Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Over the next few weeks, Harry and Draco found themselves the subjects of school gossip. Rumors, no doubt started by Hermione, had led many students to believe that Harry and Draco were the chosen ones in the Sorting Hat’s Prophecy. Because of this, a good number of students had decided to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, which put Hermione in a foul mood.

“But how are we going to get any work done?” She snapped one evening in the common room, stacks of parchment piled high over her head. Nobody dared to answer her.

Luckily, an invitation to spend the holidays at the Burrow made everything right again. On the last day before break, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, spent a good part of the day packing for their stay. Hermione could be seen crawling around the common room, searching for any forgotten books, while Ron and Ginny were using “Accio!” to call forth any lost pieces of Ton-Tongue Toffee and Blubber Bubble Gum. Harry, who had simply tossed several shirts and pants into a bag, decided to take a break from the madness.

Harry wandered through the castle, his steps not aimed towards any particular place. Nevertheless, Harry somehow found himself standing outside the Potion Master’s office, his hand poised to knock. The door swung open without warning to reveal Draco standing in the doorway, a look of surprise on his pale face.

“Harry,” he said blankly. He turned to Snape, who was seated behind his desk. “You didn’t tell me he was coming.”

Snape’s eyes moved over both boys, his expression as unreadable as ever. “I didn’t know. Move aside, Draco, so Potter can come in.” Draco obediently moved aside so Harry could enter. Harry took a chair across from Snape while Draco hovered awkwardly by the door. “Should I leave?”

“No,” Harry said. “You can stay.” Draco took a seat near Harry and looked at him expectantly. “So what are you doing here?” He asked.

“I’d like to know that myself,” Snape said silkily. “Whatever did I do to deserve such an honor?”

Harry frowned, unsure of what to say, when suddenly the words he wanted to say came tumbling out. “I want to see my cousin. Dudley. He’s been in St. Mungo’s Hospital since the attack last summer. Dumbledore said he’d probably be out after Christmas, and, well, I want to see him. And since I never go back to the Dursleys’ house for Christmas holiday, I need to see him before we get out--.”

“Yes, I understand the situation, Potter,” Snape broke in smoothly. “But why do you want to see him? According to reports, the two of you never got along, and in fact, have always despised one another.”

“It’s my fault he’s there. It’s my fault that he had a break down, and I haven’t been to see him since he’s been in St. Mungo’s. Not once.”

Draco turned his face towards the stone wall. “It wasn’t your fault, Harry. In fact, if you want to blame anyone, I’m guiltier than you.” He turned his face slowly back towards Harry. “I knew what would happen when we came to Privet Drive. I knew that people would get hurt, and I did nothing to stop it.”

“But--”

“It isn’t anybody’s fault,” Snape interrupted. “And I’m not going to give you permission to leave school to see him, Potter. It’s too dangerous.”

“Not if you come along as my chaperone,” Harry said stubbornly.

“Which I will most certainly not agree to.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I don’t see that you have much of a choice.”

Time stood still for one terrifying moment before Snape cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Potter? That almost sounded like a threat.”

Harry’s mouth opened and shut several times, and Draco reached over and slapped him on the shoulder. “Breathe,” he commanded. Harry took a deep breathe and looked squarely at Snape. “You gave me veritaserum, which, as you know, is highly illegal. The Ministry could put you in Azkaban for that.” Snape’s eyes went dangerously thin, and Harry hurriedly went on. “But if you agree to go with me to St. Mungo’s, I’ll never say a word. Tonight, just for an hour. It wouldn’t take long, I promise.”

Beside him, Draco looked impressed. “Are you blackmailing Snape?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Because I don’t think that’s a very good idea, although you do get points for the effort.”

“When do you wish to go?”

The question made both Harry and Draco stare at Snape in amazement. Snape’s lip curled impatiently. “I asked you a question, Potter. When do you wish to go?”

Harry looked at Snape uncertainly. “I was kind of thinking now.”

ooooooooooooooo

After bidding good-bye to Draco, Snape and Harry set off for St. Mungo’s Hospital. Snape had decided they would apparate, and had insisted that Harry bring his invisibility cloak. They walked down the drive to Hogsmeade, and once they were beyond the gates of Hogwarts, Harry and Snape apparated to London.

Harry blinked and found himself standing in front of the store window he knew to be the entrance to St. Mungo’s. “We’re here to see a patient,” Snape announced to the mannequin in the window. The mannequin gave a slight nod, prompting Snape to grab Harry’s elbow and pull him through the window and into the hospital beyond. Last time Harry had visited, the lobby had been overflowing with witches and wizards in need of help, but now the lobby was oddly deserted.

Snape propelled Harry past the blonde receptionist and ushered him into the elevator. Harry didn’t need to watch as Snape pressed the button they needed, because he already knew where they were going. They were going to the same ward Arthur Weasley had been in last year. The ward for long-term patients, like Neville’s parents.

When they reached the correct floor, Harry stepped out of the lift, and turned to find that Snape was not following him. “Aren’t you coming?” He asked.

“No. I’ll wait for you in the tea shoppe.” Then the door slid shut, and Harry was left alone to face the door to Dudley’s ward. He hesitated for only a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The ward looked almost exactly the same. Christmas decorations were everywhere, trying valiantly to bring some life to the place. The curtains that had been around the Longbottoms’ bed were gone, and Harry could see that both of Neville’s parents were sleeping. Harry took a moment to study Neville’s father, trying to see any trace of Neville that might be in his face. A voice intruded on his thoughts.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry turned to his left and saw Dudley sitting up in bed, reading a copy of “Martin Miggs: the Mad Muggle,” the comic series that Ron liked so much. Harry approached Dudley’s bed cautiously and took a seat near the lamp. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Dudley repeated.

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

Harry let his eyes roam over the decorations in order to avoid Dudley’s sharp gaze. “I don’t know.” Dudley sighed and tossed the comic book down. Harry followed it with his eyes. “My friend Ron collects that series,” he said.

A look of surprise crossed Dudley’s features. “Yeah, it’s pretty good. One of the nurses brought it for me. Martin Miggs. The Mad Muggle. Have you read any of them?”

“Not yet. Ron keeps telling me I should.”

“Is Ron one of the boys who came through our fireplace a couple years ago?”

Harry nodded. “The one who wasn’t a twin. That was Ron.”

“Huh.” Dudley pulled a sack of licorice wands from his night table drawer. He took one for himself and tossed the bag into Harry’s lap. “Have one,” he said, taking a bite and smiling. “They’re delicious.”

Licorice wands had never been one of Harry’s favorites, but he took one anyway. “Where did you get these?”

“A boy came in here a few months ago to visit his parents, the ones down there at the far end. At the time, I couldn’t talk or anything, but he sat with me for a few minutes, told me about his parents and all that. Every couple of weeks or so he sends me a package of candy or tricks. I don’t know why. Just to be nice, I guess. He wrote to say he’d be coming by for Christmas, so I suppose I’ll be seeing him again.”

Harry sat back, stunned. “That was Neville. He goes to my school. We live in the same dormitory, actually.”

Dudley looked interested. “You know Neville? I hadn’t even thought about whether you might.” He paused. “To be honest with you, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“I didn’t think so either.”

“My parents haven’t even been to see me, you know.”

“What?” Harry leaned forward. “They haven’t?”

Dudley shook his head. “No. I don’t think they want anything to do with me now.”

“Of course they do. They’ll be coming to get you soon.”

“No they won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not getting released after Christmas.”

Harry struggled to find something to say. “But you seem so much better. I mean, don’t you want to go home?”

“Actually,” Dudley said, taking another bite of licorice. “I don’t. I don’t ever want to go back.”

“I’m not sure you have a choice, Dud. What else can you do?”

Dudley clasped his hands in his lap. “I’ve been talking to a Muggle Liaison from the Ministry,” he said eagerly, “And they might let me stay and work for them. The liaison said that they haven’t had a muggle in the Ministry for nearly a century, so I’d be welcome enough. But I’d have to have enchantments, or spells, or some nonsense like that put on me so I couldn’t betray them to Voldie Whatever or the muggle world. I mean, I wouldn’t be a real employee right away. I’d have to have training. But, I don’t know, what do you think?”

For a long minute, Harry couldn’t speak. Conflicting emotions were at war in his heart, and in his head. At last, he was able to get out a sentence. “But what about your family?”

Dudley snorted. “What family? I told you they haven’t been to visit. Mom wrote once, but never again. Don’t you get it? They don’t want me anymore. They’re afraid of me. Afraid I’ve gone crazy. Nothing’s been the same since the dementoids--

“Dementors.”

“Right, since the dementors attacked us that summer. And after this last attack, well, I guess that was the last straw.” Dudley looked determinedly at the floor. “My dad thinks I’ve been contaminated somehow. That I’ve become a freak.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not a wizard. You don’t have any magical abilities.”

“I know. I’m just telling you what he thinks.”

Harry stared hard at his cousin, at the cousin he had hated for most of his life. “Do you really want to stay, or are you just afraid of going back?” He asked.

Dudley raised his eyes from the floor. “Both, I guess. You may not realize it, but I’ve been here for a long time now, Harry. I’ve been living in your world since summer. And you know what? I like it. I really do.”

“Yes, but is that reason enough to stay? To work for the Ministry?”

“I just know I can’t go back. That I don’t want to.”

Harry was saved the trouble of replying by a short, staccato knock on the ward door. He looked up to see Snape looking into the room. He rose from his chair and laid the sack of licorice on the night table. “I have to go.”

“Will you be back?”

Harry looked down at Dudley, who was for the first time in his life, vulnerable, living in a strange world among strange people. A feeling of pity arose in his throat. “Of course.” Harry walked to the door and paused, his hand on the handle. “Dudley,” he said suddenly. “What did you see?”

“What?”

“Dementors cause a person to relive the worst moments of their life. That night we were attacked by dementors, what did you see?”

Dudley’s face drained of all color. “That was the worst night of my life,” he said slowly. “And I don’t want to think about it ever again. Please don’t ask me to remember. Please.”

“Okay, Dud,” Harry said softly. “Okay.”

oooooooooooooo

The journey back to Hogwarts was passed in complete silence. As Harry and Snape made their way up to the castle, Harry felt numb. He didn’t know how he should feel right now, about anything. Too much was happening. Too much to process. He and Snape walked up the stone steps of Hogwarts and pushed open the oak doors to the main hall. Harry paused at the bottom of the marble staircase to watch Snape descend into the dungeons. “Thank you.”

Snape nodded, not stopping on his way down the stairs. “You’re welcome, Potter, but don’t ever blackmail me again.”

“Yes sir.”

oooooooooooooo

“I can’t believe you got away with it,” Draco said, spooning some eggs onto Harry’s plate. “Nobody pulls one over on Snape. Nobody.”

Harry scowled. “To be fair, he did slip me veritaserum.”

“Good point. How did it feel, anyway?”

“Terrible. I couldn’t shut-up.”

Draco grinned. “I would’ve loved to hear you. Bet it was funny.”

“Not really.”

Ginny and Ron took a seat at the breakfast table, Ron immediately reaching for a platter of sausages. “What’re you two talking about?” Ginny asked, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. “Christmas plans?” She reached for a roll. “Harry, are you packed yet? We’re leaving for the Burrow right after breakfast.”

“What?” Draco looked confounded. “You’re leaving?”

Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. “I just found out yesterday,” he said. “I was going to talk to you about it.”

“Oh. Well, have fun.”

“Wait, Draco, I was going to tell you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does.”

“Forget it.”

“No.” Harry looked across the table at Ginny and Ron, who were openly watching the public spectacle that Draco and Harry were rapidly creating. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

Draco grabbed a slice of toast and hopped up from the table. “Fine.” Harry scrambled after him, catching him outside the Great Hall. “Where do you want to go?”

“The kitchens. I’m still hungry.”

“Okay.”

Harry and Draco made their way down to the kitchens, Harry tickling the pear to get them inside. Once inside, both boys were overwhelmed by a myriad of pleasant smells. A dozen house elves surrounded them instantly, offering them everything from hot chocolate to sirloin steak. Draco accepted a bowl of porridge and a cup of hot tea, and Harry led the way to the couch in the back corner, which was currently overshadowed by a large Christmas tree.

Once they were seated, Draco nervously took a sip of tea. “Well? What are we doing here, Potter?”

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Staying here. I can’t exactly go home, now, can I?”

Harry felt a sinking sensation in the area of his stomach. “I hadn’t thought, I mean, I didn’t think--”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I’ll be alone.”

“Yes you will. I won’t be here.”

Draco blew on his porridge. “You’re not my only friend, Potter. I have others.”

Harry studied his friend, his friend that had at one time been a fierce enemy. His friend that now meant as much to him as anyone else in his life. It only took a split second to decide. “I’m staying.”

“Staying where?”

“Here. For Christmas. I’m not going to the Burrow.

Draco stopped blowing on his porridge. “Oh yes you are. I won’t let you stay for me.”

“It’s not really your decision.”

“You have to go to the Burrow. You go every year.”

Harry smiled. “They can do without me for one year. This is our first Christmas as friends, and we’re going to spend it together.”

“Harry--”

“You can’t talk me out of it. I’m staying.”

Draco shook his head. “Think about this. You get to see me all the time. Think about the people you never get to see, like Lupin--”

“He’s bringing a werewolf friend with him. I think I met him last year at St. Mungo’s.”

“--Ron’s brothers--”

“--Did you know Bill’s engaged to Fleur?”

“--and Tonks. I know you want to see her.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but she’s bringing Snape, so maybe its better that I don’t go. Who knows what’s going to happen? Snape and the Weasleys have never been best friends. So it’s settled. I’m staying.”

Draco tried to look nonchalant, but Harry could sense his inner glee. “I guess it’s okay if you stay. But really, I was hoping you’d get Krum’s autograph for me.”

“I don’t think I would’ve had the chance,” Harry laughed. “I’m betting Ron tries to do away with him the first day he gets here. Afraid of the competition, I think.”

“You give Weasel too much credit,” Draco smirked. “He’s more bark than bite.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Ron really doesn’t like him.”

“And I really don’t like Ron. So it all works out nicely.”

Harry stood up and stretched. “Oh, be quiet. Finish your porridge. I’ll go tell everyone the news and say good-bye to Hagrid.”

“Where’s Hagrid going?”

“To visit a certain Headmistress in France.”

Draco groaned theatrically. “A match made in Heaven. Thanks for the mental picture.”

Harry took a short bow. “A pleasure. See you later.”

“See you.”

ooooooooooooooo

Christmas break did not begin well. Ron was furious that Harry had opted to stay at the castle with Draco rather than go to the Burrow, and Hermione and Ginny, although not as vocal, were upset as well. But after everyone had gone on their way, the castle was quiet. Very few students had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays, so Draco and Harry nearly had the place to themselves. Only one other Slytherin had stayed, so Harry and Draco spent most of their time in the Slytherin common room. The days passed in a peaceful haze, and Harry would look back on this Christmas as one of the best he had ever had.

Students began trickling back to Hogwarts a few days after Christmas, full of stories about how their vacation was spent, full of stories about family and friends. And although their return marked the end of Harry’s restful break, he was glad to see them back. But the best part was that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny seemed to have forgiven him in the spirit of Christmas. They came back happy and bright-eyed, with gossip about Snape and Tonks, which Harry wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear, and news of Fred and George’s new products.

Everyone was so cheerful and full of good spirits that no one saw it coming, and afterwards, no one was even sure how it had happened. After all, Hogwarts was supposed to be protected from the Death Eaters. And from Voldemort.

ooooooooooooooo

It was mid-morning on a Saturday in January, when most of the students were gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast. Almost nobody was on guard, too engrossed in conversations about the weekend, and possible trips to Hogsmeade, to be paying attention to anything else.

Even after the first purple flash had knocked out half of the Ravenclaws, nobody was sure what was happening. There was a wave of nervous laughter, followed by a chorus of screams as dozens upon dozens of Death Eaters apparated into the Great Hall. Harry went rigid for a millisecond, a piece of bacon just inches from his lips. Then he was moving, tossing the bacon aside and reaching for his wand.

He aimed at the nearest Death Eater, dimly aware of Draco at his side, doing the same thing. He aimed for Death Eaters with their backs to him, and had stunned a handful before he was forced to take shelter from a “Crucio!” aimed at him by a Death Eater clear across the room.

The Death Eater aimed a second curse at Draco, who ducked just in time, never taking his eyes off the cloaked figure. The Death Eater waved at Draco, and slowly removed his mask. “Father.” The word fell unwillingly from Draco’s lips, and before Harry could move to stop him, Draco was off and running through the maze of duelers, heading straight for his father, his wand ready to cause maximum damage.

Harry almost followed him, but was stopped short at the sight of Bellatrix advancing on Neville, who was slowly being backed into a corner. Praying that he would be able to apparate as the enemy had, Harry blinked, and found himself suddenly standing directly behind Bellatrix. Without thinking, he bellowed the only curse that seemed fitting. “Crucio!”

Bellatrix screamed in pain and fell to the ground, and Neville ran around her to join Harry. By that time, Bellatrix was already climbing to her feet, pain and anger stamped on her face. “You shouldn’t play with such curses, Potty wee Potter,” she said softly, “When you don’t understand their power.” And with that she came forward, curse after curse falling from her lips.

Harry and Neville stood shoulder to shoulder, fighting back with every jinx, curse, and spell they had ever learned. The duel went on and on, with no end in sight. Finally Harry managed to penetrate Bellatrix’s shield charm with a powerful Jelly Legs Jinx. At the moment his jinx landed, Harry looked up to see Lucius and Draco dueling right out of the Great Hall and into the Main Hall beyond.

“Go,” Neville said, his eyes never leaving Bellatrix. “Go if he needs you. I can take it from here.”

And without answering, without arguing, Harry spun on his heel and sprinted across the hall, blasting his way through Death Eaters until he finally reached the open door, where he nearly tripped over a rat that was being chased by none other than Remus Lupin. There was a flash of green light, and the rat was stopped in his tracks.

Harry didn’t stop to see if Pettigrew was truly dead, but instead went sliding through the door into the Main Hall. He froze at the sight before him. Draco was lying halfway up the marble staircase, unconscious, his father standing below, preparing to finish his son. He raised his wand…

“STUPEFY!” Harry roared. Lucius half-turned to meet the spell, the force of which was so strong it blasted him up the staircase, just feet from his son. His head hit the marble and he was still. Harry raced up the steps, kicking Lucius out of his way, and knelt beside Draco. His fingers ran through the silky white hair, now matted with blood. “Draco? Draco? Wake up! Please! Draco?”

Unsure of what he should do, Harry bent over Draco, thinking it might be best to move him further from harm’s way. His hands grasped Draco’s arms, but then a high, cold voice spoke from behind.

“The end is near, Harry Potter. In fact, the end is here.” Harry turned to face the inevitable sight of the terrible man below. “We end this now, here, where you will die once and for all.”

Harry couldn’t think. “What did he do to him?” He asked. “What spell did Lucius use on Draco? Will he live? Is he already dead?”

Voldemort took a few more steps across the Entrance Hall, and Harry moved down to meet him. “Is that all you can ask?” Voldemort sneered. “I’m about to kill you and all you want to know is whether or not your friend will die.”

“He better not die.”

“I hope that wasn’t a threat, Potter. I don’t take to them very kindly.”

“That’s too bad,” Harry said, his mind clicking back into gear. “How did you get in, anyway? You shouldn’t be able to apparate here. Hogwarts is supposed to be protected from you.”

Voldemort smiled humorlessly. “Your home on Privet Drive was supposed to be protected from me as well. But as you found out, no protection is foolproof. No ward is impenetrable. And now, on the day I defeat you, I will conquer Hogwarts as well. The only place that ever felt like home.”

“Hogwarts is my home now,” Harry said, raising his wand. “And I won’t let you take it.”

“We’ll see.” Voldemort whipped his wand from his robes and sent a spell at Harry without saying a word. Harry blocked it (Protego!), and sent a curse back to Voldemort using his wandless left hand. Voldemort looked shocked for a split-second before retaliating. And for the second time, the spells of the brother wands met in mid-air and splintered, creating a golden dome over the two duelers.

Both Voldemort and Harry knew what was happening, and both knew that to lose this battle was to die. Harry felt his wand begin to vibrate, and the warmth from the connecting beam of light spread through his fingers. The warmth became uncomfortable, and his wand began to shake harder.

Harry thought about how much there was to lose with this one battle. Not only his life, but the lives of those he held dear. His friends and peers in the Great Hall, fighting to protect their school, would most likely perish. Hogwarts would be gone. The wizarding world would never be the same. And if Harry lost, he would be letting down his friend, his pale, beautiful, arrogant friend, who was currently dead or dying on the marble staircase just yards away.

“NO!” Harry shouted, concentrating as he never had before. He focused with every part of his body, focused on pushing that bead of light back to Voldemort’s side. The warmth receded from his fingers, and Harry closed his eyes, pushing the bead all the way to the other side, where it connected with Voldemort’s wand.

Again, Harry knew what to expect, but it was still a shocking and horrifying spectacle, as ghost after ghost came out of Voldemort’s wand, as the echoes of hexes and curses and spells came rushing out of the wand to hang in the air like fog. Harry thought it might never end; it seemed to stretch on and on and on.

At last, there came a man from the end of Voldemort’s wand, a man who was tall and handsome, with wavy black hair. Somehow, Harry knew who it was. Tom Marvolo Riddle. The shadow of Voldemort’s father stood tall and looked down on the son who had murdered him, sneering. “I knew you would be a freak,” he said, “When your mother told me what she was. I knew.”

Voldemort trembled as all of his past victims crowded closer to him. “Wait--,” he tried to say, but it was too late. The multitude of shadows piled atop Voldemort, bringing him down to the floor, where Harry could no longer see him through the smoky figures. There was shrieking and spitting and guttural sounds, and then suddenly, the figures faded, and Harry could see Voldemort again. He was stretched out on the floor, motionless, his open eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Harry bent over and tentatively felt for a pulse on Voldemort’s white wrist. A pulse, faint and erratic, met his fingers, and he stood, unsure of what to do. He looked around the hall, and at the marble staircase, where Draco still lay. One gray eye opened and blinked. The gray eye looked down on Voldemort, and then at Harry. It seemed tired. Draco’s eye closed again, and Harry knew he had to act now, before he lost his nerve.

“Accio sword!” He yelled. Moments later, the sword of Gryffindor was in his hand, its weight solid and comforting. And remembering Draco’s tired gray eye, and his slight nod, as if telling Harry to finish it, Harry brought the sword up over his head with both hands, and swung it down at Voldemort’s head with as much strength as he could summon. The sword went through skin and bone, severing the head.

The last sight Harry saw before blacking out was Dumbledore suddenly appearing at his side, an expression of grave approval on his face.

oooooooooooooo

The raucous wedding reception could be heard even in the Department of Mysteries, in the large room where Harry sat on a stone bench, staring at the archway in the middle of the room, its veil fluttering slightly in the non-existent breeze. Despite the noise from above, Harry thought he could hear a slight murmuring coming from the veil. He wanted to investigate, but memories of Sirius’ death kept him from coming too near the veil. “Harry,” came a slight whisper.

Harry sat up straighter. “Who’s there?”

“Harry…”

“Who’s there?”

“It’s just me, Harry,” said a voice from behind. Harry turned to watch Ginny come down the stone steps. “What are you doing down here?” She asked. “Everybody’s looking for you.”

Harry stood up. “How did you find me?” He asked.

Ginny smiled gently. “Dumbledore thought I should check here. That man knows everything.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen,” Ginny said, moving closer and taking Harry’s hand. “All I really want to say is that…well, I think he’s going to make it. Draco’s not going to die.” At the sound of Draco’s name, Harry tried to pull away, but Ginny held firm. “He’s going to make it, so you need to stop moping about. Any minute now, Draco’s going to snap out of it. He’ll be as good as new.”

Ginny released Harry’s hand and moved up the stone steps towards the door. “Come up when you’re ready, Harry,” she said, “We’re all waiting for you.”

And with that, Ginny disappeared from the room, leaving Harry alone once more. Brooding, he turned to stare at the fluttering veil, and again came that faint whisper of his name. “Harry…”

Harry moved closer to the veil and leaned towards it, being careful not to touch it. The voice came again, and this time Harry recognized it as the voice of his godfather. “Harry…”

“Sirius?”

A laugh, barely audible, reached Harry’s ears. “Yes, Harry. It’s me. Now listen carefully, because I’m on borrowed time, here. Your friend Draco will not die. His spirit was halfway here, but we sent him back.”

“Sent him back from where? And who’s ‘we?’”

“Your parents and I sent him back from the Shadow World. We had to cash in every favor we had, but Draco will live. In fact, he should be waking at any moment.”

Tears stung Harry’s eyes as he watched the curtain. He wanted so badly to pull back the curtain, to catch a glimpse of Sirius’ smiling face. “Sirius…”

Again came that barking laugh, barely audible. “We’re proud of you, Harry. Your parents and I, we’re so proud. And we’ll see you again someday. Perhaps in a century or two…”

That voice, so beloved, faded into nothing, and Harry was left alone again, with nothing but the muffled sounds of the reception above to comfort him. He wiped his streaming eyes on his sleeve, remembering Sirius’s promise. “Your friend Draco will not die…”

And Harry laughed out loud. He laughed because Voldemort was gone. He laughed because he had talked to Sirius again and because his parents were proud of him. But most of all, he laughed because Draco would live. Wiping his eyes a final time, Harry bounded up the steps, eager to get back to Percy and Pennellope’s wedding reception and his friends, and eager to return to St. Mungo’s Hospital, where two young men were awaiting his arrival.

One young man was large and muscular, with thick blonde hair.

The other was slender and pale, and slowly waking up from a deep sleep in which he had met people he had never known before, in which he had almost come to reside in the smoky world of shadows. The young man’s slate gray eyes fluttered open, taking in their surroundings.

He stretched languorously and smiled. He would be getting a visitor soon.