Hebe Knipping had been invited to stay the night at Beaumont Hall. She couldn't possibly, it would be far too much an imposition on them all and poor Mr Potter was dealing with so much. Still, she felt very privileged and also just a little bit delighted by the invitation as she tucked up into her own bed that night. And it had been a most interesting evening and she was enchanted with how she had been invited to stay for dinner and the conversation was so fascinating, so educational. She felt settled too, the knowledge that she'd never found her soulmate had always suggested there was something wrong, perhaps with her. Now she knew it was right. It had, in truth, always felt right to be alone. She didn't want to share her space with other company and the idea of an intimate relationship with someone else had always made her feel deeply uncomfortable. She felt vindicated, that the Ancestral Well understood that and she wasn't being forced into a situation that would never have suited her wishes. She finally felt at one with who she was; that she could be accepted for never wanting to marry or have children. Her sister had never understood her, criticised her even, told her she was selfish. But at Beaumont, in this diverse and welcoming home, she felt acknowledged for being her. She felt she could live her life unquestioned; just her and her books. She felt like she suddenly fitted. It made her want to give back to Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy because they'd suddenly provided her with more than she ever imagined. They'd given her space to find her identity and to be who she wanted to be.
She went back to the Hall the following morning after a fitful night's sleep, even though she wasn't expected until the Monday. She made her way up to third floor of the north turret to check on Ronald Weasley's work. She found there wasn't much to reorder, especially as she had given him very specific categories and the way of collating things. The library was beginning to feel more settled and she breathed a contented sigh. However, there was still a lot to do.
Minerva McGonagall joined her on the second floor just as she was making her way downstairs.
'I'm glad I have all those stairs at Hogwarts to keep me fit,' Minerva said with a self-depreciating little smile. 'We weren't expecting you in today, Hebe. I know Harry offered you a job but...'
'Oh no,' interrupted Hebe. 'This is all on my own terms. I wanted to come back. I...' she looked at Minerva McGonagall and took a deep breath. 'Yesterday, your son gave me a gift. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can hold my head up high and proudly say, "I am asexual and aromantic - this is me!".' There were tears in her eyes but she felt elated to say it aloud for the first time. 'I don't need to worry that I haven't found my soulmate or that I don't want to have a relationship with anyone. I am allowed to be happy being me, with my own company and my books. I can accept, without any guilt, that I don't want something else. And here, well, everyone has been so welcoming, so wonderful, and I can be me without any questioning or expectations. I can be at ease with my identity for the first time in my life...'
Minerva gave her arm a small squeeze. 'I am happy for you.'
'Thank you. I cannot express the relief I feel. Like I've come home. I don't mean...' she suddenly blushed at the implication that Beaumont was home.
'I understand.'
'I wanted to come in because I came across another book yesterday that may prove useful. It's a crossover between Art and Ancestral Magic.'
Hebe summoned the book and she handed it to Minerva. They stood side by side as Hebe explained. 'Despite my wishes otherwise, magic does have a habit of crossing between disciplines. I found this text on Mr Fleamont's shelves.' She tapped on the book called Magical Portraiture by Virgil Ackhart. 'This one will be catalogued under "Art" but is relevant to "Ancestral Magic". Ackhart discusses how the wizard or witch artist ensures the portrait moves, depending, of course, on the artist's ability. However, and this is important for Mr Potter, because it is the wizard or witch who is the subject of the portrait ensures that the image has the characteristics of themselves. Ackhart also talks about family portraits in the old Houses, it has some information which I think will be very important you to consider.' Hebe frowned a little. 'As I understand it, Mr Potter-Harry needs to be able to access Black Ancestral Magic for Sirius Black's portrait.' She paused, thinking hard. 'It's more complex than that though, isn't it? There's also Slytherin and then Potter as Harry's grandparents adopted him. Perhaps it is more about percentages but this is not my area. As I said yesterday, I am not a scholar.'
It was at that point that Harry returned with Hercules from their morning run, a beam on his face as he cut through the library to reach the room he was temporarily staying in. Minerva smiled to herself, he hadn't realised that they were standing in the quiet dimness of the library turret, chatting, until he nearly stumbled upon them.
'Minnie! Morning! Are you enjoying the view of my fabulous library?' he exclaimed as he bounded up the stairs. They hugged, although she couldn't help wrinkling her nose as his sweatiness.
'The others are drifting in to breakfast. George wanted to know if you have any hangover potion,' she said.
They smirked at one another, amused. Then Harry clearly caught Hebe moving out of the corner of his eye. 'Hebe! I wasn't expecting you!'
'Good morning, Mr Potter-Harry. No, I was just telling Minerva, I woke up to this morning with some thoughts after our discussions during dinner. And I assume that more of the books might be moved through today so I'll stay and oversee things. All on my own time of course, I'm not expecting anything in return.'
'At least let us provide you with your meals,' Harry said, good naturedly. 'Have you had breakfast?'
'Oh yes, Mr Potter-Harry.'
'Well, if you'd like a second breakfast, you know where to go.'
'You know, I think I will indulge.'
They leant on the balcony, watching Hebe climb down the stairs.
'Mum,' Harry said. 'Will you help me with the Tapestry today?'
'I've already started on clearing the room with Ossy.' She studied him carefully. He seemed different this morning.
'I'm going to finish hanging the portraits first but I'll come and join you as soon as they're finished. I was imagining that room might one day be a relaxing retreat room. Snug groups of seating and things.'
'I understand, Harry. Like the lounge at that hotel we once stayed at in Edinburgh.'
'Yes, brilliant! Can I leave it with you, mum?'
'Absolutely. Now, what's got you positively glowing? How was your run?' she asked.
'I went the other way around the perimeter today and, mum, you won't believe what I found! I've got a full-size Quidditch pitch beyond the orchard!'
Minerva snorted softly to herself as she looked at twenty-two-year-old Harry, still as excited about Quidditch as he was when he was six after watching Bill Weasley play.
'You should have played professionally,' she said fondly.
'You know they only scouted me for my name. Anyway, with Ron and Ginny going professional too, it seemed a bit... you know...'
She did. Harry was always so keen to let Ronald have his moment in the limelight, always so conscious that the Weasley boy tended to end up playing second fiddle to him. Still, it had worked out for Minerva, she was looking forward to having Ronald teaching at the school. She sighed, he really had made a mess of things with Hermione and was now following her around like a puppy-dog but not daring to go too close in case he got kicked. If everything that he'd blurted out was true, then she had no doubts that Hermione would eventually take him back, especially after what Mr Gryffindor had told them yesterday.
Despite the grin on Harry's face and the clear elation, Minerva was worried. Harry looked exhausted and she was concerned about how much he'd taken on in the past few days and he was still losing weight despite Letty's attempts to fill him with 'good proteins'.
'How are you holding up?' she asked.
'Okay. The Calming Potion works and even that little bit of easing through naming Teddy as the Black and Syltherin heir... but I want to be with Draco. I don't like being separated since we Bonded.'
'Then you need to consider whether it's doing you more harm than good. Perhaps, with Mr Zabini coming today, you may find his work helps.'
'I wonder if we have to paint the portraits in an order. Perhaps we need to do mum and dad first, then Sirius, and you too...'
Minerva pulled her lips tightly together in disapproval.
'I feel the same, mum. But you heard what Godric said. Oh,' he sighed with despair, '...there's so much to do! I need to talk to Narcissa, just in general, about the past and the future, and Draco and my intentions, and all that. The tapestry, finishing the rooms, everything's such a mess, portraits, I should go to Gringotts and declare Teddy as the Black heir, officially. And that's all before I get to sorting out the rooms that are just filled with boxes of belongings that have been packed up after various ancestors have died. I'm struggling to face going through mum and dad's stuff... and on top of it all, I'm beginning to have doubts that I can go back to work at the Ministry...'
Minerva squeezed his arm and touched his cheek in reassurance, sometimes she thought it was strange that they still held that closeness from when he was a little boy, she certainly wasn't a tactile person, yet with Harry... she always wanted to protect him from the troubles that seemed to plague him, the trauma which seemed to cling to his skin. She held his arms as she faced him. 'First, you don't need to do it all today. Second, give yourself time about returning to the Aurors, I'm sure you've got holiday leave due; you always do. Consider using it for once to give yourself a bit of space. For the moment, focus on your excess magic and the things you can do to help it. And you've got all of us here to help. I'll ask Narcissa to help with the tapestry too, then we can all get to know each other. She is, after all, the other mother-in-law once you two decide to do the honourable thing,' she teased.
Harry blanched.
'Again, Harry, you don't need to think about that today. Why don't you go and shower and then find Teddy to finish the portraits? I suggest that you go via the Breakfast Room and insist that everyone who's coming back tomorrow, brings their broomsticks and then you can utilise that Quidditch pitch and take some time out too. I'll find Narcissa to discuss the tapestry and I'll take Hebe's books too. I'll also talk to Ossy about clearing some of that room so we can see what we're dealing with.'
'Ossy!' Harry called.
The elf appeared with a gentle pop!
'How are you doing, Ossy?' Harry asked. 'Are we all running you ragged?'
'Oh no, Master Harry. It is all very exciting after so many years of quiet. It is wonderful to have life in the Hall again.' He bowed and Minerva couldn't help smiling at the large beam across Ossy's face.
'I was just wondering, Ossy, do we have any Quidditch equipment? The balls - I shall order some brooms for Draco and me today.'
'Oh yes, Master Harry. The Quidditch balls is being in the games room.'
'The games room?'
'Yes, sir, that is being next to the Orangery.'
'The Orangery? Was that outside somewhere? In the kitchen garden?'
Minerva nearly laughed aloud. 'It would seem you've not got your head around everywhere yet, Harry. The Orangery is off the west wing, it backs onto the tapestry room. I think you access it from the stableyard, unless we've not found the door yet behind all those boxes.'
'Yes, Mistress Minerva, you have to go through the stableyard to the Orangery.'
Harry looked baffled; he remembered the stableyard but not an Orangery but then he never went into it. He vaguely remembered Teddy saying something about a room with big windows so he assumed that was what he meant. It all seemed to crazily opulent and once more, he was left wondering what he could do with it all.
'You have a lot going on, darling. I know.'
'Is Master Harry wanting the Quidditch balls today?'
'Tomorrow, Ossy, no, they're not a priority. I just wanted to know.' Harry smiled. 'Right, I'll shower and then go and tell the others we're on for a game of Quidditch tomorrow and see how many we can rally.'
Draco watched Harry and Hercules saunter into the Breakfast Room and make a beeline for George. Harry was wearing his combats and a tight t-shirt, just as he had the day he walked into Draco's consultancy room and, as Draco now understood, had taken his breath away. He smiled fondly to himself about finding himself sprawled on the floor in front of Harry. He was glad Harry had seen past his mortifying clumsiness, enough to flirt with him outrageously and then ask Draco to join him and Teddy at puppy training. He must ask Harry what he'd said in Parseltongue, he was sure it was rude. Though maybe that wouldn't be a good idea at the moment. He snorted softly to himself. Look at them now! After all that crap at school! He supposed the writing was probably on the wall all those years ago. They'd always been drawn to each other; they'd just misread the situation. He wondered how things might have been if they'd realised they were soulmates back then. More devasting, he thought, as he remembered their earlier conversation. Draco couldn't handle handing Harry over to his father and Voldemort when they didn't even know they were soulmates. He tried to imagine the situation if they had known and decided he'd probably be long since dead.
Harry looked up from his conversation with George and winked at Draco, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. His hair was still damp from his shower and was drying more unruly than usual. Draco couldn't believe how much he liked it. And Merlin, what was the man up to now. George looked excited and Ron, who'd joined the conversation, was grinning like a buffoon. Draco caught the words 'pitch', and 'new brooms' and rolled his eyes. Quidditch then...
'We'll have to get Ginny and Bill involved too,' Ron exclaimed.
'Sure, you alright to invite them over? Fleur and the kids too, of course. Ron, can you let Gin know?'
Draco scowled but then mentally scolded himself. He had nothing to be jealous about, he was Harry's soulmate, not Ginevra Weasley. Besides, Harry was looking happier than he had in months and Draco realised Harry really loved surrounding himself with extended family and friends. And, in truth, it was good.
He looked at his mother, sitting quietly between him and Aunt Dromeda. Their initial reconciliation had been somewhat awkward. His mother was confused as to why Draco had cut himself off from her in the first place. It seemed there was a simple issue of mis-communication, her ideas about marriage had been too close to Lucius's controlling ways, causing Draco to withdraw. When he explained about Harry and him being soulmates, the confusion doubled as did Narcissa's upset.
'I didn't realise you were gay, darling. Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry, I would never have tried to push you into a situation that you'd be so unhappy with.'
He held his tongue, nearly throwing into her face a comment about being pushed into a situation with Voldemort, the Dark Mark and the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore but he knew that had been his father's doing, not hers. They had talked openly about his father, his fanatical beliefs, and his mistakes after his execution. He'd had been surprised to hear the lack of feelings his mother held for Lucius and her decision during the final battle that she would leave him and ask for a divorce. But, she said, they weren't soulmates, so there had never been a bond, just a financially-advantageous marriage agreement and a duty to the Malfoy name. Not that she ever regretted having Draco, he was the apple of her eye and made everything worthwhile. But she felt a distinct lack of warmth towards Lucius which faded to positive coldness as his fanaticism grew.
Draco didn't explain to his mother that he wasn't exactly sure if he identified as gay, he was just very much in love with Harry and that included what Harry did to him in a sexual way. He wasn't sure if that would make sense to anyone else so he didn't bother trying to explain it. He shuddered, thinking of Harry speaking Parseltongue again. No one had ever produced that sort of reaction in him before.
'What are you thinking about?' Harry whispered huskily in his ear as he leant over the back of Draco's chair. 'You're far away in thought.'
Draco glanced around the table to see people already making moves to their various jobs. Ossy was leading his mother and aunt off to help Minerva, and Hermione was already rounding up her teams of researchers, watching him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on her face.
'Oh right,' he stuttered out, blushing profusely at his daydreaming.
'Hmmm...' hummed Harry in his ear. 'I can think of only one reason for that particular faraway and smouldering look on your face.'
Draco stood up and faced Harry close to, his hands gently resting on Harry's chest. He whispered, 'you, Mr Potter, need to control your libido as much as your magic. There're teams of people here for you and you can't just be thinking of whisking me away upstairs to have your wicked way with me.'
'Ah-ha!' Harry grinned, 'so you were thinking about me being... what was it you called me... a lascivious slut... and doing all sorts of outrageous things to you.'
'Control yourself, Potter,' Draco said haughtily because he'd been caught out and Harry knew it full well.
'Hmmm...' Harry hummed again and caught his lips in a kiss. 'I miss you,' he murmured.
'Don't be ridiculous, Potter. We saw each other nearly all day yesterday, and the day before.'
'That's not what I meant and you know it,' Harry smouldered lowly in Draco's ear, his breath glancing across his neck. 'I think I need some of your special medicine, Dr Malfoy, to help me relax...'
Draco pushed him away. 'Ugh! That's just the worst line, Harry. Go and have a wank and sort yourself out!'
'Aw, my little Dragon is being a spoilsport,' Harry hissed quietly in Parseltongue, making Draco shudder.
'Fuck...' Draco exhaled, glad everyone else had left the room.
'I knew it,' Harry continued with wicked glee. 'I've only seen that expression once before, oh Dragon, if only you knew, everything that what I wanted to do back then has only amplified tenfold...'
'Harry, stop...' Draco whispered weakly but Harry was already pushing him backwards until Draco was pressed against the wall, flicking the door shut with his wandless magic as he went.
Harry's fingers made quick work of Draco's belt buckle and flies as he kissed Draco's jawline and neck before dropping to his knees.
'Harry, you need to control your magic...'
'I am...'
'Oh gods...' Draco moaned. 'You can't, not here, we're in the dining room.'
Harry pulled back and looked up at Draco, an eyebrow raised. 'I can and I am. Besides, it's our dining room, I could rim you in the middle of the fucking table if that's what we wanted to do.'
'Rim?'
The windows rattled slightly and the chandelier shook. 'I'll introduce you to that another time...' he said huskily. 'We've got a lot of rooms to christen, I'm sure I can think of something different for each one.'
'Stop talking, Potter. And get back to the task in hand... And, for future reference, I'm not having sex in the Great Hall with all your ancestors watching.'
Harry was kissing around his hip bone and teasingly using his hands. 'I don't know,' he murmured against Draco's skin. 'They might enjoy a bit of voyeurism. Liven things up for them after centuries of hanging around in dusty rooms... What about the library, do you think Hebe would consider sex amongst the books better or worse than food in the library?'
'I don't want to be thinking about Hebe while you're doing that... Oh gods...' Draco moaned again. 'How do you even know how to do that with your tongue?' His legs felt weak and shaky and he leant against the wall for support as his hands found their way into Harry's hair, grasping it tightly. 'Salazar and Morgana...' he moaned. 'I'm not going to last, Harry... Harry...'
He felt spent when Harry stood up to face him, a satisfied grin on his face. 'For future reference, now we both know I don't need to whisk you away upstairs to have my wicked way with you.'
Draco slapped his arm and then did up his flies. 'Someone might have walked in on you doing that!'
'Lucky them!'
'Harry! My mother is staying,' and he half-heartedly slapped Harry's arm again.
'You can stop beating me up, I locked the door!' Harry grinned.
'Oh!'
There was a small pop! beside them as Ossy appeared.
'Or one of the House-Elves might have been greeted by an unwelcome sight...' he smacked Harry's arm again.
'Oh no, Master Draco, we is knowing not to go in a room whenever the masters is having sex,' Ossy said seriously. 'We is always waiting until they finish. It would be most improper to interrupt.'
Harry burst out laughing at the propriety of House-Elves and Draco's clear embarrassment. Draco smacked his arm again for good measure.
'Abuse! Abuse!' Harry laughed, barely able to contain himself from doubling over.
'Was there something in particular that you wanted, Ossy,' said Draco haughtily.
'Yes, Master Draco. Mr Zabini is waiting for you in the Great Hall. Can we clear the breakfast things now, Master Harry?'
'Of course, Ossy. Dray, I'll be up on the gallery finishing the portraits when you want to find me. Can I leave you to explain everything to Blaise? And get him to take a Secrecy Vow.'
'What if he won't?'
'Tell him I'll track him down and Obliviate every last memory of his sex life out of him...'
Harry skipped out before he received another slap to his arm.
Blaise and Draco found him some half-hour later.
Draco snagged a quick kiss and said, 'I'll leave you to it, I need to pop out and then I promised I'd help Mione.'
'Potter,' Blaise said.
'Blaise,' Harry smiled welcomingly. 'How are you?'
He thought Blaise looked too cool for school, but then he always had. And there he was, towering over Harry in his skinny black jeans and his grey, loose neck t-shirt beneath an open black shirt revealing smooth dark skin. There was still something very aloof about him but maybe that was because he was a Slytherin and one of Draco's inner circle. Harry mentally chided himself; Draco and Pansy had defied his assumptions about Slytherins and he was, himself, so nearly one. He could have been in Draco's inner circle too if he hadn't argued with the Hat. He couldn't imagine him being cool and aloof so maybe it was just perceptions. Harry took a deep breath and let go of his assumptions.
Harry looked down because he felt a tugging on his trousers. 'Ah! Can I introduce you to Teddy, my Godson, well, son now? Teddy, this is Blaise, Draco's bestfriend. Blaise, Teddy...'
Teddy held out his hand formally.
'Hello, young man,' Blaise muttered. 'What charming manners.'
'Hello. I like your hands,' Teddy said, holding on to it and inspecting Blaise's fingers closely. Blaise submitted to having his hand twisted back and forth. 'Da says you're a painter, did you learn that at Hogwarts?'
'Yes, I took extra-curriculum classes, until the end of sixth year anyway, but I always liked drawing. Because your... Da...' he looked at Harry quizzically, '...changed things, it meant I was able to go to a Muggle Art College and do a Degree and then a Masters in Fine Art.'
'Oh. I drew a picture of Hercules; do you want to see? I've got lots of colouring things in my bedroom. My dad drew things too. Ammy says that we should have a room especially for my pictures... Da, can I show Blaise round the castle? And he needs to meet Hercules... that's Hercules there, he's Da's dog... are you going to paint Hercules too...?'
'Teddy, take a breath and give Blaise a chance to speak. Sorry, Blaise, he gets like this if he likes someone,' Harry smiled.
'Well, I'm glad I've made a good impression on someone.'
Ah, Harry thought, despite his cool demeanour, he's nervous. 'Draco said he asked you to bring a portfolio. Shall we grab a coffee and have a look?'
'Sure,' Blaise said and he glanced down at the various people milling around in the hall below, moving books and chatting. Harry saw the brief look of insecurity in his deep brown eyes. He fiddled nervously with the chain he wore around his neck.
Harry smiled reassuringly. 'We'll go somewhere more private, if you prefer. Must be odd, having to show your work, it must seem rather personal.'
'It's a bit strange and, yes, it does raise the insecurities. Art is so personal and subjective, not everyone likes the same thing.'
'I'll be openminded, did Dray say that I'm not exactly enamoured with this whole thing? Apparently, it's a necessity.'
'He said,' there was a quiet smile on Blaise's face and Harry wondered if he had always been like this, probably a very calming influence, especially when Dray was in the thick of it and Pansy was being all dramatic. Yes, he could see how this odd trio fitted together, far easier than Goyle and Crabbe with Dray.
'Teddy, are we done here?'
'What, Da?'
'It's pardon. Have we finished hanging all the pictures?'
'Yep.' Teddy was still holding onto Blaise, looking up at him with open admiration.
Harry's lips twitched in amusement. 'What about that little portrait there?'
'Oh...' He clearly didn't want to let go of his new-found friend.
'It's okay, Champ, I'll get it. If Blaise doesn't mind you hanging onto him like a limpet.'
'It's fine,' Blaise said, looking slightly embarrassed. 'Tell you what, Teddy, we'll help direct your Da. Where's this last one going?'
'What's a limpet, Da?'
'A very specific small cuddly boy who doesn't let go of strangers. Who've we got here then?' Harry looked at the woman in the small oval portrait. The painting looked early-Victorian and the woman was very pretty in an empire-line dress and curling dark hair.
'She said her name is Rebecca Potter.'
'Another Potter, eh? Well, there's a surprise!'
'Actually, young man, I married Valentine Urquart,' said the lady with a charming smile.
'Oh! You're Henry's sister and mum's mother-in-law, she told me about you. A pleasure to meet you.'
'And you, Harry. I would be pleased to see Minerva again.'
'I'll tell her I've found you. Teddy, this is Grandma Minnie's mother-in-law... which sort of means you're my grandmother.' Harry gulped at the sudden connection. 'Oh!' he said softly, feeling a little lump in his throat. 'Hello, grandma.'
'Hello, Harry,' she smiled. 'That's rather special, isn't it?'
'Yes. Where shall we put you? Teddy, what do you think? Rebecca is your great-grandma...'
'Definitely somewhere where I can talk to her... she's very pretty,' Teddy said, holding up his arms so Blaise could pick him up.
Blaise swung him up into his arms and they walked down the gallery together. 'How about here?' he suggested.
'Yes,' said Teddy in approval, 'but I'll have to keep moving the stool so I can talk to her and Mr Godric.'
'I'll get Grandma Minnie to transfigure you a matching stool so you can have one on each side of the gallery.'
As Harry hung the final portrait, Teddy directed Blaise through the portraits he liked.
'It's quite a collection, Potter.'
'You can call me Harry, you know. Overwhelmingly. Everything's a bit of a mess here. I'm trying to get it all in order. Hebe, she's the one helping sort the library collection, she suggested we turned this area into a gallery of all the ancestors. The portraits were everywhere, hidden in rooms and boxes as well as all around the hall. It's nice to have something sorted. These last few months have been bonkers, especially with my magic and inheriting all this,' Harry suddenly felt very embarrassed, remembering he had a title. 'Still, I found Dray amongst it all. I assume he told you that too?'
'He might have mentioned it once or twice. Even before you were together. He talked about you quite a lot on his birthday,' Blaise was smirking. 'But nothing new there...'
Harry felt delighted and didn't bother to hide his smile. 'Come on then. We'll go down to the dining room and you can show me what you've got.'
'Potter... Harry,' Blaise said quietly. 'I'm sorry. You know, for everything at school.'
Harry was surprised. 'Blaise, you haven't got any need to apologise. You weren't exactly...' he looked at Teddy, slightly wary that this wasn't really a conversation for young ears who might misinterpret what was being said. '...one of them. But even you and I know that doesn't mean anything because Dray was caught up in the worst of it and he wasn't either, not really, not at heart...'
'No, it was a terrible time. But I could have made more effort, not to be so... you know...'
'I'm sure some would argue that we all could have made more effort but things were as they were. It's happened and all in the past now. As you said, it was a terrible time, for all of us, and there were a lot of wrong assumptions back then. But it was also about survival and doing what we could...'
'...you did more than most...'
'...I did what I had to. The reality was that there wasn't much choice. We know what my failure would've meant. I know it was the same for Dray. And I'm sure it was the same for everyone else. Besides, you showed your true self when it mattered most. I haven't forgotten that it was you who stepped forward and suggested protecting the younger years. So, we let it go and move onwards. And I apologise too for any prejudices I might have built against Slytherin House, none of it was helpful. As I say, it's in the past now.'
Blaise smiled, properly, his anxieties visibly falling away.
Harry was pleasantly surprised. And once Blaise was certain that Harry wasn't going to reject his art too, he relaxed completely. As soon as Harry saw Blaise's self-portrait in pencil, he agreed that Blaise should carry out the commissions.
'You can leave your portfolio here for the moment, though I suggest you lock it away with a ward otherwise you might find dirty little fingerprints all over your beautiful artwork. How do you want to do this? I'm not very good at sitting still and I really don't want stuffy formal. And there're the others too. Minerva, Sirius Black, my parents, Remus and Tonks. Some will have to be from photographs and I'm not sure what order...'
'We'll start with you.'
'If we must,' Harry grimaced. 'And we need to talk about cost.'
'We'll talk about price later,' said Blaise, again that slight nervousness creeping in. 'How about I just follow you about for the moment with a sketchbook and I've brought my camera so I can take some photos too. And I'll probably ask lots of questions, as a way of getting to know you better and understanding your character.'
'Did Dray mention that there's a certain amount of urgency?'
'Yes, he, erm, suggested that I might be able to set up a temporary studio here...'
'Brilliant idea! It's not like I haven't got the space. Do you have a studio in London?'
'No... I only qualified in June so I'm still setting up. I just use my bedsit. To be honest, your pieces are going to be my first formal commission and first pieces outside St Martins.'
'Right, well, we'll definitely find you space and you're welcome to board and lodge, so to speak, plenty of bedrooms. We'll have an explore later and find you a studio space but I've promised to help Minnie, Narcissa, and Dromeda with a tapestry, so that's the next place to stop. There is so much to do... so much to sort through...'
As they walked through the main hall, the Floo flared into life and Neville and Hannah stepped through.
Harry gave his friend a firm hug but Neville pulled him to one side.
'Harry, sorry to intrude. I brought Hannah along so we could help. It's... I needed to see you too. Something came up at work yesterday,' Nev spoke in a low quiet voice that reeked of concern and immediately caused the hairs on the back of Harry's neck to stand on end. 'An informant has come forward. You know we've been stopping various members of Voldemort's inner circle as they re-enter the country. You need to know the Carrows have slipped through the net. They've made it in somehow and have gone to ground.'
'Do we know where they've been at all?'
'They were in York. Definitely them, there's been a Muggle murder, their M.O. but there was also a witness. Description's match.'
'I'll come in on Monday.'
'You know you can't. I'll keep you in the loop. We think they won't remain hidden long. We know what we're doing after Rowle and Mulciber and we've set up watches on the old properties.'
'Including the ones that were razed to the ground?'
'Especially those.'
'It sounds like there's a gathering occurring,' Harry said, decidedly worried.
***