Harry Potter and the Destiny of Prophecies - 12. Chapter 12

Normal

Oh yes, that dratted word: Normal.

Not a word that Harry Potter ever thought he’d attribute to himself, but the past few months of life as the husband of Draco Potter-Malfoy made Harry rethink his definition of normal. Lately, what his life was like now was ‘normal’ and would be ‘normal’ for well over a century and half.

At least once each day, he found himself remembering an event in his fifth year with longing.

Yes, his fifth year.

Fred and George, declaring that they had outgrown full-time school and flying off into the sunset on their brooms was a treasured memory for Harry, as his last year of school continued. Each time he remembered that event, he got a dreamy, wistful smile on his face and wondered what it would be like for Draco and him to imitate that flight. He even remarked once that he wished that Umbridge would come back to the school to give him a chance.

Headmistress McGonagall, who had been in the room at the time he voiced that, gave him his first detention in two years. Filch had been literally glowing with glee as he watched Harry polish every trophy in the Trophy room, carefully pointing out any spot that he missed. Harry spent the time wondering if this qualified as an event worthy of ‘doing a Weasley’ as the third-years so commonly referred to the twin’s departure.

Still, on this particularly chilly March night, Harry was just sitting in front of the fire, writing a response to a request from the International Confederation of Wizards for information on the portkey used by Voldemort last June. He finished his response, which basically said to read the attached essay, attached a copy of the essay (by a seventh-year Ravenclaw who had used it for her Charming Magical Objects thesis), and prepared it for mailing. Jeremy would handle it in the morning with all of the other mail. Draco was just finishing up reading a report for the Ministry of Magic’s Death Eater Rehabilitation committee. Harry could tell from his long sighs and frequent scratching of a quill that he’d be a long time in writing a reply.

Instead of the wild session in bed that he wanted, Harry picked up the next batch of essays from his second-year DADA students and began reading their thoughts on what spells, herbs, animals, or potions would help a wizard or witch defend themselves against vampires. After the fifth essay, and third sarcastic note that ‘Harry Malfoy-Potter will not comply with a magical summons from a former student who should be able to defend themselves’, he was ready to give up and pull his blond-haired husband into bed whether he had finished writing his response to the Ministry or still had ten pages to go.

‘I wonder if this is how the rest of my life will be?’ Harry wondered to himself as he looked over at his husband. He was seventeen years old now, and he felt like his life was almost in an eerie dream state.

Every morning he woke up and had a private breakfast in the outer room of their suite here at Hogwarts. Draco would sit next to him and Pansy and Jeremy would sit across from them. Over breakfast they’d review the day’s schedule, important correspondences that their two aides had received the day before, and discuss the handling of various private affairs concerning their estates. Then three days a week Harry had DADA classes to teach. Two mornings a week he spent time at the Ministry of Magic, in his very own office (with a magic window). Lunch was usually at the Ministry those days, followed by afternoon classes where he was still the student. Late afternoons were usually occupied by studying in the library. Dinner was in the Great Hall (usually but not always) and he usually sat with his Gryffindor classmates (those that were still there at least). He hardly ever got to see them anymore. Of the boys in his year, only Seamus Finnegan was still at Hogwarts, and Hermione spent most evenings with her son, Neville Franklin Longbottom. Lavender Brown was still there, as was Parvati and the other two girls. Most of the sixth year Gryffindors were intact so they formed the new ‘leadership’ of his House, and he always felt like an outsider with them.

Then there were the long hours each night where he would sit with Draco, and occasionally other people, looking over report after report, requests for information that required his personal attention, and of course grading assignments for his classes, and finishing assignments for his other classes. He felt like he was on the cusp of something, one foot in the world of being a child, and one foot being in the world of adults.

They had over twelve registered, and four hidden (unregistered), portkeys in their rooms. The long walks, or even carriage rides to Hogsmeade had become too cumbersome, so they could now portkey to just about anywhere they needed to get to these days. Weekends were usually spent with Hermione in their Hogsmeade flat, spoiling little Neville to death. The governess they’d finally chosen was actually none other than Katie Belle, a Gryffindor who had graduated last year and who had a baby a month before Hermione. The father of Katie Bell’s child had been killed by Voldemort during the fighting at Kings Cross Station, and she had been very grateful for the position. Having known both Hermione and Harry, she fit easily into the five bedroom flat they’d chosen. Her son, Kenneth (named after his father), was absolutely gorgeous. Both Harry and Draco found themselves spoiling both boys each and every weekend (so much so that Hermione and Katie threatened to hex them if they bought another toy before summer).

“Out with it, Potter.” Draco’s voice startled Harry a bit. He bit his lower lip as he looked up to see Draco looking at him with concern. He only used Harry’s original last name when he was annoyed, teasing, or worried.

“Er…” Harry began before clearing his throat.

“English, Potter. Use proper English.” Draco teased, a hint of a smirk appearing on his face. As always, the teasing relaxed him.

“I feel…” Harry tried to explain, but couldn’t find the word to describe how he was feeling.

“Discombobulated?” Draco supplied. “Tense? Anxious? Unnerved? Unsettled? Confused?”

“Um, yeah.” Harry agreed.

“Which is it, Potter?” Draco asked him, his smirk now full blown. “I know they are all big words but you’re smart enough. Especially since most of them are only one or two syllables.”

“How the hell do you do that?” Harry demanded as he broke into laughter.

“I’m a Malfoy.” Draco drawled smoothly. “Words are my tools.”

“I needed that laugh.” Harry said when he calmed down.

“I figured that.” Draco said, still in that drawl, but with a smirk that was filled with self-satisfaction. “No one has tried to kill you or even hex you in the last two months. Well, not including the time that you entered Hermione’s room right after she finished pushing out the newest Longbottom boy, but then that doesn’t really count. I knew I was always right about you. You’re only happy when the world’s about to come to an end and only you can save the damn thing.”

“So, are you going to start an evil plot to take over the world just so I can be a hero again?” Harry asked him, a smile on his face.

“Um, give me a few days to think of something.” Draco said with a genuine smile.

“Good.” Harry replied. “I’m getting sick and tired of paperwork.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Draco moaned, still smiling. “Since you decided we’ll be running things, paperwork is our destiny.”

“Sure, blame it all on me.” Harry said with a groan.

“If you insist.” Draco agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. He looked down at his own paperwork and let out a long sigh. He put the paperwork onto the table, leaned back on the couch he was sitting on, crossed his legs and raised his eyebrows at Harry. “Forget this crap, I need some loving. Care to supply?”

“Oh yeah.” Harry agreed, getting up without touching the scrolls sitting in his lap. They fell to the floor as he sat down in Draco’s lap, faced his husband, and started kissing him.

“Harry Potter, sir! Master Draco, sir!” Dobby’s voice caused them both to groan aloud since it came at the same time as the pop announcing Dobby’s appearance in their chambers.

“Yes, Dobby, what is it?” Harry said in a most exasperated voice.

“The Headmistress has asked me to tell you to come to her office right now. You is needed!” The house elf said, and Harry closed his eyes briefly.

“Merlin’s Beard, you damn Gryffindor.” Draco muttered. “Can’t you wait to save the world at least until you’ve serviced your husband?”

“Shut up you greedy Slytherin.” Harry muttered, giving Draco a kiss before standing. “C’mon, let’s go find out what we’re saving the world from this time.”

“We?” Draco muttered, accepting Harry’s hand to help him off the couch. “This time we ask them how much we get paid before we say yes. I’m sick of doing this for free.”

“You can ask if you want.” Harry muttered as they grabbed their cloaks and headed out the door. “Just leave me out of the whole thing.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

‘So, this is what Voldemort had planned all along.’ Harry thought to himself an hour later. They were in Paris, France, at an emergency meeting of the International Federation of Wizards, and the news they were hearing was not good news.

“After putting the appropriate Muggle government leaders under Imperius, they successfully passed initiatives that effectively separated the magical governments of Russia, Estonia, Latvia, Ukraine, and eight other countries from their Muggle counterparts. They also set up laws that allow wizards to cast any spell they want on muggles without it being declared a crime.” Harry sat there, stunned by the scope of what was happening as the aged wizard Mark Tellerby (the current chair of the Federation) spoke.

“What exactly happened in Greece?” Minerva McGonagall asked the wizard sharply.

“The Greek Department of Magic was raided by over three hundred Death Eaters.” Mark replied, his voice sharing his sense of awe at the direct assault. “They managed to take down every law enforcement official in the office at the time, as well as a good number of their Directors. They’ve all been replaced with Death Eater members or supporters of Greek heritage.”

“Ve have received ultimatums also.” The German Chancellor of Magic told the assembled wizards in heavily accented English. “Two veeks to pass a list of laws they haf sent.”

“Voldemort has never acted this openly before.” McGonagall said in a stunned voice.

“He has never had such a base of support, either.” The Italian Minister of Magic replied softly. “The wizarding communities of Eastern Europe are not as opposed to his message as Great Britain is, or even was during his first rise to power.”

“What will his next move be?” The French Minister of Magic asked quietly, and all eyes turned to Harry, who shifted nervously in his seat.

“Consolidate.” Draco said from where he sat next to Harry. Orrin Milieu, the British Minister of Magic nodded his head as Draco continued. “He’ll consolidate the smaller countries not yet under his control and then he’ll move against the larger governments like Italy, Spain, France, and Germany.”

“The list of demands to Germany is a test.” Harry added. “He wants to see if you’ll comply. If you do, the other countries will see similar lists with demands, and he won’t need to move against you.”

“We understand that very well, young man.” The Spanish Minister of Magic said scathingly. “We have seen this before, not more than sixty years ago, among the Muggles.”

“Word is spreading that the wizarding governments, such as they are, from Croatia, Bosnia, and Serbia are considering joining this ‘Alliance of European Wizards’ as he is calling his new regime.” A soft-spoken witch from Northern Italy, the Headmistress of the Italian school of Magic said softly. “Many of my students from that region are receiving owls telling them to prepare to journey home.”

“We need to find where he is and send a joint force of our magical police there and kill him immediately!” The French Minister said angrily. “Before he tears this continent apart.”

“Can you find him through your scar, Harry?” Orrin Milieu asked, his voice carrying through the chamber.

“No.” Harry told the man in all honesty. “He has recovered enough of his strength that he is able to keep me blocked completely, although he is far too weak to break through my own barriers.”

“You should have killed him when you had the chance!” The French Minister yelled at Harry. “Now we will find him and kill him ourselves!”

“Bon chance.” Draco said nonchalantly, glaring at the Frenchman.

“What do you mean?” Mark Tellerby asked quickly.

“I was just wishing the man good luck.” Draco drawled.

“No, you meant something by that!” Telleby roared with a slap of the table. “You are both part of this organization because of your experience with him. If you know something that you have not shared with us before, now is the time.”

“It is a prophecy.” McGonagall said quietly. “Spoken almost twenty years ago, and verified as a true prophecy. Harry Potter will either kill, or be killed, by Voldemort. No other is able to kill either of them.”

“Then he will be part of the army we send!” The French Minister said forcefully. “This time you will kill him, boy.”

“Mr. Potter is nowhere near trained enough to survive a magical duel with him.” McGonagall retorted calmly. “He is being prepared as quickly as can be for that day, but Voldemort has had over sixty years to perfect his magic.”

“He almost beat him with that Sword he had.” The Italian Minister pointed out. “Find another magical sword and give it to him.”

“When the time comes, I will be ready, and I will kill him.” Harry said in a quiet, but forceful tone. “That time has not yet come. Yes, a war is on the horizon, but it is not here yet. When it does arrive, I and the rest of the wizarding world must be ready. He will not move against the stronger Ministries, those here tonight especially. We must prepare ways to repel any such attacks he might pose until the day comes that he declares open warfare.”

“What do you mean?” The Spanish Minister asked, leaning forward in his chair and staring hard at Harry.

“Er…alarms must be charmed at each Ministry, so that if anyone attacks, the other Ministries can respond and send reinforcements to help them fight off his forces.”

“What if he’s there himself?” The French Minister asked. “If none of us can kill him, he can walk in there and kill us all himself!”

“If he shows up, I can be summoned there myself.” Harry said confidently. “He’s not ready to face me, and I doubt that he’ll want a confrontation anytime soon, so he will retreat.”

“If he’s so scared of you…” The French Minister started to say, but Harry cut him off.

“Him simply retreating is not a complete victory for us.” Harry’s voice was very forceful now. “He won’t fight with me unless he thinks he will win or we can trap him. If we have a superior force, he’ll simply retreat instead of facing me. The prophecy doesn’t mean that I can’t be stunned, tied to an altar and have him cut my heart out. Same goes for him being incapacitated. It’s doesn’t say that we’re meant to fight each other in a wizard’s duel either. There are so many ways either of us could kill the other that we don’t know which it will be in the end. What we need to do is to develop a plan to capture him and then I can kill him. We also need a plan to take out his followers so that none of them are able to take his place.”

“All valid points, Mr. Potter.” Orrin Milieu. “The hour is late now, and most of us are tired. I suggest that we meet again soon to begin to draw up such plans, and to organize a united effort if any of our Ministries are attacked.”

“I agree.” The American chair said softly. “Any objections?”

There were none, and the four British representatives rose quickly, heading for the portkey locations before any of the others could intercept them. Milieu whispered that they should meet as a group later in the morning, and McGonagall nodded her agreement. Harry and Draco’s portkey took them directly back to their room at Hogwarts, where they immediately sat on one of the couches, absolutely exhausted, but clinging to each other fiercely.

“Merlin, Potter.” Draco whispered softly as they sat there, gripping each other. “He might really pull this off.”

“No, he won’t.” Harry replied just as softly. “He hasn’t taken any country with a really strong magical heritage and strong government. He’s only picked up the weak ones. He’ll be spending a lot of time training them, consolidating his hold on them. By the time he’s done that and is ready to move, we’ll be ready to take him out.”

“What about his followers?” Draco asked softly.

“We’ll be ready for them, too, won’t we?” Harry answered him.

“I’ll start going over our list of people and figuring out who would be best to send after he’s gone.” Draco said softly.

“We need Hermione bound by the Oath soon.” Harry added. “We might as well add some of the parents at the same time. I think a few of them would be among those we want to send.”

“The Bulstrodes definitely.” Draco supplied. “Probably the Crabbes and Goyles as well. The Zabinis would be extremely helpful also.”

“That should be a good enough group.” Harry said, feeling another wave of exhaustion creep over him. “Easter break?”

“Sounds good.” Draco agreed. “The Ministry is more protecting than watching them now, so that’s no longer a concern. I think it’ll work.”

“Bedtime.” Harry said softly. Draco didn’t say anything, but his slow effort of standing spoke his agreement. Luckily, neither of them had an early class to teach right after breakfast, so they would have time to sleep in a little.

They needed every minute they could get at that point.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“We have been assured that you both could pass your remaining N.E.W.T. with at least an ‘A’ in each course.” Orrin Milieu’s voice held a tinge of sympathy, but it was still stern, brooking no argument. “You can either take them when they are given to your classmates or a special testing will be arranged as we did over the summer.”

“But we’ve…” Harry knew it would be useless, but he had to try to argue out of this.

“Frankly, you’ve had two-thirds more of a year at Hogwarts than you really should have.” Milieu’s voice was void of sympathy now. “I know you are both young, and quite frankly I would prefer not to have to do this to either of you. However, neither of you have had anything resembling a normal childhood and you both have the maturity of people a decade older than you. We can’t let that go to waste at Hogwarts. You have enough points right now to graduate, and you’ll attend the Leaving Feast along with the rest of your classmates. It’s not like you’ve spent any real time at Hogwarts in the last week anyway.”

His words were deadly accurate. Since that emergency meeting of the International Federation of Wizards, they’d spent more time at the Ministry, in France, and even on a trip to America, than they had at Hogwarts. McGonagall had even warned them what this meeting was about, and told them she’d argued for six hours with the Minister about this.

“You can’t just force us to work for the Ministry.” Draco stated firmly.

“I can give both of you a choice.” Milieu stated very, very firmly. “I will put every single former Death Eater on trial for crimes and have them shipped off to Azkaban. Or you can work for the Ministry.”

“Why would you make that threat?” Harry demanded sharply.

“Simple, really.” Milieu replied calmly. “There was a riot yesterday in Diagon Alley. Everyone’s upset about what is happening in Europe and they want to see something done about it. I can either give them a front page article about how Harry Malfoy-Potter and Draco Potter-Malfoy have chosen to work full time with the Ministry to meet this threat, or put up some Death Eaters on trial in order to make people feel safer. Not much else will satisfy them.”

“So what exactly will we be doing?” Draco asked as Harry let out a sigh of defeat.

“You, Draco, will be working with the Department of International Magical Cooperation and coordinating with the International Federation of Wizards against the increased Death Eater raids. Your father and certain other former Death Eaters who have proven themselves somewhat reliable, are being brought in to help our allies respond more effectively. You’ll be the liaison between the Law Enforcement staff and our ‘advisors’, and help evaluate the information received. I don’t need to tell you abut the distrust there is between these groups, so you’ll be used a lot as a go-between.”

“I think I can handle that.” Draco said with a short nod of his head. The Minister returned the nod and looked at Harry before speaking.

“Mr. Potter, you are going to have a little more difficult job.”

“Let’s hear it.” Harry said with a sigh.

“You, Mr. Potter, are going to be the liaison between the International Federation of Wizards and the Muggle Governments.”

“Why don’t the Ministers interact with their counterparts in their own Muggle governments?” Harry asked quietly.

“The Muggle governments are really scared right now.” Minister Milieu said in a very blunt manner. “Many of their counterparts in the countries where Voldemort’s forces have taken hold were put under Imperius, fell sick, or are dead. They seemed especially frightened with the recent changes in the Russian government. They worry about Voldemort gaining control of their armies and starting Muggle wars.”

“Shades of Grindelwald.” Harry muttered, and the Minister of Magic nodded gravely.

“Precisely.” Minister Milieu said after several seconds of silence. “You will be my direct liaison to the British Prime Minister, and as necessary a liaison between the International Confederation and the Prime Ministers of the various countries. There’s a meeting of some organization they have like the Confederation next week. You’ll attend that meeting. You’ll also assist the Auror team I’m sending over to set up wards at the Prime Minister’s residence. We’re warding the residences of all the Prime Ministers, but he’s insisted that you be a part of setting them up at his own residence.”

“Is that all?” Draco asked.

“No. We’ve moved your offices here down to the fifth floor and assigned both of you a secretary. She’ll handle all your Ministry related appointments, calendars, and mail. I know you both have personal assistants at Hogwarts. You can have them contact your secretary to make whatever arrangements they need to make. I assume you’ll be using your London residence?”

“Yes.” Draco and Harry both said at the same time.

“Good, good. Now, if neither of you have any more questions, I’ll have Leona show you to your new offices.” The Minister said with a sly smile. Harry and Draco stood, shaking his hand before heading out. One of the Minister’s secretaries stood, and they followed the witch to their new offices.

Both of them were happy when they saw the offices. They both had magical windows, private fireplaces connected to the floo network, and were also connected to each other. Their secretary was an even better surprise. Christopher Warrington was one of the older former Slytherin students that had taken part in the Blood Oath, and who had gotten a job in the Ministry. Like Crabbe and Goyle, most students had assumed him to be little more than a big sloth, but he was actually quite intelligent. His presence there meant that they could trust their secretary more than if someone else had been assigned to them.

They flooed the Headmistress as soon as the Minister’s secretary had left. She nodded as they told her the Minister’s news, and informed them that she’d make sure that they were ready for the remaining exams by having their Professors send them reading lists, and she’d let Pansy and Jeremy continue to use their apartment to handle their business. She even agreed to pass on a message to have the two ready for a fire call just after dinner time.

Harry placed another fire call to Black Manor. He gave Kreacher instructions to get their baggage from Hogwarts as well as to get the manor set up for their resumption of residence there. The elf sounded positively elated to have them home full time. Meanwhile, Draco had used the fire in his office to place calls to his father, and to Katie in Hogsmeade. By the time they were done, Chris (as he insisted on being called) came in with their schedules. Since Draco’s office was slightly bigger (to his immense delight), they moved in there to listen to what he had to give them.

The Minister had apparently forgotten that they’d both been scheduled for three hours a day, at least three times a week, to train with senior Aurors. Draco had a lot of meetings scheduled for the rest of the week, as did Harry. Fortunately most were here in the Ministry building, although Harry would be leaving for the Muggle government buildings several times during the week. Their workdays were scheduled to begin shortly after eight in the morning and often carried on well past supper time.

“It should settle down in a few weeks.” Chris said with a grunt after he was done running through their week. “Plus you only have a few events to handle on the weekends. Not like it was at school where you were there everyday and could never get away. You’ll start to understand the difference when you get used to going home at night.”

“But it really won’t end there, will it?” Draco asked, a knowing tone in his voice.

“Not for you two.” Chris said, this time smiling slightly maliciously. “For us minions it’s that way, though.”

“So, how’d you get saddled with us, Chris?” Harry asked congenially.

“I begged for it along with nearly every one else who wasn’t already the personal assistant to an assistant director or higher.” Chris said with a smile. “I won because I was a personal friend of Draco’s at school and could prove my friendship with you two thanks to those invitations you sent me for parties over the summer. They figured you’d be a little happier with someone who was a friendly face than someone you didn’t know.”

“Glad we got you.” Draco said with a smile. Chris beamed at the approval in Draco’s words.

“I also know Jeremy and Pansy.” Chris continued. “We’ll be able to coordinate things just fine even with them still being in school. Jeremy’s a good kid. I’m glad you two hooked him up with a job. I was trying to get old Bishus at Wizards Premier Printing to hire him, but the bloke just couldn’t hire another person without firing someone who already had family connections.”

“You were trying to get him a job?” Draco asked in surprise. “Why?”

“Oh, he’s my second cousin, father’s side.” Chris explained. “He’s a good candidate.”

Those words answered a question Harry had been kicking around with Draco for the last month. Jeremy was the closest to their Inner Circle, besides Hermione, who had not taken the Blood Oath. He was really good at his job, and they both wanted to keep him on their personal staff, but without him having taken the Blood Oath he was becoming even more of a security risk every day. They’d been trying to feel him out about the concept of the Oath, but had not had much time or privacy to do that lately. Chris’ words said that he already had, and that Jeremy would amenable.

“Well, I think that settles everything.” Draco said with a nod at Jeremy’s hidden statement. Jeremy would be initiated at Easter Break, along with Hermione and a few others. “I should get started on those reports I see on the desk.”

“I should do that as well.” Harry said, standing along with Chris and heading back to his own office.

Lunch was with Arthur Weasley, Maggie Lawton, and Archibald Neweather (who had replaced Barty Crouch as head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation). They were in the Ministry’s Executive Dining Room, and Harry had to agree that the food was almost as good as a Hogwarts Feast.

After lunch, Maggie escorted them down to the Auror’s office levels, and showed them the training room where the Aurors practiced. Dawley, and another Auror whom Harry didn’t recognize, were waiting for them. They spent the next two hours practicing some of the more advanced Auror spells.

By six that evening, both of them were exhausted. They’d had meetings with Ministry staffers after their workout with the Aurors, and those were tiresome. Several of the wizards Harry spoke to were quite brainless in his opinion, and more closely resembled Fudge than Milieu.

They were home, in Black Manor, by seven that night. They talked over the different meetings, made some adjustments to their plans based on this sudden change in their situation, and then retired upstairs to the attic to pay a visit to their most special guest. He’d been up there since their wedding, and Harry couldn’t help the wicked smile that his face wore as the pathetic excuse for a human being cowered before them.

“Well, Peter, you seem to be surviving decently up here.” Draco said with a drawl worthy of Lucius himself. Harry noticed the thin pallet that they allowed the man, and equally thin blanket, did little to take the chill off of the night. The attic was clean, but filled with items that would remind Peter Pettigrew constantly of those he had betra yed.

“Harry, please…” Peter wailed as soon as Draco spoke, and then flinched as Harry raised his wand.

“What have I told you about my name?” Harry said sternly, and Pettigrew flinched.

“S...s…sorry Mr. Potter.” Peter Pettigrew stuttered.

“That’s better.” Harry’s voice was cold, as cold as he could make it, and his stomach was churning now, as it always did when he looked at this creature that had once been his parent’s friend. “So, tell us, have you been able to remember anymore information we might find interesting?”

“Nagini.” Peter said slowly.

“Voldemort’s snake. Oh, do stop flinching, Peter. It’s just a name.” Harry’s words were sharp, and Peter Pettigrew flinched again.

“Y…yes. The snake. It died a few weeks back. Someone poisoned a muggle that was to be fed to it, so it died after eating the muggle. He was very upset, even though he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Interesting.” Draco said slowly. “So, do you remember where this occurred?”

“N…no, Mister Malfoy.” Peter said, flinching as Draco frowned at him. Before turning the man over to them after the wedding, Voldemort had practically wiped the man’s memories of the last two years. He still remembered everything else, though, and he remembered more the longer he was here. Not for the first time, though, Harry felt the temptation to use the Cruciatis curse on the man.

“Anything else we should know about?” Harry asked before leaving. The pathetic excuse for a human being shook his head, but then stopped.

“Could I please have a thicker blanket?” Pettigrew asked in a trembling voice.

“NO!” Harry shouted angrily. Figures the slime would ask for something for himself.

“But…James would never have been so cruel.” Pettigrew whined, and something inside Harry snapped. Rage flooded through him, rage like he had never felt before at hearing his father’s name from those lips.

“Crucio!” Harry bellowed, his wand pointing at Pettigrew. Pettigrew stiffened, then gave out a cry of pain as he fell to a fully prone position, limbs jerking as the spell hit him. Unlike the other time he’d used this spell on Bellatrix Lestrange, it didn’t stop after a moment. The rage Harry was feeling seethed for a moment and finally started to lessen the longer Pettigrew shrieked in pain.

The sudden memory of a slap and Draco’s voice filled him, and he looked over at his husband with uncertainty. What he saw though, surprised him. Draco was just standing there, arms folded across his chest and looking at Pettigrew with a slight grin. Harry lifted the spell off Pettigrew, who still shook in the aftereffects and thought of what he should say.

“I warned you, Pettigrew.” Harry’s voice was harsh with unshed tears. “Never mention my parents again.”

With that, Harry turned and left the attic through the trapdoor. Draco followed behind him, carefully shutting the door and casting the warding spells before he turned to look at Harry. Harry was dreading the words Draco would have for him. What he got stunned him.

“The worm deserved what he got.” Draco said simply, looking Harry in the eyes.

“But…but you said…” Harry stuttered.

“Do you feel any wild urges to put me under the curse?” Draco asked.

“No.” Harry said with a soft sigh.

“How about little Neville, or Hermione?”

“No.” Harry said firmly. The mere thought of doing that was revolting.

“Then there’s no problem.” Draco said with a shrug. “You’re not my father. Occasional use of Dark Magic isn’t going to make you into the kind of man he was, and still can be at times. You have a much firmer control of yourself. I’m not worried.”

“Oh.” Harry said, the tears he’d felt threatened with before finally leaked out, and Draco hugged him silently for a few minutes.

“Let’s get some sleep.” Draco said softly when Harry had stopped crying. Harry couldn’t find any disagreement with that, so he followed Draco into their bedroom and was asleep within minutes.