Chapter Text
These are the things, the things that maybe happen during the Second Wizarding War
There is a house east of France, in a town that is not particularly pretty or interesting but that has a train station. In less than two hours, probably closer to one, you could find yourself in Swizerland, or Germany, or Italy or even Austria, and in a morning you could get to Luxembourg, Belgium or Netherland.
And once you were there, you could do so many things. Acquire supplies. Let yourself be seen by a wizard. Spread misinformation.
You could cover your traces, change your disguise twice and come back to the house in the unremarkable town in time to enjoy the dinner your husband has prepared. He hasn’t taken well to living in hiding, he is not used to a house with no house elves and having to do chores even by magic.
But he has discovered cooking, and dear Circe’s Curls, is he good at it.
There is a house east of France, in a town that is not particularly pretty or interesting. In the house there is a middle age couple, kissing over a table with roasted peppers, cheese and wine.
---
Perhaps Voldemort had felt too close to death and he had grown scared. Perhaps he simply needed something to keep his followers in check. Fear gives you power, gives you a sort of desperate energy. Or perhaps all the rage at the Malfoy’s betrayal and Harry’s escape had given him a second wind. Whatever the reason, things get nasty.
Dedalus Diggle’s house burns down and it is pure dumb luck that he wasn’t there at the time. Octavius Pepper disappears and so does Jacob Erland and Jennifer Winston.
There is no question about what happened to Charity Burbage. Her corpse is left to be found in Godric’s Hollow, in the intersection of two streets were multiple half-blood families live.
Dean Thomas is almost murdered as he leaves the Hogwarts’ Express by three deatheaters who wanted to make an example of him. Dean survives with only some injuries and the deatheaters flee, one of them missing one of his hands and a few fingers of the other after encountering Seamus Finnigan’s particular branch of magic. Despite the gruesome spectacle and the blood, they had to count it as a win. They don’t like it.
---
The Ministry falls. Lestrange and Crouch and Rosier are at the head of the attack and they are vicious. Nobody expected such viciousness. Nobody expected Avada Kedavra to be the very first curse they cast.
Alastor “Mad-eye” Moody dies. It took three deatheaters to bring him down.
The Ministry is reclaimed nine hours later and everybody agrees Rufus Scrimgeour should be the new Minister of Magic since he had been at the head of the defence.
But two days later there is a new attack, which they repel, and the same happens with the next one. Only after each one they are a little weaker. After each attack there is changes in policy and power and influence and nobody knows anymore who holds the Ministry at any given time. Scrimgeour is demoted. A week later he becomes Minister again for a few hours after his masterly defense of the Chillington families. But soon after he resigns and lets Phius Thicknesse become the new Minister just so Walden MacNair doesn’t become Head of the Auror Department.
There is talk of making a list of half-blood wizards and witches. For their protection, they say. But words like “registration” carry a certain ring.
There is talk of wide spread use of dementors outside Azkaban.
Nobody really understand how, but Amycus Carrow becomes the new DADA teacher at Hogwarts. Every other candidate is either dead or missing or suddenly refuses to take the post when the previous day was willing to do it.
They seize power wherever they can and they hold to it. Both sides do.
---
Some students in Hogwarts don’t dare walking around the corridors alone and it breaks Minerva’s heart.
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They are after blood, the deatheaters. They are coming after them. They comb the wizarding places, they use all kind of locating charms.
Arthur Weasley has three deatheaters following him at all times, in case he slips any clue. Percy Weasley has only two, but he is more talkative.
They stalk “places of interest” and wait.
---
Everybody is very familiar now with the half forgotten name, Harry Potter. There are rewards for any information regarding The Boy Who Lived, but people don’t know who, exactly, is the concerned party asking after him.
---
Fleur Delacour keeps a lot of correspondence. At first glance, it seems like she is just sharing English and French recipes with her friends.
Fleur Delacour is so pretty. Everybody comments that she is part veela. Nobody remembers she was the Beauxbatons Champion. If anything, they remark on her keeping her maiden name.
---
They need to interview the old witch who may have a clue to the location of the horcuxes. So they go visit her. Discretely. Late at night.
They had been waiting.
Bellatrix Lestrange comes very close to murdering Hermione. Her scream, as she sees them escape, rings in all of their ears for the whole duration of their trip around the Circle line. Seven times they go by, and it is only after the fifth that their shoulders begin to unclench.
Harry discovers he is afraid. Not of Voldemort or the deatheaters, but of the intensity of the woman’s passion. The potency of her hate.
He resolves not to let her win in any way. And so they spend the next day in the museum with strict orders to find a top five favourite. Not the absolute favourite, but something close. They eat muggle food and they splurge on a movie, and they return home that night feeling warmer.
---
Bathilda Bagshot is found dead.
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Ollivander’s shop burns. It takes four days to extinguish the fire, fed by all the wand materials in the shop.
Nobody knows if Ollivander was there.
---
They can’t keep calling it Neville’s Mould, so they hold a little contest and everyone writes their suggestions in a paper stuck to the fridge’s door and they vote. Kevin is a popular choice but in the end (they can vote as much as they like) Snape’s Class wins.
It is entirely possible that the next time they are attacked by deatheaters (in the middle of Diagon Alley in plain day! They were expecting trouble but nothing like this) someone throws a small glass vial of Snape’s Class at them. And Rabastan Lestrange, who had just casted a cruciatus curse on Ginny, is hit by it.
His agony last for two days. His last words begged for someone to kill him, but no one wanted to get near him for fear of contagion. He dies alone.
---
Florean Fortescue closes the ice-cream shop one day and he is never seen again.
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Ted Tonks was supposed to die, but he lives another day.
---
Kingsley Shacklebot is a hardened man. But when he hears what Bartemius Crouch Jr. has planned for “the mudblood” as she is always unfailingly called, he has to be sick in a waste bin.
---
Two slytherin boys visit Gringotts and break in a vault and cast fiendyfire and burn all of the contents, including an invaluable silver cup that had belonged to Helga Hupplepuff. They almost get caught because they are laughing and exhilarated and they can´t breath. They had destroyed something more than a horcrux today and it had felt so good.
Bill Weasley recognizes them and gives them a hand and they escape with a message for Ron that his mother wasn’t angry, not anymore, and she hoped he was well and taking care of Ginevra.
And
There is an ambush. But it seems they knew or perhaps they are just that good in a fight, those kids. The snake sees and opening and jumps after them, jaws open wide. She is caught by a boy that used to be clumsy and fat and has grown to become so strong. The snake trashes violently but the boy is not loosening his grip and in fact he rises with her, exposing her belly, and a gentle girl with dreamy eyes, a girl that has known suffering, drives her poisoned knife in to the snake’s heart.
And
The locket is strangling the boy, pushing him down, taking his air, becoming stronger as it takes its life.
The witch is not having her stupid, insensitive, funny, and loyal friend killed today. She grabs the locket, pulls it away from his friend’s neck. Her hand and fingers are cut by the chain and she will be scarred for life, but she breaks it. She throws it in the air and doesn’t even say a word, she just points at it with her wand and it burns until it is nothing more than a bit of charred fused metal.
The boy asks for a “get better” kiss and she cries but she also kisses him, and laughs and cries and kisses him again when he says that she better not be expecting jewellery, he was not going to be that kind of boyfriend.
---
The Quibbler becomes one of the most popular wizarding papers. It starts printing special issues every two weeks with information on what is really going on in the Ministry and it is a nice comparison to the “everything is fine, this is fine, nothing is on fire” message from The Prophet.
The first page, just after the cover, is always a letter addressed to the Missing Seven, as they had become known. Mostly it just starts as a letter from Xenophilius to Luna, telling her that he loves her very much and please be careful of stinging snapplaters, they are very common near wizards with black hearts. But soon it includes other people’s messages, to the kids and to the public in general.
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Dress warmly, please, both of you.- Mom
And people said we were the wild ones.- F&G
Your mother loves you.-
We love you.-
Hermione don’t worry we are making copies of our class notes.- P.P.
Was that you in Godric’s Hollow?.-
You saved my life and I couldn’t even thank you.-
Neville, I am very proud of you. – Grandma
Well done, you!.- S.F.& D.T.
This year DADA teacher is the worse ever, you are missing nothing.- Gryffindor House, 6th & 7th year
You are giving people hope.- R.L.& S.B.
I hope you are eating well.- Mom
Be careful.- K.S.
I miss you.-
Can I go with you?.-
---
It takes them multiple sleepless nights to figure out that they are missing Ravenclaw’s Diadem. (Inspiration strikes one evening, courtesy of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Rusell). Worse still is learning where it is.
Nobody believes Colin Creevey when he swears he has seen the Missing Seven wandering late at night around Hogwarts and during a Saturday when most people had gone to Hogsmeade (They go together now, in big groups). He saw them. All of them. Even Draco Malfoy was there! And there was someone else too, a boy with hair of black and blue and green.
(Harry’s hair has become their own Aurora’s gown).
They live in Hogwarts’ kitchens for almost an entire week. Everybody is a bit taken aback by Harry’s enthusiasm at meeting and befriending the house elves and the ghosts. He listens to all of them, learns all the names and lets them tell him any big or small story they want to share. How a house elf got his or her name. The best way to prepare rice pudding. The hour long retelling of how a certain ghost was murdered.
No human, not even the faculty staff, learn of their presence there. The elves and the ghosts and even Peeves keep their secret.
On the sixth day they finally track down the blasted diadem and destroy it and leave. They carry lots of food with them, courtesy of the elves.
And two weeks later Peeves can’t contain himself any more and blurts that yes, Harry Potter was here and took something important, what are you gonna do, Carrow? This after taking Pansy Parkinson’s plate and spoon and banging them repeatedly while in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall. He then proceeds to moon the professors’ table and Carrow in particular before disappearing with a cackle.
---
Nobody has seen a unicorn in months. The werewolves had all fled. The root of the thousand years old tree did nothing to heal and bring back strength.
The witch has lost count of the people she had attacked, tortured, killed. Some to get information, some to steal their possessions, some simply to let go of her rage.
The ice-cream maker says he had heard a rumour, from the merchant that brings him fresh lemons and oranges. That somewhere in Greece there used to be a woman… But she fled, she fled and no one had seen her in a while.
A witch. A seven daughter of a seven daughter. Left handed and a virgin still.
A drop of her blood in a potion will make it ten times stronger. Taking her life… It will give you the energy to live fourteen normal lives.
So the witch, the devoted mad witch, searches for the elusive girl. She hears from the assistant of the robe maker that a scared girl went through Italy. The toad woman in the Ministry (half-blood, half-blood! Unworthy of serving their Lord) re directs some resources and gets the Czech Republic.
Bellatrix goes there before Rosier or Crouch can arrive and take her treasure, despoil the gift for their Lord.
But what she finds is a third daughter of an only child, right handed and a mother.
What she finds is her own death and a sister who can’t even think of a word to say over her grave.
And the things that happened for sure
Greyback had been strong, and strength means charisma. With him dead, however, most of his followers found themselves wondering about the Dark Lord.
And then all five of his snatchers were found death in London. They had been tortured and their chests cut open, hearts missing.
So it was no wonder when all the werewolves collectively turned their backs on Voldemort. What nobody had expected was for sweet, meek Lupin, who was reading Anne of the Green Gables, to be declared the alpha dog and for many werewolves to come to him asking for help.
Sirius sat on the sides and watched the spectacle unfold, offering cheers and cups of tea and pastrami sandwiches.
Remus gave what advice he could, and most importantly had supporting smiles and listened, just listened to each and every one of their stories. Sometimes all the difference between life and death, between a good and a bad decision, lies in someone listening to you.
But of course, that wasn’t enough. They were still being hunted down, and they were still being ostracized.
“Like, this is good, Professor. Don’t get me wrong” said Marthia between chews of her sandwich. Remus hadn’t been her teacher but they had all started calling him professor, regardless. She was in her late twenties and had been a werewolf for more than ten years. The cold of the street still clung to her skin; her hair was still matted and bushy. She was not afraid to speak. “But we can’t all live out of the sandwiches Sirius prepares. What we need is a life, and they won’t let us get one!”.
This got lots of nods of agreement from the other werewolves. Some were old and hardened and tired, some young and scared and so sad. And none of them could keep a job for more than three months. Hell, for all Lupin spoke of serenity and balance and acceptance he was unemployed too.
And then Remus was in one of his favourites bookstores and he had been talking to a teenager who had just finished The Hobbit and wanted more, dammit, and they had talked a bit about Tolkien who Remus knew just because James read it one Christmas break after he learned that Lily liked it.
Remus honestly, really, didn’t know what happened next. But the manager had put a job application in front of him and he had filled it and he guessed he had a job now, he started on Monday.
Sirius snorted butterbeer down his nostrils, he was laughing so hard.
(Remus was allowed to bring home the unsellable books. The ones that had been in exposition too long and were roughly handled and creased and the cover eaten by the sun and some pages falling. Sirius read Good Omens and started calling Remus Aziraphale).
Remus waited with trepidation for the third full moon. When people noticed it was the third time you fell sick in as many months and drew conclusions. Only the full moon came and it went and no one at work said anything other than Theresa, who sat next to Remus and offered him a cup of hot tea in exchange for some of his chocolates and some of those painkillers he carried ‘cause her uterus was killing her and fuck biology, man.
Remus could get behind that feeling.
The second problem for werewolves, of course, was that the Wolfsbane was so damned expensive. Very few people could actually buy it, and forget about brewing it yourself because it was also terribly complex.
“No”. Said Snape.
“Come ooooonnnnnn, I will pay for the ingredients myself”. Sirius insisted.
“No”.
“I will pay you”.
“I do not require money, Black”.
“What, do you want my body?”
It was worth it just for Snape’s distraught expression. Plus, he eventually agreed to brew the potion if Sirius stopped throwing himself at him, batting his eyelashes and pouting. Mostly, he just needed and excuse to say yes.
The Number 12 of Grimauld Place saw an increase in visitors and, really, the Fidelius charm didn’t make much sense anymore because Sirius kept inviting people in. Which made him loads of good because all he needed in life was people to talk to and flirt with, and the house benefited from the airing. All werewolves got a hot meal in them and when the moon came, the Wolfsbane potion, no questions asked. Some of them returned, some only came for the potion and refused to speak a single word. Some came once and they were never seen again and people worried. Some stayed with Remus for a chat and a quick course on muggle ways.
If you went to London these days, you would find that many Starbucks and Costa Coffee were staffed by young foreigners who wanted to improve their English and by some of the hairiest Britons in all the Isles. Seriously, you wouldn’t believe some of the whiskers there.
If your sense of smell is five hundredth times that of a human, a coffee shop that also makes pastries and cookies is not a bad place to be. Not at all.
---
Harry took the tube to the north and walked the ninety minute walk to the bank of the river Lea. It hadn’t changed much. It sill wasn’t pretty nor picturesque.
The pungent smell of mud was a bit less intense.
A few steps back from the shore line, near where a police line once stood, there was patch of bare earth, no bigger than a hand, where nothing grew. It was deep, deep, black and hot to the touch. Not that any people touched it or even saw it, as it was hidden by a ring of wild lilies that somehow had taken root there.
Harry kneeled by the bare patch and put his hand over it, hovering. Perhaps he saw it or perhaps he imagined it, something unclenching from that place in his forehead behind the scar, something small and forgotten travelling down his throat as he swallowed. Something dark, an echo of something bigger that once lived by his heart. Something that eeled down his arm and to his hand.
Something that fell to the ground, to the black hot earth.
The earth pulsed then, as if it were part of a bigger, living creature. A creature made of tar.
There was a certain coldness about Harry brought by fear and the awareness of horror, the awareness that that had been once inside him. The coldness became detachment, as he stared at the black patch thinking of the small and the big evil. You didn’t need to be a dark wizard to make the world a dark place. Darkness could come from the dullest people living in a bungalow in the suburbs.
But.
He had once chosen to be grateful for some flowers. He had once chosen not to dwell on despair and anger and thoughts of revenge. He had once chosen light and colour.
“Abracadabra” whispered Harry. The black earth trembled, turned into itself, boiled. The earth seemed to give its spirit in a sight, releasing a dark vapour that soon fainted to nothing in the cool British air.
Harry lifted his hand.
Nothing would ever grow again in that patch or bare earth, a patch now turned to a faint white (pearl, the name is grey pearl). A patch hidden by the green leaves of the wild lilies.
Harry walked the ninety minute walk back to the station where Draco was waiting for him. He smiled at him when he saw him, closing his sketchbook and walking toward him even though he would have to retract his steps right away.
“It’s done” said Harry, taking his hand and accepting a kiss.
Seven out of seven.
There were still many things to do, monsters to face, and Voldemort himself at the end of it.
But they didn’t talk about it in their trip back to London.
They had both finished Hamlet las night and there was much to discuss. (Draco thought Hamlet’s problem wasn’t his father’s murder but that his mum was having sex with someone else; Harry just wished there was more about Fortinbras). Neville had discovered that tempura was a thing and he wanted to try it. Blaise said they should wear matching clothes in the final confrontation, for style and also for easy of recognition. He agreed to the Weasley Sweaters, but only so long as their colours were gold and black. Ron had gotten a bursting package and a bunch of letters from his brothers. Hermione had taken Harry’s plan to sit his A levels personally and decided she should too, so she was designing a study plan so both of them could sit those exams and the NEWTS. Possibly related to that, Luna and Ginny had taken to reading muggle textbooks and Ginny had turned out to be naturally talented at math and it was a bit scary, honestly. They still hadn’t heard anything on Luna´s father, so they wanted to take her to the opera to cheer her up. They were planning a visit to Remus somewhere where Sirius could go too, and looking forward to it.
There were still many things to do, monsters to face, and Voldemort himself at the end of it.
But after that, they would still have a happy life.
They were going home.