In Love and War

Title: In Love and War
Description: My take on HP Book 7. Harry and his friends need to find the Horcruxes in order to defeat Voldemort and end the war, but they receive unexpected help along the way. Eventual HP/DM. HBP Spoilers. Please read and review.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or franchise. This is just what I wanted to happen in Book 7, nothing more.


One: An Unexpected Arrival

The dark sad green eyes of the young man watched the sun set from his windowsill. The boy called Harry Potter looked out of the window toward the slowly darkening sky, ignoring the conversation going on in his room. The voices of his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger seemed muffled and distant although the two were seated quite close to him. Harry put his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and trying to forget everything that was happening to him.

He heard the blurred sound of someone’s voice, sounding almost foreign and bizarre to his ears, but Harry did not move or respond.

“Harry…are you alright?”

Harry’s head shot up immediately, his messy black hair going all about his face and over the top of his glasses, obscuring his vision. He blinked confusedly for a moment before looking over toward the concerned face of Hermione Granger. She and Ron had stopped the conversation they were having and both were watching Harry, equal amounts of concern evident in their furrowed brows.

“I—I’m fine,” Harry said blankly, moving a bit of hair from his eyes to get a better look at his two friends.

Hermione frowned, her bushy frizzy hair everywhere as usual. She and Ron were sitting on the small bed Harry occupied while staying at Number Four Privet Drive. Both of his friends decided to come spend the month with Harry until his birthday at the Muggle setting, knowing that the powerful magic that had been put upon the house to protect Harry from harm would be gone once he became seventeen.

Everyone had been unsure of where to go or what to do after the disturbing and gruesome murder of their headmaster Albus Dumbledore. However, Harry decided that he needed to finish Dumbledore’s work and he knew that he had to go back to Privet Drive in order to think clearly and buy himself some time to strategize during the war they were all involved in.

Despite his desire to find a way to think clearly, Harry had been completely incapable of doing that the entire three weeks he and his friends had essentially taken over Privet Drive (much to the fright and disgruntlement from the Dursleys). He spent much of his time thinking about the murder of his trusted and loved headmaster and protector; he could not help constantly thinking of the burden that was laid upon his shoulders with the war and the desperate need to find the rest of the Horcruxes that he and Dumbledore had sought out before his death. Harry knew without finding the magical Horcruxes, he would be unable to defeat his greatest enemy, Lord Voldemort and Harry had no greater priority than to do just that and end the war in the wizarding world.

Harry’s tiny bedroom had become somewhat of a haven for the two wizards and one witch. Ron’s parents did not want him to leave their family once he came back from Hogwarts but Ron refused, point blank, to stay at the Burrow and leave Harry on his own. Ron had managed to get away from his family despite their wishes also because he had already turned seventeen and become an adult in the wizarding world and was therefore free to make any choice he wanted on his own. Hermione had come along as well, wanting to be by her friend’s side. The two friends brought with them their trunks from Hogwarts and had managed to find a way to store them in Harry’s room; however it left very little space for anyone to move about.

All three managed to find a place to sleep in the miniscule room. Harry had wanted extra space for his two friends but he knew the Dursleys would never give it to him. Harry decided to make a camp for himself on the space left in his bedroom floor while Ron and Hermione shared Harry’s bed (and this wasn’t a problem due to the fact that the pair began dating toward the end of their sixth and last school year at Hogwarts). No one really seemed to mind the cramped and inconvenient conditions ironically, except for the Dursleys who could be heard constantly grumbling and complaining about the unwanted presence of two other magical people living under their roof without their permission. But Harry did not care what the Dursleys wanted; he knew he, Ron and Hermione would have to leave within less than a week’s time due to his upcoming birthday.

Harry heaved a sigh and looked away from the gazes of his friends and stared back outside at the dim lights shining down on the pavement from the street lamps.

“You sure you’re alright, mate?” Ron asked Harry quietly.

Harry nodded wordlessly. His friends did not ask him anything else but left it at that and soon silence filled the tiny room. It hadn’t even been five minutes that the lot had stopped talking altogether when a sharp knock made all of them look over at Harry’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” Harry croaked, his throat hurting.

The door cracked open a fraction only for Harry’s Aunt’s thin boney face to poke through. Aunt Petunia stared over at Harry and for a moment at Ron and Hermione and her lips pursed shut, delving them of color. She obviously disapproved greatly not only of their living in her home but of Ron and Hermione sitting so closely on the same bed. Her dark eyes bore into all of their faces before she announced stiffly that they could come eat if they wished. After they all thanked her glumly, she shut the door silently behind her and walked off.

“I’m not hungry,” Ron said, surprising Harry, as Ron was always hungry.

“Well I’m going to grab something and bring it back up here,” Hermione said, standing up from near Ron and unsuccessfully trying to flatten her hair. “Harry do you want anything?”

“No, thank you,” Harry muttered, looking back outside the window.

Harry did not hear Hermione say another word as he heard her footsteps inching toward the door in the small space they had. When the door opened and closed again, Ron heaved a gigantic sigh.

“Do you know where we’re going to go after your birthday?” Ron asked Harry suddenly. “I mean, we can’t stay here after the magic wears off…”

Harry looked over at his friend, his eyebrows slightly raised. He had not thought about Ron’s question at all in depth, but he began to think of ideas at that moment.

“Well…are Fleur and Bill still getting married?” Harry asked Ron, scooting over from the windowsill to get a better look at his friend.

Ron shrugged, his vivid red hair shining in the dim light of Harry’s lamp.

“I don’t think it will be anytime soon with Bill having been injured and everything. Mum doesn’t seem to keen on it being so soon, I reckon she wants the two to wait a little longer…Maybe it’ll be in a month or so,” Ron finished, sounding quite unsure.

“Oh,” Harry said blandly. He paused for a moment and then said, “Well…if they aren’t going to get married any time soon, why don’t we head over to the Order Headquarters? It’s technically my property now since I inherited it from…from Sirius…” Harry faltered for a moment but forced himself to stop thinking about his deceased godfather. “I mean, it’s really safe I suppose. No one knows about it except us and the members of the Order. We could kip out there until we manage to find the rest of the—”

“Horcruxes,” Hermione finished from the doorway.

Harry had not been aware she even walked back into the room. She was holding a steaming plate of chicken and vegetables and a glass of juice.

“Yeah…Horcruxes,” Harry said slowly.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Ron said, scooting over so that Hermione could find some place to sit comfortably. When she did, she immediately began to eat. She looked very tired and worn out, and it was then Harry realized she had premature age lines in her face.

He looked away.

“I guess it’s a good idea,” Harry said. “But Ron, you should probably tell your mum and dad—”

Ron snorted.

“They’ll just want to come along and move into the Headquarters with us,” Ron said, sounding annoyed and agitated at the idea.

“What’s wrong with them wanting to move in?” Hermione asked after swallowing a spoonful of chicken.

Ron frowned. “Well first off, Harry hasn’t told anyone else about the Horcruxes except for you and me, right?”

“Right,” Harry said.

“And secondly, how are we going to explain what we’re doing to my mum and dad? Mum will go mad and keep me indoors all the time like she did to Ginny and we won’t be able to get anything done.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to have an adult around though,” Hermione said, disapprovingly.

“Hermione, we do have an adult around,” Harry replied, inclining his head over to where Ron was.

Ron took a moment before he realized Harry was gesturing to him.

“Oh…right, I’m seventeen,” Ron said, sounding amused at himself. He turned to his girlfriend and asked, “Or am I not adult enough for you Hermione?”

He was grinning but Hermione pursed her lips together quite like Harry’s aunt had done previously.

“No, I just meant someone a bit older that’s all,” Hermione said to Ron.

“So I suppose it’s settled then?” Harry asked the two. They nodded. “Well, at least we’ve gotten one thing done while we’ve been here,” Harry added more to himself if anything.

Hermione took a sip of her juice.

“Harry could you come to the bed?” she asked him suddenly.

“What?” Harry asked.

“It’s just my leg is fallen asleep and I want to try to walk it off,” she explained. Harry realized she did look as if something had been bothering her. Harry nodded and shuffled over to the bed, as Hermione grabbed her plate and things and put them down on Harry’s desk.

“Good luck walking anywhere,” Ron said sarcastically, looking over at the almost nonexistent space Hermione had to attempt to “walk off” her leg pains.

She frowned but stubbornly tried to walk around, shaking her right leg every now and then. Harry watched her, knowing what she was doing was completely pointless and she should probably go walk it off in the hallway outside…

Suddenly Hermione let out a sharp gasp as if something had caused her immense pain and fright.

Harry and Ron stood up from the bed immediately.

“What happened?” they asked in unison, traces of panic in their voices.

Hermione was leaning over the windowsill that Harry had been seated on moments before, her pale face pressed against the glass as if she was trying very hard to see something that was happening down on the pavement. She had a look of shock and slight fear as she looked down, her dark eyes following something that neither Harry nor Ron could see yet. They both scrambled over to the window without trying to knock each other over in the process and attempted to make space for themselves to get a look at what Hermione was so transfixed at.

Harry could see nothing except the darkness outside with all the fumbling that had gone on but he heard Hermione’s shocked whisper of, “It can’t be…”

“It can’t be what?” Harry asked her, almost shouting.

Ron was staring at his girlfriend, his face paler than usual.

Hermione looked up slowly at Harry, still in shock at whatever she had just seen.

“Harry—I don’t know how or why he’s here but—” she started, everything coming out in a jumble of words that made no sense at all to Harry or Ron.

“Who’s ‘he’?” Harry asked, trying desperately to get an answer.

“It’s D—” Hermione started, her eyes wide but she stopped suddenly, her voice strangled within her throat at the sound of the doorbell going off downstairs.

All three friends stared at each other for a split second before Harry jumped over his bed and various objects littering his floor in order to get to his bedroom door. He snatched up his wand from his nightstand and heard Ron and Hermione do the same. He felt his two friends behind him as he wrenched his door open and burst out into the silent hallway.

The doorbell rang again as Harry raced down the stairs, almost falling twice but catching himself mid-fall. He could hear Ron and Hermione’s rushing footsteps behind him. Each person had drawn out their wand and was clutching it tightly. Once he reached the landing the doorbell rang again and behind him he heard the kitchen door swing open, his Uncle Vernon coming outside, wearing a napkin around his neck, looking angry and sullen at being disturbed in the middle of his dinner.

“What the ruddy hell are you doing boy?” Vernon screamed at Harry from the end of the hall as Harry came crashing down into the wall in front of him.

Harry did not answer as he grabbed the doorknob and pulled the front door open. Harry gasped and stared at the person outside, not expecting at all to see the blonde haired young man standing feebly and completely broken at the doorway.

Draco Malfoy was indeed standing outside of Number Four Privet Drive.

His pale skin was tinged gray and green and he had a dark purple bruise on his left eye. Malfoy’s hair was not in its usual sleek condition but to Harry’s horror, matted and caked in what looked like blood residue and mud. The blonde’s bottom lip was cut deeply and looked as if it was beginning to become infected and his white oxford shirt was torn in half violently. His entire left arm was soaked in blood making the sleeve crimson. The young man’s chest looked at if it had been cut as if someone had been attempting to do harm further to Draco. Harry looked down and realized Draco was missing a shoe and that his right foot looked as if he had gashed it badly. Draco stood swaying and shaking in front of Harry.

“Please…” he whispered his voice barely audible. “Please…help me…”

Suddenly Draco fell forward and Harry ran to catch him, the blonde’s full weight falling into his arms. Harry hoisted him up as Ron came running out into the cool night and helped Harry bring the injured young man inside. Ron shut the door behind him and locked it, staring down at Draco in fright and pure disbelief.

“What the hell—” Ron muttered, his eyes wide.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?” Vernon Dursley screamed at them all, not fully catching sight of the bloody and dying Malfoy in Harry and Ron’s arms.

“Get back to the kitchen,” Harry croaked, trying to be calm but panic was flooding his brain. He had absolutely no idea what to do…he never in his wildest dreams expected anything like this to happen…

Harry’s uncle, however, did not go back to the kitchen. Instead he stayed out in the hallway stubbornly, complaining louder and louder, screaming madly at the people in his hall. Harry opened his mouth to shout some things back at him but he was cut off.

“GO BACK TO THE KITCHEN!” Hermione screamed to Vernon from the bottom of the stairwell, sounding both aggravated and frightened.

Harry and Ron looked at her in momentary shock as Dursely yelled violently before stomping back into the kitchen as he was told.

“Thank you,” Harry gasped to her as Draco’s body almost slipped from his grip. Harry and Ron hoisted the blonde up again.

“C’mon,” Harry said, jutting his head toward the room next to him. “We need to get him in the living room.”

Ron did not say a word as the two young men carried Draco Malfoy into the neat and spotless living room of the Dursley family. Harry and Ron slowly turned Draco around onto his back before placing him gently onto the largest immaculate sofa in the room. Hermione walked in slowly, closing the door behind her. Each one of them stared at Draco.

“Oh my God,” Hermione gasped, her hands clapping over her mouth. She looked away from the sight, her eyes watering immensely.

Harry swore while Ron did nothing but stared.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Ron croaked suddenly, looking down at Draco’s bleeding chest and fresh wounds.

No one could manage to say anything for a moment.

Suddenly however, Hermione spoke up, her voice a bare whisper. She sounded completely frightened out of her mind and was shaking profusely as she spoke.

“H-Harry…What if it was the D-Death Eaters?” she gasped.

Ron stared at her, and jumped away from Malfoy as though he had been burned.

“Why the hell would it be Death Eaters?” Ron yelled, panicking. “He is one of THEM! Shit—SHIT—this could be a trap; did any of you realize that? THIS COULD BE A—”

“He…he isn’t a Death Eater anymore,” Harry whispered, shutting his eyes tightly.

Harry had gone over to Draco and lifted up the remainder of Draco’s left sleeve, the bloodiest one, while Ron had been yelling. When he lifted it up he wished he hadn’t because he felt a nausea arise so deep in him he was afraid he would vomit all over the living room and faint. Where Draco’s Death Eater tattoo had once been had been sliced off in the most grotesque and violent manner, leaving nothing but raw flesh and blood behind. Harry slowly put the pure red sleeve back down.

“What the hell do you mean he’s not a Death Eater anymore?” Ron snarled, not having seen what Harry just witnessed.

“They cut it off,” Harry whispered, stepping away from Draco, his eyes still shut tightly.

“Cut what—?” Ron snapped back.

“They sliced the Dark Mark off his skin,” Harry hissed through clenched teeth, his green eyes snapping open and staring directly at his friend.

Ron immediately froze.

“No—” Ron choked looking horrified and as green as Draco.

“Yes,” Harry snarled back. “And we need to get the hell out of here right now. I’m sure the rest of them are going to come after Malfoy and try to finish what they started and as much as I hate them, I can’t have my uncle, aunt or cousin getting hurt—”

“Where are we going to go?” Hermione asked, sobbing.

“Headquarters,” Harry said looking directly at his crying friend. “And quickly. If we don’t Apparate there soon I don’t think Malfoy’s going to make it…”

“Should we leave our things here?” Ron asked. “We could get to Headquarters faster—”

“No,” Harry said. “We won’t be coming back here after tonight. Grab your trunks and bring them downstairs as soon as possible…”

When no one moved Harry screamed, “GO!” and both Ron and Hermione sprinted out of the living room and up the stairs in a blur.

Harry could not bear to look at Malfoy so he walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, where his Aunt and Uncle were seated at the dining room table, neither of them touching their food. Dudley Dursely was sitting in front of the television, staring at pointless and idiotic cartoons going on in front of him. Harry could not believe anything else could be happening in the world after what he had just seen…

“So,” Vernon Dursely hissed, his tiny watery eyes becoming, if possible, even tinier. “Who was at the door? Another one of your magic pals? Coming to spend the summer here too?”

Harry did not say anything but Vernon continued.

“Let me tell you something, boy. I don’t care what that buffoon told us last summer about you having to stay here until you turn seventeen,” Vernon spat, speaking of Dumbledore. “I don’t want any more of your stupid ass friends here—”

Harry did not hear what else his uncle said as hatred rose powerfully inside him but Harry suppressed it with great effort.

“I’m leaving,” Harry said, his voice cracking painfully.

Vernon stopped mid-sentence, his Aunt stared at him in surprise and even Dudley turned away from his television to look over at Harry in surprise.

“Leaving?” Vernon repeated.

“Leaving,” Harry said blankly. “So…er, thank you for the house room. I suppose I won’t ever see you lot again.”

He did not give anyone time to respond as he turned around on his heel and walked out of the kitchen and quickly back over to the bloody Draco. Ron and Hermione had made it back into the living room, their trunks with them as well as Harry’s. Harry bent over Malfoy for a moment and checked that he was still breathing but he began to panic a bit more when he noticed Draco’s breath was very weak and slightly forced.

“Do you guys have everything?” Harry asked them.

Ron and Hermione nodded.

“Alright then,” Harry said, staring at the trunks. “Hermione I’m going to need you to Apparate with all the trunks because Ron and I need to take Malfoy. Can you do that?”

Hermione nodded silently, walking over and standing next to the pile of three trunks that almost exceeded her height. Ron came over to Harry and put his wand in his back jean pocket.

“Ron, let’s lift him,” Harry told the red head.

Ron took Draco’s bloody, gashed, white feet gently while Harry slowly and cautiously picked Draco up from his shoulders, supporting his head so his neck would not snap back. Both young men moved out into the middle of the living room, standing near the trunks and Hermione.

“On the count of three, we all need to concentrate on getting right next to the Headquarters building, alright? Don’t think about anything else…we—we need to get there in one shot,” Harry said, his voice and body shaking at the thought of what they were about to do.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” Ron and Hermione whispered.

Harry shut his eyes, as he began to count down, his heart beating rapidly against his chest, causing pains throughout his ribcage. Harry could feel the cold, icy sweat pouring from his hairline down his pale face and cheeks. And his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

“One…two…three!”

And suddenly, Harry felt the familiar tightening sensation that was Apparation. He could feel his body moving toward the destination that his mind was so focused on. He hoped that Ron and Hermione were concentrating as hard as he was. He could feel Draco’s body squeezing along with them as Harry tightened his hold onto Draco’s shoulders to try to stop his trembling.

And as they continued to go along, bodies hurting more and more as they got there, Harry could only pray that every single one of them would get there and in piece and be able to save Draco Malfoy.

TBC.
Please R&R thanks!