Post-war fic, begins in the first Halloween after the Battle of Hogwarts. Some romance, a little drama, a little adventure, maybe some lemons. After all his pain, a hero deserves a little reward. Harry and Fleur endgame, maybe someone more. I don't own Harry Potter, or any part of it.

Chapter 1

Harry

I'm walking slowly towards the great hall, feeling both sad and worried. Sad, because it's been seventeen years today since a psychopath murdered my parents. Worried because, ever since, Halloween has been... unlucky. As I approach the ongoing feast, I can smell roast meats mingling with other indistinct, mouthwatering smells. I can also hear the noise of carefree conversation. The monster is dead, almost six months ago. There is still fear. Pureblood bigotry and the fear of muggle power and cleverness still threatens to fracture our world. There are monsters left in the loose, trying to use fear to their own ends. I walk ever slower, trying to find, in my Gryffindor heart, the courage to face friend, foe and everyone else. I'm Harry Potter, eighteen-year-old, dark lord slayer, head of two ancient magical houses, quiddich seeker, Ginny's somewhat reluctant boyfriend and seventh year student of magical arts and crafts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As I step through the doors of the Great Hall, I feel, or hear, a slight pop next to me. I look down at the small figure, about three feet tall, wearing a white apron over a light green dress. She is anxiously wringing her hands. This can't be good. I lower myself to one knee in front of her, and hold her by the shoulders, whispering.

"Calm down, Winky. What is it?"

"Master Harry, Sir. It's Mistress Tonks. She don't get up. She don't eat. Master Teddy cries, and she don't come. She sent me away. She threatens clothes, master. Clothes! I is worried. Can Master come?"

My heart breaks a little. Andromeda has been a pillar of strength, caring for Teddy and helping me through the aftermath. I've been suspecting much of the strength is pride, covering up her own broken spirit. "Of course." I can see how conflicted Winky is about leaving the house and coming here. Her initiative is both unexpected and commendable. "Thank you for warning me. You're a good, clever elf, Winky"

She instantly relaxes and gives me a shy smile. "Thank you, Master Harry."

House elves are powerful beings, but they need their wizards. Not only for the symbiotic magic. There is an element of emotional support they require just as much, for sanity and a measure of happiness.. I squeeze her thin shoulders a bit, in what I hope is a little reassurance. "I'll be there shortly. Go home and take care of Teddy."

She steps back and bows. "Right away, Master Harry."

I stand up and sigh. The room is suddenly silent, so everyone can hear the slight pop as Winky apparates away. I turn to the Gryffindor table, and catch Hermione's eyes. She is showing a bit of concern. I mouth silently to her. "Andy." She nods and mimics a telephone with her hand, meaning "Keep in touch." I nod, look at Ginny and blow her a kiss. She frowns, bothered by my silent dialogue with Hermione. I think Mione and I keep our wordless communication going, at least in part, to annoy the younger Weasleys.

I walk towards the staff table, wondering to myself for the hundredth time why I'm still with Ginny. I actually know the answer perfectly well. I find the fiery little redhead very sexy. Also, I don't want to hurt her and I'm afraid that if I break up with her I'll lose all the Weasleys, including eventually Hermione. The flip side is that I'm not really sure she even likes me. She loves the Riddle-slayer, sure. Broken, burned out, emotionally stunted Harry? Maybe not so much.

"Headmistress."

"What is it, Mr. Potter?"

"I need to leave the grounds. Family business." There is a specific allowance in the rules for adult students to leave the grounds as needed. As I'm head of house, I'm not even required to disclose the reason.

"Do you know when you'll be back?"

"Breakfast tomorrow, I hope."

She purses her lips, clearly irritated by my reticence. I'm not about to expose Andromeda's personal life to the Hogwarts population. "Very well, Mr. Potter. Make sure you let me know if you need more time."

I nod. "By your leave, Headmistress."

Without waiting for an answer, I turn around and walk fast towards the double doors. I hear her mumbling behind me. "Just get out of here you insufferable..." the remainder of her sentence is drowned by the noise of resumed conversation.

Ahead, a small redhead stands on my way, perky b-cups pushed out under the robes, her delicate fists planted firmly on her hips, eyes ablaze. I feel my hormones reacting. Sexy indeed. "Harry James mhpf..." I grab her by the waist, using my own momentum to turn her around and bend her back, as I hold the back of her head and plant a kiss right on her open lips. She stiffens, outraged by my unexpected, and deeply out-of-character forwardness. As my tongue invades her open mouth, she responds, finally forgetting whatever diatribe was about to begin and melting in my arms. Her hands grab the back of my head. She definitely enjoys the kiss. Around us, catcalls and wolf whistles greet our little spectacle.

After about thirty seconds of bliss, I hear a stern voice raised behind me. "Mr. Potter! Such public displays..." I pull away, whisper in Ginny's ear "Bye" and walk out the door at my fastest pace. Action before thought. It should be the Gryffindor motto.

+O+O+O+O+

The Tonks residence is a beautiful muggle home, two-story contemporary-style, with gray roof and white walls with red brick trimmings. It's located in an affluent suburb of Birmingham. At the edge of the front lawn, a line of bushes and a notice-me-not charm hides the apparition point from the street.

I plant my feet, waiting half a second for the knotted feeling from the apparition to fade away. Walking towards the front door, the faint tingling from the wards serves as warning to visitors, specially unwelcome ones. The front door is muggle-locked, and I use my key to let myself in. For months now, this has been my home, at least when I'm away from Hogwarts.

Angry crying greets me. At eight months, Teddy is a strong baby, with mercurial temperament that easily switches from bubbly to stormy and back. Like his mother, he's a full metamorphmagus. He is not a werewolf. I've learned since that such babies always die in the womb, often taking the mother with them. He is clearly moon-touched, though. Keen senses and a wild streak already noticeable even at his young age, plus a nasty temper around the full moon. Not the easiest child to raise. I mutter half-incantations to myself, wondering for the hundredth time what those two idiots were thinking, and thanking heaven for the amazing gift their idiocy left behind.

Next to the kitchen, a small room serves as playroom, with soft plush carpeting, a large bookcase with toys, small plastic furniture and a latch-on gate. Inside, Winky is kneeling next to Teddy, slowly running her fingers through his light green hair. Teddy is alternating between loud angry crying and tired whimpering. I kneel next to them and pick him up. He cuddles up, seeking warmth or the comfort of familiar scent and magic. He buries his face on my chest and sniffles. My voice holds a soft undertone that belong wholly to him. "Hey."

I hold him close and turn to Winky. "When did he eat last?"

She gets up and twists her hands. "Little wolfie is supposed to eat two hours ago, Master Harry. Doesn't take it. Too upset, he was."

"Can you give me a warm bottle, please?"

After feeding, Teddy gets sleepy. I take the time to give him a bath. Then I dress him in an Alice in Chains onesie I found in a muggle shop somewhere. My nod at pleasing his mother, despite Andromeda's unspoken disapproval. He whimpers a bit when I set him down, but soon he is fast asleep, curled around his plush wolf.

I stand over the crib, watching him change into his base form. He looks like Moony, but with the high cheekbones and blade-like nose of the Blacks. Hair a dark chestnut. I'm not sure about his baseline eye color. "Sweet dreams, cub." Six months, and the loss of Moony and Tonks still feels as sharp as a diffindo to the gut.

I cover Teddy with a light blanket and run my fingers lightly through his hair. Magical children need the physical contact with their parents, even more than muggles, to encourage and smooth out their magical development, or so I've read.

I close the nursery door behind me and cross the corridor to Andromeda's door. I knock lightly. "It's Harry."

A gravelly growl is the only reply I get. I open the door slowly, wand in hand. I'm greeted by the red flash of a silent, overpowered Stupefy, followed almost instantly by flying ropes. I dodge the stunner and cast a diffindo, cutting the ropes. I dodge another spell, a nasty-looking purple curse, and cast a quick summoner at Andromeda's wand, which slips her fingers and flies into my hand.

We stare at each other. Her angry gray eyes remind me of Sirius when I first met him, after nearly a dozen years of Azkaban. Skin and bone, disheveled black hair, dirty... still quite beautiful, and way too much like her insane sister. A fancy silk black nightgown, scuffed and worn. Her hands half-curled, broken fingernails with a bit of leftover red polish, looking like bloody claws.

Her anger and her magic swirl around the stinking room like a dark miasma. The strong resemblance to Bellatrix adds a sliver of fear to my concern. Sirius told me once that Black blood comes with many gifts and a dollop of madness. I place my wand back in the wrist holster and twirl her wand around my fingers. As it often happens with wands acquired in combat, it feels like it would serve me willingly.

Her eyes follow the wand. She hisses "Give it back!" I cast a silent incarcerous, shaping the magic to tie her hands to the headboard.

I walk forward, and sit down at the edge of the bed. "You stink."

She growls, as she fights the bonds. "Get out, you pathetic little boy! And take the little monster and the stupid house elf with you. I want you all out of my house!"

I sigh. This is getting worse. "Winky."

She pops next to me, staring at Andromeda with a mixture of fear and sadness. "Master Harry?"

"Do we have draught of peace and dreamless sleep potion in the house?"

Andromeda continues growling and struggling. She might end up hurting herself, so I cast a very weak stunner, just enough to slow her down. "No potions in the house, Master."

"Please, go to Portagee Potions and buy seven doses of each. Get also a dozen nutrient potions. Use the Black vault for money."

She bows. "Right away, Master."

The effect of the stunner dissipates before Winky comes back. Her voice has become girlish. "Mommy?" She seems lost. I read in one of the auror manuals that stunning people with mental problems should be avoided, because it can make them worse.

I touch her ankle. "Your mommy is not here, Andromeda."

She blinks, looking wide-eyed at me. "Who are you?" "I'm Harry."

She checks me out and giggles. "No you're not." I shake my head at the creepy dissonance. Andromeda is used to hiding her soft heart with sharp words and cold demeanor. I'm truly sorry to see her reduced in such a demeaning way. At least she is not channeling Bellatrix' evil little girl act. In fact, she sounds sweet.

I smile. "I swear I'm really Harry."

She giggles some more. "You're cute."

"Well, thank you. So are you."

She smiles coquettishly and tries to bring her hands to her hair. Then she notices she can't. She looks at her hands and frowns. "Why?" The smile disappears and she looks down. "I was bad."

"No you weren't, dear. But you were going to hurt yourself."

She whispers. "Please let me go. I promise I'll behave."

I dispel the ropes. She sits up, rubbing her wrists. "Thanks. Is Bella here?" She looks around. "Is this your home?"

"Bella is not here. And this is your home."

She looks at me with a puzzled expression. Muggles call this a fugue state, where the injured mind retreats back into childhood. She desperately needs a mind healer, but there's only two of those in Magical Britain. One is untrustworthy and the other has her hands beyond full. I should try to bring one from the continent. I hadn't done it yet because previous breakdowns weren't this bad. Before she can reply, Winky pops back with a polished wooden box in her hand. Andromeda startles a little.

"This is Winky"

Andromeda smiles at the little elf. "Hello, Winky. Nice to meet you."

I speak fast, before Winky can reply. I'm not sure how Andromeda would react to being called 'Mistress Tonks'. "Miss Black is a little better, Winky."

"I'm happy to hear it, Master Harry." She curtsies to both of us, places the wooden box on top of a dresser and leaves. Clever elf.

I open the box and take out two potions: nutrient and peace. Store-bought nutrient potions actually taste fruity, so I begin with that. I open the little bottle and extend it to Andromeda.

She scrunches her face and shakes her head. "No..."

"It doesn't taste bad."

She stops and looks at me. "You sure?"

"Yup."

She smiles and upends it, licking her lips afterwards. "Nice."

"Good girl. Now this one. It's a little bitter, but you will feel good afterwards."

I give her the bottle. She looks dubiously at the little flask. "Can you pinch my nose?"

"Sure."

She downs the second potion and makes a face. Slowly, all tension leaves her body, her eyes unfocused and a goofy smile takes over her face. She giggles. "That feels nice." She cuddles up against my chest and plays with the buttons of my shirt. I wrap my arms around her. I let both of us relax for a few minutes, feeling my own overworked nerves settle down a bit. It's oddly comforting, holding her.

We'd become close, Andromeda and I. Her quiet, competent way, stinging wit and hidden warmth suits my own broody manner very well. I've been aware of the cesspit of sadness and loss behind her brittle facade. Now, for Teddy and for myself, I just hope I can help her come back. I whisper in her ear. "You're kinda stinky."

She sniffles a bit. "No I'm not."

"You are. You need a bath."

"Aww. Allright."

She hops out of my arms and starts to take off her camisole. "You help me?"

I hold down her arms before she gives me a full view. "I'll ask Winky to help you."

She pouts. I catch a glimpse of the adorable little girl she once was. "I'll brush you hair afterwards, allright?"

Several months sharing a tent with Hermione taught me a few things about girls and what they need. "Okay."

"Winky"

She pops next to me. "Master Harry?"

"Miss Black needs a bath. Would you please help her?"

"Right away Master Harry."

Winky picks up Andromeda's hand and walks her to the ensuite while she giggles. "Harry says 'please' to you."

"Master Harry is a very kind wizard, Miss Black"

More giggles as the door closes. "He's cute."

I use the bath time to do a little housecleaning. Open the windows and use a wind spell to generate a breeze. Remove the soiled bedding. A little freshening charm on the mattress, thanks to Hermione's copy of One-hundred-and-one Household Charms & Spells. Then fresh bedding and a little magical dusting.

I take out a flask of dreamless sleep potion from the box, and replace it with Andromeda's wand. casting a locking charm. To one side of the room, there's an antique vanity and a broad stool with soft red velvet upholstery. I find a charmed hair brush inside one of the drawers.

Her hair is a luscious dark chestnut, falling in waves right down to her buttocks. A glorious mane, badly in need of care. Without the untangling charm on the brush, this would be an impossible job. As it is, little girl Andromeda is softly humming to herself, as I count strokes. From the roots, all the way down, careful with the tangles, and repeat.

She is sitting on the stool looking at her reflection as I stand behind her. Somewhere between strokes fifty and sixty, her shoulders stiffen and the humming stops. I look at her face in the mirror, and I see fresh tear tracks down her face.

Her voice is but a whisper, but fully adult. "Ted?"

Fuck. "I'm Harry."

After a short hesitation, I continue brushing. She ignores me. "What's happening, love?" She sounds sad and lost.

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't come home last night."

I think I can guess who "she" is. "Wherever she is, I'm sure she is fine." Not a complete lie.

She turns shrill. "She's just fourteen! She can't just up an leave! Oh, Merlin!" She starts sobbing.

"What is it?"

"We had a horrible fight last night."

"I'm sure it's going to turn out fine."

"It won't!" She shakes her head. "She said some horrible things."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it. She loves you."

"Oh, Ted, I'm so sorry. She got under my skin and I totally lost it." She pauses and her voice goes down to a whisper. "I slapped her, Ted. I was so angry... I hit our little girl."

The pain, and the love in her voice... I suddenly realize things between the tightly wound aristocratic mother and the bubbly rebel daughter couldn't possibly have been very easy.

At the back of my mind, I've been figuring that both Andromeda and I needed some time to heal, and afterwards I'd be stepping back some. Maybe a frequent visitor. A favorite uncle to Teddy. I've been deceiving myself. Even if Andromeda recovers fully, she will need serious hands on help handling a growing marauder, metamorph, moon touched cub. I guess it will be all the way in, then. Half-formed plans of getting away from this god-forsaken, rainy island and seeing a bit of the the world will have to go on the back burner.

I set the issue aside and turn back to Andromeda, who is just staring at me. "You will apologize and she will come around. You'll see."

"I don't think so. You didn't see her face. She just turned around and left. And she didn't come back."

I set the brush on top of the vanity and help Andromeda to the bed. "You're very tired. I pick up the potion flask and hand it to her. Take this. It will help you sleep. I'll try to find Dora. I bet the Weasleys know where she is."

She drinks the potion. I tuck her in. "That Charlie..." Her eyes begin to close.

"He's a good boy."

"He's not right. Not right..." And she's asleep. Ten to twelve hours. I think I saw a friendly looking bottle of single malt downstairs...

Hermione

It's two second-year boys on the ground, a skinny blonde puff straddling a pudgy dark-haired snake. The boy on the bottom is holding the top boy's arms, trying to avoid getting punched, while the boy on top is trying to get his arms free, with the presumed intention of punching. Five other children are standing around in a circle, egging them on.

I use my best McGonagall voice. "Against the wall, all of you!"

The spectators freeze up. One of them thinks about running, but looks at my face and changes his mind. After a few seconds, they obey, leaving the two pugilists still struggling on the floor. I summon the top fellow with a wordless spell, holding him by the arm, and cast a sticking charm on the boy on the floor. The boy I'm holdng continues struggling, so I push him against the wall and cast another sticking charm.

All seven are talking at the same time. There's a dark wood wand near the boy on the ground which I summon. It feels slimy and hostile.

I use Harry's little trick, pushing a little unfocused power out. "Silence!" They shut up. I point my wand at the boy on the floor. "You! Name."

He gives me a dark look. "Althus Avery, Miss Granger."

I sigh. It's the old story. "What happened?"

"This... filth bumped into me on purpose when my friend and I were getting back to the dungeons. When I complained, he attacked me."

I try to keep the loathing out of my voice. "All right. Enough."

I turn to the boy stuck to the wall. This one has a star-struck look. "Sean McFarlane, m'am. I was distracted going around the corner and bumped him by accident. I was going to apologize, but he started screaming abuse. He called me a filthy mudblood, among other things. I said he was an inbred moron and a death-eater wannabe. He started pulling his wand and I jumped him. That's the truth, m'am."

"It's a lie! The mud..." I turn to him, my wand pointing at him, the tip turning red and he swallows what he was going to say. I cast a silencio on the boy, mostly to avoid him digging himself a deeper hole.

I look straight into the eyes of the other Slytherin kid, a cute brunette with freckles. "What's your name?"

"A-A-Amy Fletcher, m'am."

"Did Mr. Avery use the 'M' word, Miss Fletcher?"

She looks at the boy on the floor, trying to decide who she fears the most. "Eh... Ah..."

I raise my voice a bit and catch a little with surface legilimency. "Did he?"

"Ahh... Yes m'am"

She's telling the truth. I feel a little dirty, peeking into her mind like that. I look at the other four bystanders. "Do you agree?" Nods all around. "Anything to add?" Six head shake in unison. I pull my magic in. "As you know, this racist epithet has been banished from our school. The penalties for using it are severe. You five. Ten point deduction each, and one day detention with your head of House for your omission. Now, straight to your common room."

The five walk away as fast as they can. I cancel the sticking charm on the boy at the wall. "Mr. McFarlane. My regards to Professor Sprout. Please inform her of this incident and tell her I recommend a twenty-five point deduction and a three-day detention for fighting."

He stands straight and blushes, still looking star-struck despite the harsh punishment. "Right away, m'am."

I turn to the boy on the ground, casting a finite, to cancel both the sticking charm and the silencio. He stands up and I examine him. He's scuffed, and has a tear in his robes, but seems otherwise intact.

I feel like placing the boy on my knees and spanking him. Hard. "Mr. Avery. You're with me."

I walk fast towards the Astronomy Tower, the short second year struggling to follow me. At the door of Prof. Sinistra's door there is a painting of a winged cherubim holding a gold cup. I show the painting my badge and a little while later the door opens. Prof. Sinistra is a tall brunette in her early forties, with an easy smile and gentle eyes. The near opposite of her greasy predecessor. Her shoulder-length hair is loose and she's wearing a dark blue robe with moving star shapes, reminding me a bit of Dumbledore.

Her smile disappears when she notices I'm not alone. Her voice takes an icy tone. "Mr. Avery, Miss Granger. Please come in."

We walk in and stand near her, as she closes the door. "To what do I owe this visit?"

I hand her his wand, as I reply. "A hateful word used in anger and fisticuffs on a third floor corridor."

She grimaces at the wand. "Who was this word directed to?"

"Sean McFarlane."

"Ah." She gives Avery a sad look. "Are you sure, Miss Granger?"

"Six witnesses, including one of your snakes, m'am. Amy Fletcher."

"So, there is no doubt?"

I shake my head. "None."

She sits at one of her leather chairs. "Mr. Avery is a repeat offender, I'm afraid." She turns to the young boy. "You were warned, Mr Avery. The sky is about to fall on your head."

The boy mumbles. "Blood traitor scum."

Again, I swallow the impulse of spanking the boy. The professor blinks at the insult, but decides not to respond. "Be as it may, Mr. Avery. Your parents will be contacted. You will be suspended. Your wand use will be curtailed. Also, the DMLE will be notified and there will be an investigation of your family for dark objects and practices. There will be fines and possible incarceration. And remember. This is your very last chance. Do it once more and you will be expelled, your wand snapped and your magic bound. I can assure you you will not enjoy life as a muggle"

The boy gives her a hateful look but says nothing. She opens the door and lets the boy out. "Back to the dungeons with you. Bring your packed trunk when you come down for breakfast tomorrow."

She closes the door and turns back to me. "Miss Granger..." She notices the single tear coming down my face. "Oh, dear girl..."

I've known Aurora Sinistra since I was eleven. She is a great teacher and a kind witch. However, we have barely exchanged words outside her subject in all this time. I can't hide my embarrassment. "I'm sorry..."

She grabs my arm and pulls me inside, after locking her door with a wand wave. "There's nothing to be sorry about. Please, call me Rory."

I sniffle. "Hermione."

"A spot of tea? Perhaps something stronger?"

"Tea, please."

I plop down on her couch. She sits next to me, and a tray with a steaming teapot and two cups appears at the center table. "Professor..."

"Rory. How do you like your tea?"

"Plain is fine."

She pours the tea and gives me the cup. Then she pours herself one and sits in an armchair next to the sofa, reclining and crossing her legs. The little tea ritual does its magic on our British souls, and the stretched nerves begin to relax a bit.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sigh. "It just seems so pointless..."

The sentence trails off, as I search for words. Her voice is serene as the stars she loves so much. "It was not a war against prejudice, dear girl. It was against a madman who used prejudice as a tool."

She gets it. "I know."

"Fighting prejudice is an entirely different war."

I think of the muggle world and its long struggle. "An impossible war."

She sighs. "Hard. Not impossible. And the battlefront is right here."

I nod, calming down, and voicing something that's been at the back of my head. "I'm not sure that heavy sanctions against the use of a foul word is the answer."

She smiles. "I'm not sure either. But we are all hostages to our time."

"I don't understand."

She takes a lecturing tone. "People often look for simple solutions to complex problems. Fighting prejudice is hard. Prohibiting a word?" She shrugs. "Simple solutions look specially attractive after a time of fear and uncertainty."

I nod again, and place the empty cup at a low table. I'm tired.

"It's late. Thanks for the tea and your wisdom."

"You're welcome. Thanks for listening" A short pause as we stand up. "My door is always open."

"Thanks."

I walk slowly back to the apartment, dreaming of a long soak in my bathtub. I find a pair of redheads waiting for me outside my door.

I exchange a silent greeting with Ron, and Ginny stands in front of me. "Where is Harry?"

"Andromeda's, as far as I know."

"Do you know what happened?"

"Trouble, of course. It's Halloween. I don't know any details."

She frowns. "Damn."

Ron smirks at her.. "Patience, Gin. He'll be back tomorrow."

I'm not in the mood for more drama. "It's late. I'm going to bed. I suggest you do the same." I turn to the door and call the password. "Leontes."

The door opens. Ron grabs me by the waist as I walk by him and plants a brief kiss on my lips. "Do you want company?"

"Yes, I do, But I'd rather you two go back to the tower. I don't want either one of you walking around alone."

They exchange a glance and turn back to me, both a little offended. Ginny voices their toughts."I can take care of myself!"

"I know you can. Still..."

Ron places a placating hand on Ginny's shoulder. "It's ok."

He's very protective of Ginny, which annoys her but I rather like. I turn to Ron and give him a deeper kiss, whispering in his ear afterwards. "Come by at seven tomorrow."

Ron's face is a poem, his happiness with my implicit promise at war with his deep dislike of waking up early on a weekend. I give it a good chance that he'll show up, but at least half an hour late. "Goodnight Weasleys." They mumble their goodnights as I walk in and close my door.

Harry

I don't like scotch. It's acrid, it burns going down and the fumes make me want to sneeze. I get the point, though. I can feel my nerves unwinding a bit. As I get a little light headed, I conclude that using a wand under the influence should probably be illegal. A quick "Tempus" shows a quarter to ten. Winky popped up at Hogwarts half past six, but these three hours and a bit feel like a week. A long one. It's Halloween, what can I say...

I get up, place the empty tumbler on the mantle and toss a pinch of floo powder at the fire. When it turns green I call "Shell Cottage". I stick my face in the flames. "Bill, Fleur?"

Pretty feet in low white sandals, followed by a squatting blonde with a big smile. "Hi, 'Arry!"

Her English has improven, but she still says my name in the same cute way. "Hi. Is it a bad time?"

"Oh, non! Perfect time. What can I do for you?"

"I need to ask a little favor."

"Oui?"

"Eh... It's a bit complicated. Can I go there?"

"Oh, bien sur. You're keyed in, just come."

She steps aside and I go. As usual, I trip coming out, and end up flat on my back.

Fleur's smile widens, as she waves her wand in a silent spell, removing the soot.

I get up. She is wearing blue shorts and a white sleeveless shirt of some soft material. She's still a little taller than me, but I no longer need to tilt up to look into her blue eyes."I really hate this..."

"You need to walk into it, like you're stepping on a fast moving walkway."

"Huh?"

"It's tricky. The floo uses a bit of your magic to push you through. The more powerful you are, the stronger the push. In your case..." She finishes the sentence with a shrug.

"Bloody hell. Really?" She nods. "Why in God's green earth nobody ever told me?"

Another Gallic shrug. "Very few people know." She frowns "God's green earth?"

"It's a muggle expression. Should I use 'Morgaine's saggy tits', or something like that instead?"

She makes a haughty expression. "Ah! You should stick to polite language when addressing a lady."

I smile "A lady?" I think of Andromeda as the lady. Fleur? Powerful, smart and quick-tempered, but not very ladylike.

Soft laughter, like silver bells. "Don't tell my mozzer, but perhaps not so much."

"Is Bill around?"

"He is working at an underwater cave near Mikonos, in Greece."

I frown. That's some people's life, I guess. Great family, head boy, sexy job overseas and Fleur's heart. I die, kill the bad guy and what I get is a load of unwanted attention, a baby and a broken woman to care for. I try to push my jealousy and bitterness away and pretend.

"Mikonos, wow!"

She smirks a little. "Yeah, wow." Her tone is a bit sarcastic. Apparently, I'm not the only one with a problem.

"It's his job, isn't it?"

"It was 'is job before the war. Zen he asked to stay in England. After you finished off ze Dark Cochon, not anymore. Now, it's two weeks around 'ere and 'e begins to get restless."

I look at her and shake my head. "Restless." Bill knows Fleur doesn't really have anyone in Britain. What's he thinking? "How long since he left?"

"A week. And still anozzer two weeks before 'e comes back."

The loneliness is pretty obvious. "I'm sorry."

Again the shrug "Ah, mon ami. C'est la vie." She pauses. "Can I 'elp you, or you need William?"

"I hope you, or your family can help me. I need a mind healer, urgently."

She frowns at me for a second, and then laughs. "You don't seem terribly unhinged."

"Not for me, silly." I wave my hands in annoyance, and she realizes I'm serious. "There's only two mind healers in Britain. One is a pureblood bigot. The other is swamped by the surviving victims of Umbridge's committee. I was hoping you, or your family, could help me find someone on the Continent."

"Who needs the healer?"

"Andromeda. She had a complete meltdown today."

"Ah." She looks down. "What kind of meltdown?"

I describe the afternoon incident. Halfway through, she places a soft hand on my shoulder, and her eyes glisten. "Oh, 'Arry."

A hug, and her allure a little out of control drive thoughts of Andromeda away for a moment. She notes the effect she is having and pulls away, a light pink blush on her cheeks. "Oh."

I'm rather embarrassed too and I try to cover it with a joke. "I'm sorry. Still a hormonal teenager."

"Eet's nothing, 'Arry. I should 'ave better control."

"You do. I haven't felt your allure in years. And it's fine to let go of your control a bit around me." Besides, a cold shower before bed should take care of it.

Whatever she is thinking, we both end up laughing at the incident. We get hold of ourselves and she gets back to business. "There is someone..."

"Who?"

"Her name is Anais Osterle. She's a close friend of my grandmozzer."

"Do you think she would come? I can pay whatever..."

"I don't know. I will 'ave to ask 'er. She lives in the veela enclave of Mairillon, near Strasbourg."

"So, she's veela."

"Oui. Is zat a problem? She's also a very respected 'ealer."

"Oh no. It sounds great." I pause for a moment. British law still affords very few rights to veela, I've learned a few things, though. "Tell her that she would be performing a great service to the Houses of Black and Potter, and she would be under the protection of both houses."

She giggles and gives me a mocking curtsy. "Yes, my Lord."

I show her my tongue. "Insufferable frenchie."

She points a finger at me "Barbaric brit."

She stops laughing after a bit. "'Arry." "What?" "What are you going to do about ze baby?"

"Andromeda and Teddy are my job." She can hear the bitterness in my tone and frowns. "I know. Some heroes explore caves in exotic locations. Others take care of babies and broken witches."

Her tone turns sharp. "Feeling a leetle sorry for yourself, per'aps?"

I make a gesture, two fingers about half an in apart. "Maybe a leetle." She giggles at me mocking her accent. "I'm allowed, I think."

"Yes you are." and a pause. "You can just drop it, you know. Nobody will zink worse of you."

My laughter is bitter. "Only myself." She smiles sadly and nods. "I owe them my sanity, Fleur. And the little boy is a handful. He needs me." I sigh "I guess I'm done with Hogwarts, though"

"Oh. Right." She frowns. "What about your NEWTs?"

"I'll revise by myself and take the exam at the Ministry, I suppose."

She presses her lips together in a thin line. "I want to 'elp."

I shake my head. "I can handle it."

"I know."

She looks determined. "I can 'elp with your studies, I can cook and clean and 'elp with ze baby and Andromeda." She shrugs and gestures at her house. "All I do is work and torment myself missing William. I think I would actually enjoy changing a few poopy nappies for a change."

I laugh, imagining fussy Fleur changing my overly enthusiastic little godson. "That's fine, Fleur. And I do have a very clever house elf helper."

"Surely you don't mean Kritcher!"

"Oh, no. Kreacher takes care of Grimmaulds Place. A girl elf called Winky. Another war victim. She's actually sane, and quite clever."

"I see."

"I'll add you to the wards. The floo is "Tonks Place." Andromeda is wandless, confined to the house and she is under a heavy potion regime. Come anytime you want. You can even stay the night, if you feel like it. There's an extra bedroom."

"I'll come after work, and stay until you kick me out."

"I'll be sure to cook you some bouillabaisse"

I get a brilliant smile. "Do it well, Mr. Potter, and you won't get rid of me anymore."

"Sounds like a plan, Mrs Weasley." And maybe I should work harder at the ninth commandment as well.

+O+O+O+

I walk down the beaten earth path between the gravestones, lighted wand in one hand, and a single white lily in the other. The night is dark and cold, and the only noise is the wind through the trees. The memory of the warmth of a small cottage by the sea, and of the beautiful woman in it, keep the chill away from my bones.

I kneel down at the gravestone and set down the flower. "Hi mum, dad." I let the silence stretch a bit, uncertain about what to say. "So much to tell... but I guess you know it all already."

I take the wand from my pocket. "Yew and phoenix feather core, thirteen and a half inches, rigid. I couldn't bring you his head, but this would do, I think."

I pull my own wand, brother to the one in front of me and wave it in a short circular motion. "Igneous". Stronger than "Incendio", the spell produces a fire intense enough to burn bone and melt most metals. Still, it takes a bit for the wand to catch fire. I keep it for a couple of minutes, and, at the end, there's only ashes and a dark stain left.

I feel a tear coming down my face. "He stole so much..."

There's a touch of magic in the air. It's near midnight on Samhain, and this is the moment where the chasm between life and death is thinnest. The sacrifice is accepted and a lightness sets on my shoulders. The feeling is that I've done right, that they are proud and I am loved.

For a while, I stay there kneeling. When I get up, I feel bone tired and cold, but more at peace, in some way, than I've ever felt.

As I turn around to walk away, I cast lumos, I notice two ravens perched in a low branch nearby, looking at me. A large one, scruffy and with an eye missing and a smaller, young looking bird.

The larger bird caws loudly and pecks at the smaller one, which looks annoyed and steps sideways a bit. I feel a slight, tentative connection poking at my magic, coming from the younger bird.

I can't avoid smiling. "Hello, little one."

The larger raven caws again and flies away. The other one, which I sense is a male, looks at me sideways, in a hesitant way and makes a soft sound, like a muffled rattle. I can feel the curious, mischievous mind behind the beady eyes, my weird bird sense waking up after a long, sorrowful sleep.

The excitable little raven is a sharp contrast from the pride and quiet intelligence of my beloved snow princess. He flutters and perches on my shoulder, pecking softly at my hair.

"Are you a gift?" He caws, and I feel a subtle nod from the surrounding magic.

"Thanks mum, dad."

Tom's wand was a fitting sacrifice, and magic responds to such things, sometimes in surprising ways.

He pushes his head at my neck, and I caress him, marveling at the sleek soft feathers. "What's your name?"

He flaps his wings and caws. I laugh. "Braddock? You sure?" He nods. "Very well, then. Braddock it is."

He flies around me, as I walk out of the cemetery. Before I apparate away, I ask. "Can you find my home?" I feel his confusion, and I recall there is a complicated spell that gives birds the mail delivery magic. I sigh. Animals hate apparition.

I raise my wand and call the Knight Bus. Thankfully, I manage to sleep most of the way home, a quiet young raven squeezed between my shoulder and my head.