The Scent of Lightning

Chapter Twelve

Hermione opened her eyes slowly. She was lying on a bed in a dark room. Her hands and legs were tied with ropes. There was a nasty smell in the air - like burned rubber. It was hot, too, sweat was dripping down her forehead.

Slowly, the memory of how she had gotten there returned. She had gone home after work and had been waiting anxiously for Ron to come home. Then there had been a knock on the door. She had gone to answer it, thinking Ron had forgotten his key and was too lazy to do an Alohomora, but Geoffrey had been standing there.

"Geoffrey, what a surprise! Come in," she said, opening the door.

'Hello, Hermione," he said, walking inside.

"What's the occasion?"

"My research is finished so I'm heading off tomorrow. I wanted to see you one last time before I left." He smiled. "And give you this." Geoffrey handed her a small wrapped package.

"You didn't have to give me a present," Hermione said, blushing.

"I wanted to. Go on, open it."

Hermione drew back the paper to reveal a small box, inlaid with mother of pearl. On the bottom was a stamped crest depicting two ravens in flight, surrounded by thorns. "It's lovely! It looks like a family heirloom."

"Probably is - I found it in an antique shop. Why don't you open it?"

As she opened the lid something sharp stung her palm. "Ouch! What was..." Then darkness descended.

"Awake, are we?" A lamp clicked on, and Hermione blinked at the sudden brilliance.

Her mouth was dry. Geoffrey was standing in the doorway. It looked like she was in some cheap motel room - she could see the number on the door. "What do you want," she whispered.

"You were the one so anxious to find out what I was researching." He sat down on the bed next to her, and Hermione tried to squirm away. "Now I'm ready to tell you."

"If that's all, then why am I tied up?" Hermione demanded, managing to sound angry instead of frightened.

"Because I also need your help, and once I tell you what I want you to do, I doubt you'll be very cooperative."

The door opened again and a man stepped into the room. He looked familiar, but Hermione couldn't place him.

"You see, your dear old schoolmate here isn't quite up to the challenge," Geoffrey said, and the man scowled.

"Schoolmate? I don't -"

"Don't recognize your dear friend Theodore Nott? That's not very nice of you, Hermione."

So this was Nott's superior then. All those days in the library, meeting for coffee, and she had never guessed. "Ron knows you're up to something," Hermione said to Nott, managing to inject a note of defiance in her voice. She glared at Geoffrey. "He'll figure out that you're the ones who have taken me."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Geoffrey said, smirking. "That foolish husband of yours can't do anything without his great friend, Potter. And Potter isn't much help anymore, is he?"

"How do you know about Harry?" Hermione whispered, dread welling up inside her. Geoffrey just stared at her. "It doesn't matter," she went on in a louder voice. "It doesn't matter if they don't find me because I'll never help you with whatever horrible thing you're planning."

Geoffrey laughed. "Oh, I'm afraid you won't have a choice about that, Hermione." He stood up again and went over to a table in the corner. Hermione craned her neck and managed to see that there was a boiling cauldron sitting there, resting on Hermione's old specialty - bright blue fire in a jar. "Theodore may be relatively weak as a wizard, but he has managed to brew quite a fine potion out of the manticore venom. I'm sure you know all about what that does."

Hermione's heart sank. A liquid version of the Imperious curse. She wouldn't be able to resist. "What are you going to make me do?"

"Open a portal," Geoffrey said. "It's a complicated spell, but one that I think you've studied quite a bit. And anyway, you're a very talented witch, Hermione. You'll have no problem, I'm sure."

She knew, then, but couldn't say it.

Geoffrey smiled at her. "You see, Hermione, I'm afraid I've lied to you about a few things. It's time we were properly introduced." He held out his hand, a mocking smile on his face. "Salazar Slytherin."

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Ron was sitting slumped in a chair when they arrived, head buried in his hands. Harry knelt in front of him. "We'll find her," he said quietly.

Ron looked at him. "What if she's already -"

"Don't," Harry said sharply. "Don't. Show me this box."

"It's there on the table."

Harry picked it up carefully. "Looks like the needle is triggered when the box is opened." He took a look around the apartment. "Here," he bent down, picking up some scraps of bright tissue. "Wrapping paper. Hermione must have known whoever gave it to her - trusted them."

"Let me see that," Draco said. He took the box from Harry and turned it upside down.

"What?"

"Nott. This box belonged to him. That's his family crest on the bottom."

"Of course!" Ron was on his feet. "He knows I'm after him, so he took Hermione."

Harry and Draco exchanged glances. "I don't know, Ron," Harry said slowly. "It will be a lot harder for him to hide with a prisoner. You said it yourself - it's almost impossible to find him in Muggle London - why would he jeopardize that advantage?"

"I don't know!" Ron threw up his hands. "Maybe because he's a murdering lunatic?"

"I'm just trying to reason this out, Ron," Harry began, when Draco interrupted him.

"Wait. Why else would someone want Hermione?"

Ron went red in the face, but Harry saw what Draco meant. "Because she's brilliant."

"Exactly. And who do we know who's going to need a complex and powerful spell performed?"

Harry shivered. "Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" Ron shook his head. "But the box proves that Nott did it."

Draco turned towards him. "And what if they're working together?"

"Working together? But -"

"It makes sense," Draco said. "Slytherin reappears around the end of October. A few weeks later, I get a letter from Nott. Plenty of time for Slytherin to look around and find someone who would be interested in supporting his cause. And the Ives murder -"

"Slytherin did it in his dream," Harry finished, feeling sick. "Drained his magic and then killed him. That's why there weren't any marks of any kind."

Ron nodded slowly. "The same thing must have happened with Nott's girlfriend, Nora. Nott handed both of them over to Slytherin. Performed a spell that would give Slytherin access to them. He didn't need to with Harry because there was already a connection through the scar."

"And that's how Nott knew I was spying on him," Draco added. "He told me he knew because of something you had done, Harry. At first I thought he was just saying it to make me angry."

"But Slytherin could see it in my dreams." Harry's voice was resigned. "He knew everything that was going on because he was in my head." He slammed his fist on the table. "We probably led him right to Brentor and Wayland Smithy."

"Makes more sense than Nott figuring it out," Draco agreed bitterly.

"And now they've got Hermione." Ron's face was pale. "The manticore venom - they'll force her to do whatever they want!"

"We'll stop them," Harry said. "This time we'll stop them."

Ron looked at him, a hopeful light in his face, a light that said he knew Harry had all the answers. "How?"

Harry reached out for his magic and felt a now familiar emptiness. "I don't know," he said slowly, and Ron's face fell.

Then Draco put his hand on his shoulder. "We fight," he said simply. "We'll be there, and we'll fight."

v.v.v.v.v.v.

The sun was going down slowly, a ball of red in a haze of cloud. Harry's feet were getting cold from standing in the wet grass. He looked over his shoulder at the dim outline of the White Horse, pale on the slopes of the hill.

"We'll tackle Nott and Slytherin," Ron said for the fourth time. "And you get Hermione, Harry."

"Right." He looked over at Draco, who was standing a little distance apart. The wind had reddened his cheeks and tangled his hair. Harry watched as Draco whispered a spell to amplify his hearing. Draco felt his gaze and turned to smile at him. Harry smiled back.

The minutes dragged by. Harry was about to suggest that someone conjure up a few chairs when Draco jerked his head up. "I hear a car coming," he said.

They were standing at the base of Dragon Hill near a few large stones - the only cover in the area. They crouched behind them, peering out at the road.

"It's a Muggle taxi," Ron said as the vehicle drew nearer.

"Heading for the village probably," Harry began to say, but fell silent when the taxi stopped on the road, directly in front of them. A figure got out of the back seat, and the taxi drove off.

"Too big for Nott," Ron whispered.

"I think it's Greg," Draco said, sounding surprised.

"Goyle? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," Draco replied and started off across the field towards him.

"Wait!" Harry tried to grab his arm, but Draco slipped by. "Go after that idiot, won't you, Ron?"

A few tense moments passed as Ron and Draco drew near the figure. Harry kept expecting a flash of green light, but nothing happened and soon all three were coming back. It was Goyle.

"What happened to your promise?" Draco was demanding angrily.

Greg shrugged. "Slytherin."

"You should go home," Draco told him.

"I'm staying." Goyle couldn't use magic either, Harry remembered.

"What about our promise?" Harry whispered to Draco, who had subsided, muttering.

"Oh, well, I'm a reformed Slytherin," Draco murmured, and Harry could feel his smile.

"Bring any extra socks?" Ron asked.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Hermione. As the hours passed slowly and there was no sign of Nott or Slytherin, she was all Ron could think about. What if they were wrong and someone else had kidnapped her? What if Slytherin decided he didn't need her and just killed her? Ron gritted his teeth and stared up at the top of the hill.

Slytherin would know they would be there, waiting. They had no plan. Ron's greatest fear was that they would threaten to kill Hermione. What would he do then? If they forced Hermione to open the portal - could he stop her - would he be willing to hurt her to stop Slytherin?

At last a dim light appeared on the top of the hill. Ron glanced at Harry, Draco, and Goyle. "Let's go," he whispered.

He and Draco went first, climbing quickly, then slowing to a crouched crawl as they neared the top of the hill. Ron motioned for the other three to stay back, and crept forward until he could peer over the top.

He saw Hermione. She was facing his direction, but standing very still, her wand held limply in her hand. Nott was behind her, his wand pointed at her back. A few torches were stuck in the ground, giving a flickering illumination. A man was kneeling before Hermione, assembling a golden bridle. With a jolt, Ron recognized him as Geoffrey, the man Hermione had met in the library. What in the world was he doing there? And where was Slytherin? Unless - a trail of goose bumps ran down Ron's spine. Geoffrey must really be Slytherin. That whole time and neither of them had suspected anything. Ron wished he had punched the bastard when he had the chance.

Ducking back down, Ron whispered, "Nott's covering Hermione. Slytherin is getting the bridle ready."

"Have they given her the potion?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "I'm going to crawl around the hill, get behind Nott. Harry, you come with me. Draco, I want you and Goyle to cover Slytherin. But watch out for Hermione, she's standing right in the middle." He took a deep breath. "We'll start counting down from one-hundred. When we reach zero, that will be the signal to attack. Understand?"

The other three nodded. Harry touched Draco on the shoulder briefly, started off into the darkness. "Ninety-nine," Ron said, and followed.

He kept count silently in his head after that. At forty, they reached the place which Ron judged to be behind Nott. He stopped Harry, and they crouched down, waiting. "Five, four, three, two, one, zero," Ron whispered. He and Harry glanced at each other, then Ron leaped up and ran over the top of the hill, Harry right behind him.

"Stupefy!" Ron shouted. The jet of red light shot from his wand towards Nott, hit an invisible barrier, and bounced back. He heard Harry drop to the ground, swearing, as the spell nearly hit him. He could see Draco firing spells across the way - those were bouncing back, too.

Nott turned around. "Oh, hello, Weasley. Potter. And you too, Draco and Goyle," he added, raising his voice. "I can't say I'm glad to see you, but I'm not surprised."

Ron took a step forward. "Let her go!"

Nott pressed his wand into Hermione's neck. "Stop right there, Weasley. Or your Mudblood wife won't like it very much."

"You won't hurt her," Ron said. "You need her to open the portal."

Geoffrey - Slytherin - stood up, the bridle dangling from his hand. "Very true," he said. "But under the Imperio potion she will perform the spell. Even if half the skin is burned off her back."

Ron halted, grinding his teeth.

"That was quite the nasty hex you sent my way," Slytherin added, glancing over at Draco. "Luckily, Hermione set up this lovely shield. It's quite strong, isn't it? Not that I expected any less of her." Slytherin looked up at the sky. "And now I think we'd better set the spell in motion. Hermione, if you will?"

Nott leaned forward and whispered something in Hermione's ear. She raised her wand, pointing it at the circle of stones. Ron started forward again, but Nott looked back at him, dug his wand deeper into Hermione's skin.

Hermione began chanting. The air above the stones shimmered, then swirled madly like the surface of a soap bubble. Ron could see one of the torches through the shimmering air and it looked twisted and bent, the flame a strange green color.

"Very good, Hermione," Slytherin said. He stared at the portal with a hungry look on his face for a few moments, then snapped his attention back towards the direction of White Horse Hill. Unwillingly, Ron felt his own gaze drawn from Hermione and to the direction Slytherin was looking. Harry stood tense and still beside him. Draco and Goyle were two dark shadows across the way.

It was pitch black at first, but then the moon broke from behind the clouds, and a dim radiance shone over the landscape. Ron held his breath and watched as in the distance the White Horse rose from the ground.

It was huge, shining like snow, and seemed to flicker in the wind as it reared up into the sky. Its bones were sharply defined and the legs and nose seemed elongated. Slytherin raised his arms to the sky and shouted. In one hand, he held the shining mass of gold.

The Horse heard and turned towards them. It pawed the air and broke into a gallop. Ron was sure it would crush them all, but as it approached it seemed to dwindle and assume a more solid shape until it was only a little taller than an ordinary horse when it came to a stop in front of Slytherin.

Slytherin approached it slowly, holding the bridle out before him. The Horse snorted and tossed its head, but allowed him to come near. Holding his breath, Ron inched a few steps nearer to Nott. Hermione still held her wand rigidly in her hand, concentrating on holding the portal open.

Ron took two more steps - Slytherin placed the bridle reverently over the Horse's head - and then Nott turned around and looked at him. Nott hissed something, and Hermione shuddered. Ron froze.

Slytherin swung himself up onto the Horse's back. He looked down at them, the light of triumph in his face. "When I return, I will show you wonders the like of which you cannot imagine," he said and kicked the Horse forward, heading for the portal.

Draco suddenly started forward and Nott shouted at him to stop. A green burst flashed across the hill from Nott's wand, and Draco cried out, dropping to the ground. Quickly, Ron moved as well, but Nott spun around, and Ron and Harry dove apart to avoid the spell he shot at them. Slytherin and the Horse were slowly disappearing into the portal.

Ron looked over at Harry from where he was laying on the ground. Harry was flat on his stomach, staring up at Nott, who was looking back and forth from them to Draco and Goyle. Slowly, Harry's hand groped for a rock. He looked over at Ron. Ron nodded.

Gathering his breath, Ron flung himself upwards and to the right. A spell sizzled through the air where he had been, but then there was a thud, and looking up, Ron saw Nott crumple to the ground with a cry of pain.

"Come on!" Harry shouted and sprinted up the hill. Ron struggled to his feet and followed. As soon as he was past the barrier he sent a Petrificus towards Nott, who went rigid. Harry paused for a second by Hermione, but then he was past her, and running towards the portal. The Horse was almost gone and the portal looked smaller and more wavy. Hermione's wand hand was shaking madly.

Torn between Harry and Hermione, Ron shouted, "Wait!" but Harry kept going. The Horse had disappeared and the portal was closing now. Harry leapt and disappeared into the shimmering air.

"No!" It was Draco, clutching his side and struggling forward, Goyle supporting him. "Harry, no!" He stumbled forward a few steps, but the portal disappeared before he reached it.

Ron's wand was in his hand, but there was no spell he could cast. No spell he knew that would bring Harry back or let Ron follow. He was gone.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

He was here, wherever here was, and didn't have a damn clue about what he was going to do now. Harry shivered and tried to see through the thick fog which he had encountered upon entering the portal. There was no sign of Slytherin or the Horse.

If I had my wand... But he didn't. So there was no point in thinking about it. Instead, he stumbled forward, hands groping in front of him for obstacles.

How much time passed, Harry couldn't tell, but suddenly his hand encountered something warm, and he jumped back, heart pounding. The fog swirled and the warm body slowly resolved into the White Horse. It stared at him and shook its mane. Hesitantly, Harry reached forward again and touched it. The Horse just blinked at him, so Harry walked along, running his hand along the Horse. It was reassuring to touch something solid, even if it was some prehistoric apparition.

Harry reached the Horse's head and took one step forward. The fog and the White Horse disappeared as if the had never been, and he found himself standing in a room. The walls were made of stone, and it was sparsely furnished - a desk, covered with parchment, a narrow bed in the corner. There were no windows. Slytherin stood in the middle of the room, his eyes closed and his arms upraised.

Before he could decide what to do - whether he should try to attack Slytherin or look around for a potential weapon - Slytherin suddenly cried out. Harry started back - a strange smoky substance was pouring off Slytherin. The smoke slowly resolved itself into three figures. Each was vaguely human shaped, and the smoky essence whirled and twisted, caught in breaths of air that Harry could not feel. The figures faded in and out, flickering madly. Each one seemed to have golden specks inside it - like dust motes caught in a sun beam. Harry felt a strange attraction to one of the figures, like recognizing an old friend.

Two of the figures drifted swiftly to the door of the room, a heavy, oak edifice, and Harry saw that a fourth shadow was already there, clamoring to get outside. The other one, the one that Harry could almost give a name to, hesitated behind them, blowing this way and that in the invisible breeze.

"Come here." Harry whirled around at the sound of Slytherin's voice, but he was not speaking to Harry. He was beckoning to the shadowy figures, his jaw tight with concentration. "Come to me."

One of the shadows - the one who had already been at the door - began to drift to Slytherin. Suddenly it began to waver madly, as though a strong wind were ripping through it. It turned and fought its way back to the door.

"No!" Slytherin's eyes snapped open, and he saw Harry. "You - what are you doing here?" he spat.

Stopping you seemed a foolish thing to say when all Harry had done so far was stand around staring. So he said nothing.

"You're trying to get it back, aren't you?" Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Even if you do - I won't let you back when I re-open the portal."

Harry frowned for a second, and then he realised what the figures were and why he knew one of them so well. "That's Ives and Nora, isn't it?" He pointed to the two figures trying desperately to unlock the door. "And the other one is you and the fourth one is..."

Slytherin nodded. "Remarkable, isn't it? To see an essential part of you take form?" He stepped towards his own shadow, his own magic. "And now the agony of being parted will be ended."

But his magic resisted. It eluded his grasp and fled into a far corner. Slytherin growled in frustration. "Come to me! You cannot resist!"

"It - you - know that it's wrong!" Harry broke in. "Your magic knows that it is time for you to die. You shouldn't be afraid."

Slytherin turned to him with a look of fury. "I am not afraid." Before Harry could move, Slytherin had backhanded him across the face. Harry reeled into the wall. "Stupid boy," Slytherin hissed. "I dare to challenge the very laws of the universe and you call it fear!"

"Some things," Harry gasped, "some things shouldn't be challenged."

Slytherin sneered. "Then go. Open that door and see what lies beyond."

Harry looked at the heavy wood, the metal doorknob, and felt a great thrill of terror. He didn't know what lay beyond that door. It might destroy him utterly. He might not exist on the other side. What if he, Harry James Potter, ended?

Harry cowered against the wall, and Slytherin laughed mockingly. Then he turned back to his magic and began to coax and cajole it to rejoin him. His magic remained distant, but seemed to be weakening, the airs which stirred it blowing with less fury.

Harry's mouth was dry, and his heart pounded. He knew what he should do. What he had to do. He had to open that door. He had to open that door so that Slytherin's magic could escape, so that Ives and Nora's magic could rejoin them. But he couldn't. He couldn't move. Would his own magic rejoin him even if he opened the door, or would it flee as well? What if he had no choice but to go through the door once he opened it?

Then, a touch reached him through the fear. A hand intertwined with his own. A familiar smell, a familiar voice. Draco. Harry knew it was only a memory, but it was enough.

At first, it turned his fear to sorrow. Sorrow at the thought that he might never see Draco again or hold him close. Sorrow at the thought that he could lose the life they should have lived together.

But then as memories flooded through him - Draco reading the morning paper with a furrowed brow, Draco laughing as he chased the Snitch, Draco's face as he leaned close for a kiss - sorrow turned to an irrefutable knowledge. No matter what he became, not matter what happened after he opened that door, he would know Draco when they met again. Like his magic, which, although it was in a strange and unfamiliar form, was still a part of him, so it would be with Draco.

He opened his eyes and looked up. Slytherin was leaning close to his magic now, whispering to it and slowly reaching out a hand. He must move now or it would be too late.

Harry stood up straight and crossed over to the door, Slytherin too engrossed to pay him any attention. The shadow of his own magic came towards him, but Harry couldn't look at it now, he had to open the door before his resolve failed. The magic of Nora and Ives fluttered around him as he stopped in front of the door. He placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Get away from there, Potter!"

Slytherin had seen him, was advancing on him. Harry turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The shadows of Nora and Ives rushed past him. "No!" Slytherin cried and Harry saw Slytherin's magic dart past him, eluding the clutching hands and fly through the door. Slytherin's face twisted into a grimace of fury and fear.

"You've destroyed it!" he screamed. "Everything I worked for! Everything I was!"

"It's not gone," Harry replied. "You can still follow."

"You fool!" Slytherin drew himself up, towering over Harry. "Don't you know what you've done?" The room they were standing in wavered, and Harry found himself standing in a familiar place - the front hall of Hogwarts. It was empty and silent. The doorway here was open, too.

"Look around you," Slytherin said. "This is the future that you have now chosen for our kind."

"This is Hogwarts - I don't -"

"There is no Hogwarts. Hogwarts is empty!" Slytherin shouted, his voice echoing. "Our blood will continue to be diluted by Muggles and half-breeds until we cease to exist. No more wizards, no more magic."

"You can't know that," Harry said.

"I have foreseen it!" Slytherin thundered.

"You're wrong. The strongest wizards and witches have been Muggleborns, half-bloods. There's no reason why that should change."

"Before I died," Slytherin said, his voice now low and insistent. "I saw Hogwarts ruined. The school that I had helped to build infiltrated by filth! By then I was old, it was too late for me try and halt the damage. So I made up my mind that I would come back - I would come back from death to save the wizarding world."

"It doesn't need saving," Harry said. "Yes it's changed. It's not the world that you knew. And it might not be any better than that one. But it isn't any worse, either."

"You're wrong!" Slytherin advanced a few steps, pushing Harry back until his left foot was resting on the open threshold. "Without the dilution of our blood we could have been the rulers of this earth! We could have done the impossible!"

"When we can live side by side with Muggles," Harry replied, "then we will have done the impossible. And your ambitions bring us no closer to that day."

Slytherin's face darkened, and his hands grasped Harry's throat. Harry grabbed Slytherin by the wrists, trying to pry his hands apart, but he was strong. "If I cannot have my dream," Slytherin hissed, "you shall not have yours, either."

Dark spots began to encroach on Harry's vision. His attempts to loosen Slytherin's grip were becoming weaker. Perhaps, if he stepped over the doorway, Slytherin would fall with him. Mustering the last of his resolve, Harry prepared to take the last step.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his magic flitting towards him. Then it was next to him, embracing him, and finally rushing back into him. He felt a surge of power, and Slytherin was flung away from him. Slytherin crashed into the opposite side of the doorway, teetered there for a moment, and then fell out the doorway with a cry.

Sinking to his knees, Harry took deep, gasping breaths. He could feel his magic coursing through him. Looking out of the door, he felt a sense of wonder steal over him and the last of his fear finally melted away.

It was hard to close the door now. Almost as hard as it was to open it. But he did and for the same reason.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Draco's side burned like fire where Nott's curse had struck him, but it was a distant pain. Greg had torn up some of his cloak and was now clumsily tying it around the wound. Draco didn't try to help or hinder him. All he could do was sit hunched over in the wet grass and stare at the spot where Harry had disappeared.

Ron was bending over Hermione. She had fainted as soon as the portal closed. Frantic, Draco had shaken her, trying to awaken her so she could open the portal again. Ron had cast him aside furiously, which almost earned him a black eye from Greg. Finally Ron made Draco see reason - Hermione would be too weak to perform the spell even if she did wake up and none of them could do it.

The minutes passed, becoming half an hour, then an hour, with no sign of Harry.

"How's your side?" It was Ron, stooping over him, back from making sure Nott was restrained so that they could take him to the Ministry.

"It hurts," Draco said.

"Look - Harry - he's going to be okay."

Draco looked up at Ron. "I think I used up all my miracles."

Ron surveyed him silently for a few moments, then went back to Hermione, wrapping his cloak around her. Draco shut his eyes and felt the first tears welling up.

"Draco. Draco." Greg pulling at his shoulder.

"What?" he snapped, unwilling to face the first few moments of a life without Harry.

"Look."

Reluctantly, Draco raised his head and looked up into the sky where Greg was pointing.

It was the Horse, galloping over the hills to the east where the night looked worn out and hinted at the coming dawn. There was a small figure on its back. Slytherin. Draco's heart fell and the last bit of hope faded.

"It's him," Ron breathed next to him, and Draco turned, expecting to see an expression of fear, but instead Ron's face was lighted up, and he was smiling. Draco looked back at the Horse. As it came closer, Draco saw that the person riding it was actually draped over its back. Perhaps...

The Horse drew nearer and nearer and then came to a halt in front of them. It whinnied and pawed the ground. Draco approached and saw that yes, it was - "Harry!" he cried out and ran forward.

He and Ron eased Harry off the Horse's back and onto the ground. Draco pressed two trembling fingers to his throat.

"Is he - ?" Ron asked.

"Alive," Draco replied. He lifted Harry, pressing his face to his chest and burying his face in Harry's tangled hair. "He's alive."

Ron whooped with joy, Greg cheered, and Harry's voice whispered in his ear, "I promised I'd never leave you."

"I know," Draco couldn't stop a few tears from falling, and Harry kissed them off his cheeks. "But I - " Harry's lips against his own stopped him.

"You're hurt," Ron said, and Draco noticed the bruise beginning to darken Harry's cheek.

"It's nothing," Harry replied. "What about you?" He put his fingers on the bandages wound around Draco's side.

"I'll live. I'm sure Hermione will fix it in a moment once she wakes up."

Harry turned to look for Hermione. "Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine," Ron assured him. "That spell just took a lot out of her is all. The manticore venom should have worn off once she wakes up."

"But what about Slytherin?" Draco interjected.

A strange light came into Harry's eyes for a moment, but then it faded, leaving him looking confused. "He's dead," Harry said slowly. "But I don't remember how it happened. I remember following him through the portal and a lot of fog and..." he trailed off. "Nothing until I woke up here. But I'm sure he's gone."

"Probably knocked your head," Ron said. "As though you weren't weird enough to begin with," he added with a smile.

"Probably," Harry murmured, although he still sounded like he was trying to remember. He looked up at the Horse. "You must have brought me back."

The Horse tossed its head a few times, whirled around, and galloped back through the darkness towards its own Hill. As it went, its form grew more and more insubstantial until it vanished, like smoke. Just as it disappeared, the last torch went out, plunging them into darkness. Ron muttered and groped for his wand, but Harry spoke first, "Lumos."

"Harry, what did you just - " Draco broke off, staring at the light hovering over Harry's hand.

"Magic," Harry whispered, a smile breaking over his face. "It's back."

"But how?" Ron asked, holding his fingers close to the light.

"I - don't remember." Harry shook his head. "Let me see your wand, Draco, please."

Draco held it out, and Harry got to his feet, taking a deep breath. "Expecto Patronum!" The white stag burst forth, galloping once around the hill.

Harry looked down at them, grinning. Draco's throat was too tight to say anything, so he just got to his feet and gave Harry a tight hug.

"What's happening? Ron?" It was Hermione, rising dizzily to her feet. Ron hurried over to her, putting his arm around her waist. "Oh, Ron," Hermione leaned against him. "I'm sorry - I tried to fight it, but I couldn't help it, I -"

"It's okay, Hermione," Ron said, kissing her. "You're safe - we're all safe."

"Slytherin is gone - destroyed?"

"Yes," Harry said, grinning. "And look -" He cast the Patronus spell again, and Hermione gasped.

"Oh, Harry! It's back - your magic!" She threw her arms around him. "Oh, this is wonderful!" Harry began laughing, and Hermione, Ron, and Greg joined in.

Draco stood a little to the side, watching them, and realised something - these were the people who mattered to him now. A know-it-all Muggleborn, a Weasley, Greg, whom he had once scorned and ridiculed, and, of course, Saint Potter. His friends. His family. He began laughing, too, and allowed Harry to pull him into a hug.

Epilogue

The light from the setting sun made even the burned timbers of the Manor look peaceful and pretty. Draco stood up, wiping ash and dirt from his hands, and gazed out over the forest. The new manor he had wanted to build no longer rose up in his imagination.

"All this gold - what are you going to do with it?" Harry asked softly from behind him.

"I'm not sure," Draco replied. "Donate it to St. Mungo's or maybe," he hesitated, "maybe use it to start a campaign to get rid of Azkaban and the Dementors."

Harry's breath was warm against his cheek. "I think that's a great idea. As long as you're sure..."

"I'm sure," Draco replied. Two nights ago, they had invited Hermione, Ron, and Greg over for dinner. They had all been crammed in the kitchen, but as Draco looked around the small room, he realised that he didn't need - didn't want - anything more than this. The very next morning he had gone into work and told the first client who insulted him to please keep a civil tongue in their mouth or they would need to find another banking establishment.

Harry squeezed his hand and then knelt on the ground. He touched his fingers to the dirt and whispered a spell. Wildflowers sprang up around the black wood and iron - pink, blue, purple, yellow.

"Showoff," Draco said with a smile.

v.v.v.v.v.v.

Ron stood on the grassy lawn, staring up at the house with a smile on his face. It was just what he had dreamed of - round windows peeking from behind corners, narrow chimneys jutting out at unexpected angles, grass sticking up through the stoop.

Hermione emerged from the doorway, dusting off her hands. "I finished off two boggarts hiding in the closets," she announced.

"Still turning into McGonagall these days?"

Hermione smiled, but then her face became serious. "No, actually." She took a deep breath. "I want to say, Ron, that I'm sorry. For what I said."

"Me, too." Ron scuffed his shoes in the dirt.

Hermione came and slipped her arm through his. "It's not that I didn't want to, really, but I'm...scared. I don't have any experience with children."

"Hey, it's okay." Ron cuddled her closer. "I've never been a dad, either. And anyway, I know they have books all about it."

Hermione laughed. "That's true."

"I mean, we shouldn't rush into it or anything. I guess I just wanted to know that it might be part of our lives at some point."

"But not seven?"

"No." Ron chuckled. "I'm not as crazy as my parents."

"Then...yes. If you're there to help me."

"Always," Ron said, kissing her.

Sitting down with Hermione under a shady tree by their new home, Ron decided that this future, although not what he had expected, wasn't all that shabby either.

Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story! Many thanks also to my beta, Carnilia, for all her help.