The rain kept hammering the Burrow's windows as Harry sat sandwiched between Ginny and Luna on the couch, the enchanted blanket draped over their laps, glowing faintly with its subtle warmth. Ginny's legs were slung casually over his, her arm resting behind him, while Luna leaned into his other side, her head on his shoulder like she'd claimed the spot ages ago. The fire crackled in front of them, throwing off just enough heat to keep the chill at bay, and the air smelled of chocolate and damp wood.
Ginny shifted, her knee nudging Harry's thigh as she turned to face him, a playful glint in her brown eyes. "You're pretty warm, Harry," she said, her voice soft, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Good to have around on a day like this."
Harry smirked, his hand settling on her knee under the blanket. "Happy to help out. You're not too bad yourself."
She chuckled, glancing up at him briefly. "Yeah? Might keep you around then—beats freezing."
Harry grinned, catching the light tease in her tone. "Oh, yeah? What's the pay like for that?"
She smirked, leaning in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a mock-serious whisper. "Top-notch cuddles and all the hot chocolate you can drink. Can't beat that, can you?"
"Sold," he shot back, his hand brushing her knee under the blanket, giving it a quick squeeze. "Might even throw in a few extra perks for you."
Her cheeks went pink, but she didn't pull away, just tilted her head with a cheeky grin. "Careful, Harry. I might hold you to that."
Luna, still nestled against his other side, let out a soft hum, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his thigh under the blanket. "He's good at keeping promises," she murmured, her voice dreamy but laced with that sly edge Harry knew too well. "Very… thorough."
Ginny snorted, oblivious to the innuendo. "Thorough, huh? What's he been promising you, Luna? World peace or a lifetime supply of pudding?"
"Something a bit more… personal," Luna replied, her hand creeping higher on Harry's leg, brushing the edge of his jeans where she'd left him reeling earlier. Harry's breath hitched, but he kept his face straight, shooting her a quick sideways glance that said behave. She just smirked, undeterred.
Harry turned back to Ginny, leaning into her flirtatious vibe. "She's exaggerating. I'm a simple bloke—cuddles, chocolate, maybe a Quidditch match or two. That's my limit."
Ginny laughed, nudging him with her elbow. "Simple, my arse. You've got that hero charm going on. Bet you could talk me into anything if you tried."
"Could I, now?" Harry arched an eyebrow, his tone teasing as his hand slid a bit higher on her knee, resting there casually. "What'd it take to test that theory?"
Her eyes flicked to his, a spark of mischief dancing in them. "Dunno. Keep being this warm and charming, and we'll see where it gets you."
Before he could fire back, Luna's hand squeezed his thigh, her fingers dangerously close to picking up where they'd left off. "He's very persuasive," she said, her voice light but her grip firm. "You'd be surprised."
Harry chuckled, caught between the two of them, and shifted slightly to give Luna less room to roam. "Alright, you two, ease up. I'm only one bloke—can't keep up with both of you ganging up on me."
Ginny grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder again, her hair brushing his neck. "Oh, we're not ganging up. Just keeping you on your toes. Right, Luna?"
"Mm-hmm," Luna agreed, her hand finally settling, though her fingers still teased the seam of his jeans. "Stopping you from getting lazy."
"Lazy's nice though," Ginny murmured.
"Lets you… enjoy the moment?" Luna asked as she slipped her fingers to grip his cock once again. She stroked him slow and steady, thumb grazing the tip, making him harden fast.
Harry's jaw tightened, but he kept it cool, smirking at her. "Well, enjoying's the plan."
Ginny stretched, her jumper shifting a bit, and she caught Harry's eye. "You're in a good mood," she said, her tone light, testing the waters. "Rain cheering you up or what?"
"Something like that," he said, voice roughening as Luna's hand pumped faster, her grip hot and slick. His fingers slid up Ginny's leg a touch, resting near her thigh. "Good company helps."
She grinned, nudging him gently. "Glad I'm part of it then."
Luna leaned closer, her breath warm on his ear. "He's got plenty of cheer to share," she purred, her hand working him harder, making him throb.
Harry chuckled, his hand staying still on Ginny's leg. "Reckon I do. Keeps things lively."
Ginny yawned, snuggling in. "Lively's good. Might nap soon, though—this weather's knackering me."
"Nap away," Harry said, his voice steady despite Luna's relentless strokes, her thumb circling his tip, slick with precum. "We'll hold the fort."
Luna's grip tightened, her voice airy. "Oh, we'll manage. Plenty to keep us busy."
The three of them fell into a comfortable quiet, the rain filling the silence. Ginny's flirtation was subtle, but Harry could feel it—like she was dipping a toe in the water, testing how he'd react. He didn't mind. She was easy to play off, and the idea of her joining the tangled mess of his love life wasn't unappealing. Another redhead in the mix? He could work with that.
The peace didn't last long. A loud whoosh erupted from the fireplace, green flames flaring up as Molly Weasley stumbled out, her face pinched with a mix of relief and worry. She brushed soot off her hands, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Harry, Ginny, and Luna sprawled on the couch.
"Oh, you're all here," she said, her voice tight but relieved.
Harry straightened up, gently disentangling himself from Ginny's legs and Luna's wandering hand. "Hey, Mrs. Weasley. How's Ron doing?"
Molly dropped her bag by the hearth and sank into the armchair Ginny had abandoned earlier, rubbing her temples. "He's stable, thank Merlin. Poppy says he'll wake up soon. I just… I hate seeing him like that, you know?"
Ginny slid off the couch and crouched by her mum, resting a hand on her knee. "He's tough, Mum. Ron'll be back to nicking my snacks in no time, you'll see."
Molly managed a watery smile, patting Ginny's hand. "I know, love. It's just hard. You lot are growing up, getting into all sorts of trouble, and I can't keep you all under my wing anymore."
Harry leaned forward, his voice soft. "He's in good hands with Madam Pomfrey. She's patched me up enough times—I'd trust her with anything. And Ron's a fighter. He'll pull through."
Molly nodded, her eyes glistening. "You're right, Harry. Thank you. You were here when I left this morning, weren't you? Kept Ginny company while I was gone?"
"Yeah," he said, glancing at Ginny with a small smirk. "Kept her out of trouble. Mostly."
Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, but her grin gave her away. "He's been a perfect gentleman, Mum. Well, mostly."
Luna giggled, her hand finally still under the blanket. "He's been very… entertaining."
Molly didn't catch the subtext, too caught up in her own thoughts. "Good, good. I'm glad you're all here, keeping each other warm. This weather's dreadful. Bill's also about to come back from work, said he'd had enough of the rain."
"How's he settling in?" Harry asked, already aware that the eldest son of the family had been over for a few days now.
"Oh, he's glad to be back," Molly said, her tone lightening a bit. "Says he'll stay a while this time—help out around here. Merlin knows we could use it with everything going on."
Ginny stood, stretching. "Well, I'm glad you're back, Mum. Want some hot chocolate? We've got leftovers."
Molly waved her off. "No, love, I'm knackered. Think I'll head up for a lie-down myself. You lot behave, alright?"
"Always," Harry said with a grin, earning a snort from Ginny and a knowing look from Luna.
Molly hauled herself up, grabbing her bag, and trudged toward the stairs. "Night, then. Or evening, I suppose."
As her footsteps faded, Ginny flopped back onto the couch, closer to Harry this time, her shoulder resting against his chest. "Poor Mum. She's proper shaken up."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, his arm slipping around her casually. "She'll be alright once Ron's back on his feet."
Ginny tilted her head, looking up at him with that playful spark again. "You're good at calming people down, you know that? Got a knack for it."
He smirked, his fingers brushing her arm. "Comes with the territory. Gotta keep the Weasleys in line somehow."
She laughed, leaning into him a bit more. "Oh, you think you can handle me, do you?"
"Reckon I could give it a go," he teased, his voice low as his hand rested on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
Luna watched them, her eyes glinting with amusement. "He's very capable," she said, her tone innocent but her smirk anything but. "Handles all sorts of challenges."
Ginny rolled her eyes, oblivious to Luna's meaning. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, Luna. Harry's a bloody saint."
"Not quite," Harry muttered, his grin widening as he caught Luna's gaze.
The rain slowly started to ease up, the steady pounding turning into a soft patter.
"Think I should head out soon," he said, shifting slightly but not pulling away from either girl just yet. "Got stuff to sort out."
Ginny pouted, just a little. "Already? Thought you'd stay and keep us warm a bit longer."
He chuckled, leaning closer to her. "Tempting offer, but I'll have to cash it in another time."
"Promise?" she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching his.
"Promise," he said, winking at her before turning to Luna. "You good, Luna?"
Luna nodded, her hand finally retreating from his thigh after she'd fixed him up. "Always, Master," she murmured the last word quiet enough that Ginny didn't catch it.
Harry stood, stretching, and smiled at the two girls. "Right, I'm off. Floo's calling."
Ginny hopped up, following him to the hearth. "Don't be a stranger, yeah? Come over sooner this time."
"I'll try," he said, tossing a handful of Floo powder into the flames. They flared green, and he stepped in, glancing back at her. "See you soon, Gin."
"Night, Harry," she called, giving him a small wave as he vanished in a swirl of emerald light.
Luna stayed on the couch, sipping her mug, a satisfied smirk on her lips. Ginny flopped back down beside her, oblivious to whatever had happened under the blanket.
"He's alright, isn't he?"
"More than alright," Luna said, her eyes glinting. "Much more."
"Think I should make a move?"
Luna merely gave her a serene smile. Giggling, Ginny wrapped an arm around her friend and leaned against her, smiling when Luna began to stroke her hair gently.
"Glad you agree."
XXXXX
The night air bit at Narcissa Black's skin as she hurried across the moor toward the Shrieking Shack. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts, fogging in the cool chill of the night.
The moon hung low, casting jagged shadows over the uneven ground, and her elegant black cloak dragged slightly as she moved. She'd chosen this spot again—secluded, forgotten, and perfect for what she needed to say. Her mind was a mess, tangled with grief, horror, and a betrayal so deep it felt like it had cracked her ribs open.
The confrontation with Draco earlier that day replayed in her head, his cruel words and colder eyes slicing through her over and over. She didn't know what she was doing anymore, only that she had to see Harry.
The Shack loomed ahead, its crooked silhouette unchanged since their last meeting. She slipped inside, the creak of the floorboards loud in the silence. Dust hung thick in the air, and moonlight spilled through the broken wooden walls, painting the room in pale streaks. She didn't have long to wait. Footsteps sounded outside—steady and calculated—and then Harry Potter stepped through the doorway.
He looked different tonight. Taller, maybe, or just more sure of himself. Unbidden, the thoughts of him and her—the ones she had used to pleasure herself—returned to her mind and despite the turmoil, her breath hitched at the sight of him, her fists clenching on her robes.
His green eyes caught the dim light, his gaze sharp and assessing as they landed on her. His cloak was thrown back, revealing the wand tucked casually in his hand, and his posture was relaxed but ready—like he'd already calculated every move she might make. Confidence rolled off him in waves, and it made Narcissa feel smaller, more fragile than she already did.
"Narcissa," he said, his voice even, carrying that quiet authority she'd noticed before. "I must say, I didn't expect this meeting today. What's this about?"
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her hands twisted together under her cloak, and she took a shaky step forward, then stopped. How was she supposed to start? How could she put the last few hours into words? Harry tilted his head slightly, watching her, and the sheer intensity of his gaze pressed down on her chest.
"I…" Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, trying again. "I needed to see you. Something's happened."
He didn't move, just kept those piercing eyes on her. "Go on."
She swallowed hard, her throat tight. The memory of Draco's sneer, his casual admission of murder, flooded back into her psyche, and her stomach churned.
"It's Draco," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I… I spoke to him today. After our last meeting, I did what you asked. I made him swear an oath—on his life and magic—that he hadn't done anything vile to earn his Dark Mark."
Harry's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. It felt as if he knew the answer already.
"And?" He asked, relaxed.
Her knees felt weak, and she leaned against the wall for support, the rough wood digging into her shoulder. She couldn't look him in the eyes, no matter how much she tried.
"He swore it," she said, her voice trembling. "But not the way I wanted. He… he said he was thrilled to do it. That he killed a m-muggle-born woman's b-baby in front of her, then k-killed her too. He said it was a test, that it made him stronger."
Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them back, her breath hitching. "He was proud of it, Harry. My son—my little boy—he's a monster."
The word hung heavy between them, and for a moment, the only sound was her ragged breathing and the choked sobs that threatened to burst out, kept under control just barely. Harry stayed silent, letting her get it out, his face unreadable.
"I didn't know," she went on, her voice breaking. "I thought… I thought he was forced into this, that the D-Dark Lord had threatened him—or me. I thought he was scared, trapped, like I was. But he chose it. He wanted it. He hates me for not understanding, for being weak."
She laughed, and the sound was as bitter and hollow as she felt.
"He twisted my arm—literally—when I tried to stop him from leaving. Called me pathetic. Said I'm a stain on the Malfoy name."
She pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling her sob.
"I don't even recognize him anymore, Harry. The boy I raised, the one who used to cling to me when he was scared—he's gone. And I don't know if he was ever really there, or if I just wanted him to be."
For a long moment, there was no sound apart from her sniffs and the rustling of the wind. Finally, Harry shifted his weight, crossing his arms as he regarded her. "You're sure he wasn't lying? To push you away, maybe?"
She shook her head, tears slipping freely now. "No. He meant every word. I saw it in his eyes, Harry—there was nothing left of the child I loved. Just… cruelty. And pride. He's not just following orders. He's in deep, deeper than I ever imagined."
Harry nodded slowly, processing it. He'd already known it all, so it was not surprising. Finally, his voice calm but firm, he said, "You remember what we agreed on last time, right?"
Narcissa's heart stuttered. She did remember—every word of that night was burned into her mind. The Shrieking Shack looked just like it did tonight, the moonlight streaking through the cracked windows. She remembered the way he'd smirked at her flustered attempts to flirt with him, the memory filling her with both mortification and desire. She remembered the oath she'd sworn to serve him, and the golden magic dissolving her marriage to Lucius. Finally, she recalled his condition for Draco: prove he wasn't a monster, or lose everything.
"I asked you to get him to swear that oath," Harry continued, his tone steady. "I told you I'd give him asylum if he could prove he wasn't evil. But if he couldn't—or wouldn't—I'd deal with him. You knew that."
Narcissa's chest tightened, her panic rising. "I know," she whispered, her eyes downcast. "I know what I promised. And I tried—I did what you asked. But… Harry, he's still my son."
Harry's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt. She took a shaky breath, stepping closer, and finally, she looked him in the eyes. There was nothing of the prideful Narcissa in front of him. Her eyes were pleading.
"I'm not defending him," she said quickly as she gazed up into his eyes, standing barely at an arm's distance from him. "What he's done—it's unforgivable. I'm sickened by it, horrified. I can't even look at him without seeing that… that thing he's become. But I can't just let him die, Harry. Not yet. I don't want him dead—I want him saved. From the Dark Lord, from himself. There has to be something left in him, some piece of the boy he was. I have to believe that, or I'll lose my mind."
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, but he stayed quiet, letting her spill it all out.
"I'm not asking you to forgive him," she went on, her voice raw. "I'm not even asking you to spare him if he's too far gone. But please—don't kill him. Not now. Give me a chance to reach him, to pull him back. I know it's stupid, I know it's desperate, but I can't give up on him yet. He's all I have left."
Harry exhaled through his nose, his expression hardening. "Narcissa, you heard what he said. He's not just some kid caught up in a bad crowd. He's a murderer. He's proud of it. And he's planning to kill Dumbledore. You think you can talk him out of that?"
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice breaking. "But I have to try. I'm staying at Malfoy Manor—I can't leave him there alone with those… those monsters. I'll watch him, I'll figure out what he's doing. Maybe I can stop him before he goes too far. Farther than he's gone already…"
Harry's brows shot up, and a flash of disappointment crossed his face. "You're staying there? After everything I did to get you out? I dissolved your marriage, Narcissa. You're free—Lucius has no claim on you anymore. But if you stay in that house, you're painting a target on your back. When he gets out of Azkaban—and he will—he's coming for you. And I won't be there to save you."
She flinched, but her resolve didn't waver. Her maternal instincts were still too strong.
"I'll deal with Lucius when the time comes. Right now, Draco's the priority. I can't abandon him, Harry. Not yet. I know he's vile, I know he's done terrible things, but he's still my son. I have to try to save him."
Harry shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. "Save him? He doesn't want saving. He spat in your face—literally and figuratively—and you're still running back to him. What's your plan? Talk him out of being a Death Eater? Hug the evil out of him?"
"Don't mock me," she snapped, her voice sharp for the first time. "I'm not naive—I know how it sounds. But I can't just stand by and let him destroy himself. I'll watch him, I'll find a way to get through to him. Maybe he's too far gone, maybe I'm fooling myself, but I have to know for sure."
Harry stepped closer, his eyes boring into hers. "And what happens when he turns on you again? When he twists your arm—or worse—because you're in his way? You think he'll hesitate because you're his mother? He's already shown you what he thinks of you."
Her hands clenched into fists, trembling. "I'll handle it. I'm not weak, no matter what he says. I'll figure it out."
"You're not weak," Harry agreed, his tone softening slightly. "But you're not thinking straight either. You're letting your heart override your head. He's not the kid you remember—he's a killer, Narcissa. And he's got a job to do for Voldemort. You really think you can stop him?"
"I have to try," she repeated, her voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I can't live with myself if I don't. You don't understand—you're not a parent. He was my baby once. I held him, I sang to him. That monster he is now… it doesn't erase that."
Harry ran a hand through his hair, exasperation clear on his face. "I get it. He's your son. But you're putting yourself in danger for someone who'd spit on your grave. You swore an oath to me—loyalty, service. How's that work if you're stuck in Malfoy Manor playing savior to a lost cause?"
"I'm not breaking my oath," she said fiercely. "I'll serve you, I'll do whatever you ask—except this. I'm begging you, Harry. Don't kill him. Give me time."
"Time for what?" he shot back. "For him to finish his little project? You know he's going to be working on the Vanishing Cabinet, right? He's trying to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts to get to Dumbledore. That's not some hypothetical—he's actively planning it."
"I'll stop him. I'll find a way."
Harry let out a short and humorless laugh, sneering at her. "You'll stop him? You couldn't even get him to talk to you without him throwing you on the floor. What makes you think he'll listen now?"
"Because I'm his mother," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "He may hate me, he may despise me, but I'm still the only one who's ever loved him unconditionally. That has to count for something."
Harry stared at her, his expression a mix of pity and irritation. "It doesn't. Not to him. You're chasing a ghost, Narcissa. And it's going to get you killed—or worse."
"I don't care," she whispered. "I have to do this. Please, Harry. Don't take him from me yet."
They stood there, locked in a silent standoff, the tension thick enough to choke on. Harry's jaw worked, his eyes searching her face, and she could tell he was torn—part of him wanted to shake her, part of him understood. Finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "I don't agree with this—I think it's a terrible idea—but I won't stop you. You want to try saving him? Go ahead. But listen to me, Narcissa, because I'm only saying this once."
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between them, and Narcissa's breath hitched at his proximity. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone as he leaned close enough that their faces were almost touching.
"Draco's mission is doomed. That Vanishing Cabinet plan? It's not happening—not on my watch. We both know I've already destroyed that thing. Even if he cooks up something else, I won't let him bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts. I won't let him hurt Dumbledore, or anyone else. The second I think he's about to cross that line, the second he endangers an innocent, I'm done waiting. I'll kill him myself, and I won't hesitate. If you don't want that to happen, you'd better do something fast."
A chill ran down her spine, his words sinking in like stones. His eyes were hard, unyielding, and she knew he meant it—every syllable. She nodded shakily, her throat tight. "I… I understand. I'll do something. I'll stop him."
Harry's lips pressed into a thin line, skepticism clear on his face. "Yeah, sure you will. I don't buy it, but it's your call. Just don't expect me to bail you out when it all goes to hell."
She swallowed, tears prickling her eyes again, but she held his gaze. "Thank you," she said softly. "For giving me this chance."
"Don't thank me," he said gruffly, stepping back. "You're digging your own grave. I just hope you're ready for what comes next."
She nodded again, wiping her face with a trembling hand. "I will be."
He didn't reply, just watched her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned, his cloak rustling as he headed for the door. "Stay safe, Narcissa," he said over his shoulder. "You're going to need it."
And with that, he was gone, leaving her alone in the dusty, moonlit shack. She sank to the floor, her legs giving out, and buried her face in her hands. The weight of it all—Draco's betrayal, Harry's warning, her own impossible hope—pressed down on her, threatening to crush her. But she couldn't give up. Not yet.
She'd go back to Malfoy Manor. She'd face her son. And somehow, some way, she'd find a way to save him—or die trying.
XXXXX
Harry trudged back across the moor, the Shrieking Shack swallowed by the night behind him. The air was sharp against his skin, cutting through his cloak as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. His boots crunched on the uneven ground, and his mind churned over Narcissa—her tears, her desperation, that whole bloody mess with Draco. He kicked a loose stone, watching it skitter away, and let out a quiet grunt of frustration. He wasn't even halfway to Hogsmeade when a familiar voice slid into his head, uninvited and smooth as silk.
'Well, that was a right borefest, wasn't it?' Maria's tone was teasing, edged with a faint whine. 'Here I was, hoping for some proper excitement, and you give me tears and mummy drama. What's the matter with you, Harry? You've got that hot piece of arse all to yourself in that dingy shack, and you let her sob instead of shagging her senseless?'
Harry stopped short, rolling his eyes as he leaned against a gnarled tree. The bark was rough under his shoulder, and he tilted his head back, staring up at the moon through the bare branches.
'Didn't ask for your opinion, Maria. She's a wreck—didn't feel right pushing anything. Draco's gone off the deep end, and she's clinging to some daft hope she can fix him.'
Maria's laugh echoed in his mind, sharp and mocking.
'Fix him? Oh, please. That little git's a lost cause—killed a baby and its mum, proud as punch about it. Twisted her arm when she tried to stop him, too. She's wasting her time, and you're wasting mine letting her drone on. Should've taken her right there—given her something else to think about. She's gagging for it, you know, all that pent-up tension.'
'You're a bloody menace,' Harry thought, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. 'She's not in the mood, trust me. Too busy begging me not to kill him. Wants me to give her time to sort him out, like he's still her sweet little boy. I told her he's plotting to get Death Eaters into Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore, but she's dead-set on staying at the Manor to watch him.'
'I'm still in disbelief about that. Seriously!?' Maria's voice turned incredulous, tinged with irritation. 'After you went and dissolved that miserable marriage for her? You're too good to her, Harry—freed her from that prat Lucius, and she's choosing to mope in that gloomy hole instead of jumping you? Pathetic. I'd have had her on her knees by now, thanking you proper.'
Harry shook his head, the smirk fading. 'Yeah, well, she's not you, is she? Kept going on about how he's still her son, even after all that. I get it, sort of—she's his mum, can't just give up like that. She's emotional and all, got years of memories with that little shit. Doesn't mean I'm too thrilled about it though. Told her I'm not waiting if he tries anything. One wrong move, and he's done.'
'Now that was more like it,' Maria purred, her tone brightening. 'A bit of edge, some stakes—I can live with that. Still, she's daft for sticking around. You should've dragged her off, shown her what a real man can do. Imagine the look on little Draco's face if he caught you two! His lovely mum getting shagged rotten and loving it—Oh! I'd pay to see that.'
'Relentless, aren't you?' Harry replied, pushing off the tree and starting to walk again. The wind picked up, tugging at his cloak, and he hunched his shoulders against it.
'You expect any less?' She asked, and Harry could see her grinning. All he did was shake his head with a chuckle.
'Didn't feel right tonight, Maria. She's too broken up—felt a bit bad for her, if I'm honest. She's in deep, and I reckon she's heading for a fall. Lucius'll come for her when he's out of Azkaban, too. Warned her, but you saw how she was like. 'I'll deal with it later.' Yeah, right.'
'Sympathy?' Maria groaned, her voice dripping with exasperation. 'You're going soft on me, Potter. She's a grown woman—she'll figure it out or she won't. Stop playing the hero and start playing the rogue. She's ripe for the taking, and you're letting all this heavy nonsense drag it down. Where's the fun? Where's the passion?'
'Give over, will you?' Harry shot back, a touch of steel in his thought. 'It's not always about that. She's a mess, yeah, but I can feel she's gonna be loyal—swore that oath to me and I know she meant it. I just wish she'd see sense about her ponce of a son. He's a walking disaster, and I'm not letting him wreck Hogwarts. I've told her straight—if he acts, I'm ending it. She knows it'd happen, but she's still hoping she can magic him back into her little kid.'
'Oh, for heaven's sake,' Maria sighed, dramatic as ever. 'Fine, be all noble if you must. But you're testing my patience with this slow slog. I want something thrilling soon—blood, heat, anything. I'm not here for the weepy family rubbish. Give me a show, Harry—you owe me after that dreary scene.'
'Alright,' Harry thought with a chuckle, his boots scuffing the dirt as he neared the village. The lights of Hogsmeade flickered in the distance, warm against the dark. 'Things'll kick off when Malfoy makes his move. Keep your eyes open—it won't be long before it all goes pear-shaped.'
'That's better,' Maria said, smug and satisfied. 'Don't disappoint me, now. And next time you're with Narcissa, don't be so gentle. She's begging for a distraction—give it to her, you gorgeous tease.'
Harry didn't bother replying, letting her voice fade as he kept walking. The wind howled softly, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke from the village, and he pulled his cloak tighter. Maria was a handful—always pushing, always prodding—but she wasn't wrong about the storm coming. Malfoy was a ticking clock, and Narcissa was caught in the middle. He'd given her a chance, but he wasn't holding his breath.
His mind drifted back to the Shack—Narcissa's tear-streaked face, the way her voice broke when she talked about Draco. It'd been a punch to the gut, seeing her like that, all her poise stripped away. He'd wanted to shake her, tell her to wake up, but part of him got it. She was a mother, even if her son was a monster. It didn't make it any less frustrating, though.
He passed the first few houses of Hogsmeade, their windows glowing softly, and his stomach growled. A pint and some food sounded good—maybe at the Three Broomsticks, if it wasn't too crowded. He'd deal with Narcissa's mess tomorrow, figure out how to keep an eye on Draco without tipping his hand. For now, he just wanted to switch off, let the day's weight slide off his shoulders. Maria could wait for her drama—he'd give her something worth watching soon enough.
To be continued…
Visit patreon.com/Vedros if you'd like to read more chapters and fics or have a say in what goes. Chapter 47 is already available.
There are also character artworks for the ladies if you're interested in seeing what they might look like.
I'll be back soon with the next update for this fic. Meanwhile, check out my other fics if you haven't yet. Cheers!