t know where he would be.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing Percy’s arm, “I don’t mean to take it out on you. I just hurt you know?”

Percy nodded and gave Harry a tentative smile.

“Mr Potter,” Amelia Bones said, “where is your wand? We do need to get out of here, maybe you could transfigure something that we could use to transport you and Mr Malfoy? Who keyed you into the wards by the way, was it Narcissa.”

“Er…I don’t have a wand, Madam Bones,” Harry told her, “and nobody has keyed me into the wards, my magic just seems to be coming back all on its own. It’s weak and fragmented, but it is there.”

It was gloomy in this room, quite dark in fact. But Harry could not miss the fact that everyone was now staring at him. Even Lucius Malfoy.

Draco’s father was in a terrible state. It was obvious that he had been tortured, probably for hours on end. His hair was greasy and plastered to his scalp, his faced was bruised and puffy in places and he seemed to be riddled with open weeping sores. He had stopped whimpering and rocking when the others had lowered Harry to sit beside him. He was not speaking, but he was looking steadily at Harry, not even blinking. It was quite spooky really Harry thought, he couldn’t help himself, he shivered.

The man struggled to sit up. He was shaking almost as badly as Harry was so Ollivander rushed over to help him. When he spoke his speech seemed slurred.

“You did magic, here in this house?” he asked, he was staring hard at Harry now.

Harry blushed, though he had no idea why.

“Yes.” Harry said simply.

Malfoy looked at him for several long moments before he spoke again. His words were still slurred but he was speaking slowly, enunciating every single word.

“To overcome the wards is impossible, except for one thing.” He took a deep breath, talking was obviously very hard for him. “The wards must have accepted you, you will have nothing like all of your power, but the wards do not see you as a threat. You have helped my family haven’t you?”

The man seemed exhausted by the long speech as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was breathing hard.

“I did take your family in, Mr Malfoy we have protected them.” Harry said, he didn’t know what else he could say. To start with he didn’t know where Draco was right now. He hoped and prayed that Draco was safe, but he didn’t know for certain, and what else could he say? Your son and I are more than just friends? I love Draco and would never harm him.

He didn’t even like Lucius Malfoy and he was determined that he was not going to have any sort of conversation with the man right now. The man was obviously in a lot of pain, as was Harry come to that. But if he started spouting some of the prejudiced nonsense that he usually came out with Harry would have to hit him – he wasn’t strong enough to hex the man – and it was obvious to Harry that they needed to work together to get out of here. Merlin knew how they would manage, the state that he and Lucius Malfoy were in, but they had to try.

For a long moment no one spoke and then Lucius Malfoy said in a husky broken voice.

“Mr Potter, would you be so good as to give me your hands? Amelia, we need to be facing each other, will you help me sit up?”

It was Percy that moved forward to help, Percy who held Lucius Malfoy as he took Harry’s hands in his own. Everyone else was so much weaker, everyone else was ill or in pain. Percy was the only one among them who was so far unbroken.

Harry thought this was totally surreal, this man had hated him in the past and Harry had returned those feelings in full, and here he was, trusting Malfoy to release his magic. Yet another bizarre twist in Harry’s strange and peculiar life.

Lucius Malfoy began to chant under his breath. He used a language that Harry did not recognise, it sounded ancient, far older than civilisation. As Malfoy chanted Harry felt a tingling in the air, a feeling of strength and well being started to flow gently through Harry’s veins and then all at once it was if someone had opened floodgates that Harry hadn’t even known were closed and his body seemed infused with, heat and health and magic

It was easy enough for Severus to carry Draco. The boy was ridiculously light for his age and height, just like Harry was. What bothered Severus though was the way that the remaining Death Eaters seemed to be melting from the battlefield in the direction of the Manor, it was as if they were fleeing back to safety, worried that their opponents were about to attack and Severus could not work out why. He had thought that the Order and its supporters were weakening. More people had been injured in the last few minutes it seemed, people were getting tired they were making mistakes, the lack of battle experience of many of the combatants was beginning to show.

Voldemort had yet to make an appearance. But Severus did not feel like celebrating the Dark Lord’s absence all he wanted to do was find his nephew. Harry had been missing for nearly two hours now and Severus was becoming more and more worried.

He decided that he would deliver Draco to the command post and then grab someone with a bit of experience, like Kingsley, for example and head for the Manor itself. There had to be some way through, surely there did? He couldn’t fail on this, he couldn’t let himself fail. Harry could be injured, he could be in pain. Voldemort could be in the house, still torturing Harry whilst the battle raged outside

But then Severus got no further, because the command post seemed to be fleeing towards him. For a moment he stopped and wondered what they could be running from. The he saw them, coming through the trees ahead, illuminated by brief flashes of spell light. Hundreds of Inferi.

Severus lowered Draco to the ground and started to try to grab anyone that he recognised. Everyone seemed to be panicking and they were dashing towards the house, not thinking, not stopping. The Manor House where the Death Eaters were gathering. They were running into a trap.

Finally he saw Kingsley and grabbed him. The big Auror was not running, he was instead backing away from the Inferi, sending out spell after spell, none of which seemed to be working.

The Inferi, just kept coming. They had almost reached the Ha-ha now and behind them, driving them on, waving his arms to drive on his mindless soldiers was the Dark Lord. Voldemort was not at the house, he was here at the battle, bringing re-enforcements to the fray.




Harry was feeling desperate. He could not seem to get the others to move. Once his magic had come back, Harry had felt energised, ready to leave. But the others who had shared his captivity did not seem able to hurry. Although Ollivander and Amelia Bones were in far better shape than Harry had been they were still obviously struggling to keep up.

The corridors were long and dark, the floor uneven. They kept tripping up, stumbling. He and Percy were trying to support Lucius Malfoy but the man was in a dreadful state. Harry was worried about how Draco would react when he saw his father. The once proud Pureblood. Who now could not walk unaided and seemed to be struggling to move even with the support of Harry and Percy.

They had been struggling on for nearly ten minutes but they were not getting very far. Harry would normally just cast Mobilicorpus but Madam Bones had forestalled him when he tried to do that earlier. Lucius Malfoy it seemed had had some kind of dark spell cast on him, one that made him react to magic. They had tried a simple cleansing charm on him, just a few days ago and he had screamed in agony. Apparently it not only made whatever tortures the Death Eater’s were using on him so much more painful, but it seemed also to reverse the effects of light magic, turning them into the equivalent of dark curses too.

Harry despaired that they would ever get out of this dark benighted place. They finally reached the end of the long corridor and Harry felt his blood run cold. He had been smelling smoke for a little while, but he had ignored it, thinking it to be outside. But this smoke seemed very close now and much thicker. If they didn’t get out now then they might not get out at all, their exit may soon be blocked by the flames that he could just see beginning to dance at the other end of the corridor into which they had turned. There was only one way that they could go now and they would have to hurry, they were being pursued by flames.

Harry turned to Amelia Bones.

“Can Mr Malfoy touch magic?” he asked, “Is he affected if he touches something magical?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. She had obviously seen the flames too, her eyes were wide with terror.”

“Harry we have to go!” Percy was getting worried as well, “we have to leave him, we can help the others an still be able to get out but. Harry we have to leave him.”

Lucius Malfoy’s head drooped, “The boy is right Potter, you must leave me, I am slowing everyone down. You must get away!”

“No!” Harry said, “We are in this together, nobody gets let behind! Now can someone tell me, can you touch magic?”

“I…I…have a photo of Draco and Narcissa. …I…I…have kept it all along, I can touch that. That is magical”

“Okay,” Harry said emphatically, “We might be okay then, Percy, you have to hold Mr Malfoy, I’m going to try something, don’t panic, I will not hurt you, I won’t hurt anyone, I promise, and if it works then we’ll be getting out, we’ll be going home.”



Severus had at last made the panicked wizards stop their flight. Not all of them perhaps, but enough for now at least. He thought he had managed it by sheer force of will alone, but he had managed it. The Inferi were still mindlessly heading towards them, relentless in their forced march.

He had arranged his raggletaggle troops in two rows. One row faced towards the Ha-ha and the fields beyond, waiting for the Inferi to get closer. The other row defended them from the Death Eater ranks behind them, who were again flowing out form the Maonr and joyfully sending a rain of hexes at them. They thought they had won didn’t they? They thought the battle was over.

Severus tightened his jaw. He was not giving in that easily. All those years of learning dark magic were surely not a total waste? How else could dark magic be overcome sometimes other than to use dark spells in retaliation? And this spell was particularly dark

Neville Longbottom was crying, and for once Severus could not blame the boy, for if this didn’t work then they were all lost. As they reached the Ha-ha the Inferi started to fall into the ornamental ditch. That was when Severus gave the command and each and every one of the wizards that he had assembled aimed their wands and simultaneously cast Conflagrate. and all at once the ditch and all those Inferi that had fallen into it became a bright mass of the hottest, most unquenchable flame. Conflagrate could not be quenched by a flame freezing charm, or by any other method, until it had done its job at least. The flames would not die until all trace of the creatures that were currently tumbling into the ferocious inferno had been eradicated. Then it would die away leaving not a trace and it would be as if the flames had never burned at all.

Severus saw Voldemort Disapparate, heard his frustrated below and heard the pops behind him that signified his Death Eaters had done the same. What might have been a masterstroke that secured Voldemort’s victory had been instead a crushing defeat.

But now at last he could go and find Harry and take him home.

He stood and watched for just a few seconds long making sure that Voldemort had truly gone and then he registered the grief stricken sounds surrounding him and turned back towards the Manor.

What he saw froze his blood in his veins.

The Manor was on fire too; it was blazing as fiercely as the ditch behind them

Hermione was sobbing. Ron Weasley held her in his arms and stared ahead of him in horror. Severus saw him mouth the word Harry, and watched the tears make their way unnoticed down his cheeks.

Draco was on his knees, his face too a mask of horror as he watched Malfoy Manor burn

Severus too fell to his knees. How would they find Harry in that? Even as he watched he saw one wing collapse in on itself with a tremendous roaring noise.

He buried his face in his hands, he simply could not watch. And he could even begin to imagine how would he tell Eileen that Harry was dead or at best still in the clutches of the Dark Lord?

For a second or two he did not move, but then he felt a tentative touch, like the brush of a bird’s wing.

“Professor? Professor Snape. You have to get up now, Harry needs you!”

Severus felt overwhelmed by despair; they had fought so hard tonight, struggled so hard, and all for nothing. He was no nearer finding Harry than he had been when the boy had first been taken. Severus could only hope that Voldemort still had him, that he was at least alive. Because if Harry and Percy had been in the Manor house then there was no hope for them at all.

“Professor!” It was Luna; she was tugging at his sleeve. “Harry needs you!” Severus was about to snarl at her, tell her to back off, leave him alone. That he knew full well that Harry needed him but that there was not a lot he could do about it right now. He looked up at her, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking towards where the house had once stood. They all were, all those gathered around him. And the looks of despair that had been so evident just moments before were nowhere to be seen.

Draco who had knelt at Severus feet, seemingly with no hope left in his heart was still cradling his injured arm, but he was smiling and then as Severus watched he began to laugh.

Severus followed his gaze. There ahead of them, emerging from the smoke, illuminated by the flames were some five figures. There was a man; even from this distance Severus could tell it was Percy. He was supporting a woman, who was limping badly but still struggling on. Another man, who looked for all the world like Ollivander the missing wand maker, followed closely behind the pair. The fourth figure might be considered the source of Draco’s joy, for it was the boy’s father and he was very obviously still alive.

But the fifth figure was the one that was truly remarkable. Walking slowly and purposefully carrying Lucius Malfoy and supporting Ollivander, was Harry. Severus began to laugh too. Never had Harry looked more magnificent in Severus’ eyes, he had never been more pleased to see his nephew in all the time that he had known him. Harry was coming home and bringing home those that were lost and he was doing it as a lion.


*The ha-ha is a feature in the landscape gardens laid out by Charles Bridgeman, the originator of the ha-ha, according to Horace Walpole (Walpole 1780) and by William Kent and was an essential component of the "swept" views of Capability Brown. Malfoy Manor is the kind of house that would probably have features such as a Ha-ha. If you are interested in learning more then go to the url posted below.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ha-ha_(garden)