Fic: Going Home: Part Twenty-Five

[alisanne]

Title: Going Home: Part Twenty-Five
Author: alisanne
Word count: 2768
Rating: PG-13
Characters/pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Narcissa Malfoy, Severus Snape/Minerva McGonagall.
Challenge: Written for slythindor100/slythindor100's 25 days of Christmas, Day 25 (traditional): To All A Good Night, and dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge prompt: Parade.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Beta(s): sevfan and emynn.
Authors Notes: Part 25 of Going Home (LJ/IJ/DW).


~

Going Home: Part Twenty-Five

~

“You’re sure?” Draco asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “If you think we have any choice about this I’m all ears.”

Draco sighed. “Our night’s about to get more complicated, isn’t it?”

Harry snorted. “Since when has anything involving us been simple?”

“Fair point.” Draco clutched his dressing gown closer around his body. “Fine, you get dressed and I’ll—” He paused.

“We should both get dressed and then call Hermione.” Harry smirked. “Unless you want to talk about this while half dressed?”

Huffing, Draco reached down, picked up some clothes, and tossed them at Harry. “Let’s get this over with.” He glared at Ron, who they had earlier levitated onto the bed, and who was snoring lightly. “I should hex him on principle.”

“Trust me,” muttered Harry as he climbed into his trousers, “if he doesn’t have a good explanation for all this, you’ll have to stand in line for your chance to hex him.”

Summoning Hermione, however, had the unforeseen side effect of also bringing Narcissa, who immeditaly noticed Ron and murmured, “Oh dear.”

Hermione took one look at Ron and began to tremble. Softly, she said, “What’s happened to him? Why’s he not awake?”

Shrugging, Harry replied, “No idea. I got up to go to the loo and on the way back to bed found the French doors open. By the time I closed them he was inside. We tried to talk to him but he didn’t answer and instead collapsed. He’s been like this ever since.”

“He seemed confused,” chimed in Draco. “Confused and suspicious. And rather than not wanting to answer us, he looked almost as if he couldn’t. As if he’d forgotten what words are.” He reached into a pocket. “Oh, and he had this stuck to his skin.” He held up an owl feather.

Harry could practically see the analytic part of Hermione’s brain come to life. “You think he’s the owl that’s been following Harry around?” She shook her head. “He’s not an Animagus that I know of.” Her voice hardened. “Unless that’s another secret he’s been keeping from me.”

“It’s more likely he stumbled into it by accident. That is often how the first transformation occurs,” said McGonagall from the door. As they all turned to look at her and Snape, who stood beside her, she smiled. “Apologies for the intrusion, but Severus and I had a question for Hermione, and when we asked Bippy to take us to her, he brought us here.”

Hermione cleared her throat, moving away from Ron. “No apologies are necessary. What do you need? Are you feeling all right, Professor?”

Snape inclined his head. “I feel well. We simply wished to inquire whether we could leave tonight to return to Hogwarts, or if more monitoring is required.”

Hermione drew her wand. “Ideally I’d prefer another twenty-four to forty-eight hours of monitoring,” she said as she waved her wand over him. “But your vital signs are steady, and you seem fine, so I suppose you can leave. Just be sure to let someone know if your condition deteriorates.”

Snape hummed. “As you’re the only Healer who is aware of my continued existence, if I have any problems, I shall be in touch, Ms Granger.” His eyes flicked to the bed. “Although,” he continued, his voice going hard, “I believe I should like to remain for the moment.”

McGonagall cleared her throat. “I took the liberty of sharing what you told me earlier about your…situation with Ronald with Severus.”

Snape scowled. “I take a dim view of potions being used to coerce anyone.”

Harry sighed. He almost felt sorry for Ron. Judging from the looks on Snape’s and McGonagall’s faces, the line to hex him had just got longer.

“Looks like it’s time to wake him up,” said Draco. He drew his wand and slashed it through the air a few times, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Want me to try?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, let me examine him first.” Waving her wand, she did a few flicks and swishes, frowning. “It appears to be natural sleep.”

“So he’s just…tired?” Harry asked.

“Aren’t we all?” huffed Draco. “I say we wake him up so we an get on with the hexing and get back to sleep!”

A small smile touched Hermione’s lips. “Thank you, but we should at least hear his explanation as to what happened.”

Draco began twirling his wand with his fingers. “Then we can hex him?”

“If necessary, absolutely,” said Hermione. “Expergiscimini*!”

Gasping, Ron sat straight up. Looking around, his eyes went wide. “What the bloody hell?” His eyes landed on Hermione, and he blinked. “Hermione? Blimey! Are you a sight for sore eyes!” He reached towards her, but Hermione stepped back. “What’s wrong?”

Exhaling, Hermione asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Frowning, Ron blinked. “I was in the Christmas market.” He coughed, dropping his eyes. “We’d had a fight.”

Draco’s wand twirling became more deliberate, and Harry recognised the familiar wand patterns for several hexes. He placed his hand on Draco’s arm. Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry shook his head. Rolling his eyes, Draco stopped.

“…then I stormed off,” continued Ron. “I wasn’t sure where I was going, just that I had to get away.” Raising his eyes, he stared at Hermione. “You were right, you know. Everything you said was right. I am jealous of your job, of your success. And I am a crap Auror, which is why I’m leaving. You’re so smart, anything you put your mind to is a success. I was just trying to hold onto you!”

“By drugging me?” Hermione’s voice was steady, calm. “You realise that could have been dangerous for me? Mixing Contraceptive Potion and a fertility potion isn’t safe.”

Ron’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, I didn’t even think…Hermione, I am so sorry. I was wrong to try to force you to have a baby. It was Mum’s idea to try it since she knows how paranoid I am about losing you… Although honestly, I have no excuse, I know I was wrong. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

It was Harry’s turn to start contemplating hexes. He had just executed his third Slicing Hex in his head when Draco slid his arm around his waist. As usual, Draco’s touch calmed him, and Harry shot him a tight smile.

Hermione hadn’t yet replied, she was simply standing there, absorbing Ron’s words. “Are you an unregistered Animagus?” she finally asked.

Ron froze. “I…guess?” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to do that. Didn’t even know I could.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m not sure I could manage it now if I tried.”

Hermione’s shoulders relaxed. “Tell me how it happened.”

Ron looked around at all of them as if just coming to the realisation that they had an audience. “Um, can we talk about it in private?”

Hermione shook her head. “They all know about what happened between us.”

“You told them?” Ron’s voice rose. “Hermione…”

“You told your mother about being afraid of losing me and she suggested a fertility potion,” Hermione bit out. “You don’t have the high ground here, Ron. Now, what happened?”

Ron shivered. “Right. Well, as I said I left the market, planning to go home. About halfway there it occurred to me you could be there and I wasn’t ready to face you. Nor was I ready to face Mum. So I…wandered. Went to Muggle London, went to an ice-skating rink, even joined in a Muggle Christmas parade of some sort. Not sure what they were celebrating, but some old bint handed me an ale, so off I went.

“That ale was strong, and after staggering about, I was on the outskirts of London, where there was a park. I wandered around there for a while, still drunk, watching people. I was tired, so I sat on a bench. An old woman sat next to me and she was magical, I could tell.”

Hermione’s arms were crossed. “And then?”

“And then…” Ron shook his head. “It gets blurry then. I think she did something to me.”

“Just out of the blue?” Draco burst out. “You expect us to believe—?”

Hermione held up a hand, and Draco stopped. “Continue, Ron.”

Ron exhaled, his eyes distant. “She said something about me needing to know what it felt like to be forced into a form I hadn’t chosen. And the next thing I knew, I was a bird.”

Hermione gasped. “What time was that?” she asked.

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe…six or so in the evening. Why?”

“I…nothing.” Hermione nodded. “Continue.”

Ron sighed. “At first it was fun being a bird. It felt like a carefree life to catch a mouse and have it for supper and to fly around at night. It got old quickly, though, and I soon discovered I had no way to change back.”

“Is that why you began following me around?” Harry asked.

Ron looked over at him. “That was by accident, mate. I was bored, looking for something to do, and then Mrs Malfoy saw me and hailed me like I was a postal bird. Part of me recognised her and I figured why not, you know? Anyway, as soon as she tied the letter onto my leg, I knew where you were, so I flew up, delivered the letter, and while I was handing…” He paused. “I guess it would be legging it over!” He grinned.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Ron looked sheepish. “Yeah, that was bad, sorry. Anyway, once I’d passed it on to you, I tried to talk, to tell you it was me, but you just stared at me, shook your head, and closed the window.”

“So how did you turn back?” asked Hermione.

Ron shook his head. “The same old woman. I’ve been flying around Malfoy Manor for ages, trying to think of a way to get in and tell you all that it’s me.” He eyed Hermione. “And to tell you I’d got your messages, Hermione, just couldn’t answer. Anyway, I was sitting on a tree branch when I heard someone approaching, I looked down, and it was the old woman. She stopped right under my tree, looked up, and said, “I believe you’ve learned your lesson. Go on inside.”

Harry frowned. “How’d you get in?’’

Ron shrugged. “Once she said that, it was like a compulsion. I flew toward the Manor, circled it a couple of times, and once I found your French doors, I landed outside. I tried tapping a couple of times, but no one answered, and then, before I knew it, I was naked and outside and shivering. Thank Merlin the doors were unlocked. I stumbled inside and woke up just now.”

Harry leaned into Draco. “Who’s the old woman, you think?”

Draco shook his head. “No idea. Some sort of vengeful Christmas spirit?”

“It sounds like a manifestation of Perchta**,” said Snape, stepping forwards. He looked at Ron, who quailed under his piercing glare. “If so, you are fortunate, as her punishments often involve disembowelling her victims and replacing those bowels with garbage.”

“Ugh,” muttered Harry. “Sorry I asked.”

Ron went white. “Bloody hell.”

“Indeed.” Snape smirked. “She is, as you described, an old witch, and she often is involved in Christmas parades. She may have been the one who gave you the ale in the first place as a test.” He inclined his head. “It’s possible she may have decided to be gentle with you because you survived her ale.”

Hermione coughed. “I…that may have been my fault, Ron.”

Ron frowned. “How?”

Hermione shrugged. “I was so angry with you, I wished you could feel what it was like to be trapped in a role you didn’t want. It wasn’t a spell or anything—”

“Ah, but I beg to differ.” McGonagall smiled. “Wishes cast at Christmas are strong magic. It’s entirely possible your wish brought Ron to Perchta’s attention.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ron.”

Ron bit his lip. “I’m the one who’s sorry. If you forgive me I promise there will be no more pressure about kids, about anything.” He scowled. “And I’ll tell Mum she can go hang if she brings it up again!”

A shy smile broke over Hermione’s face, and she sat on the bed. “You’d do that for me?”

Ron, his heart in his eyes, clasped her hands. “I love you, Hermione. I’d do anything for you.”

“Well,” said Snape, taking McGonagall’s hand. “I believe it’s time for us to retire.” He coughed. “And perhaps for a Memory Charm.”

“Wait.” Narcissa stepped forward. “Just in case you do leave tonight. Would you come to Christmas dinner? Both of you? Lucius always did consider you part of the family, Severus, and now that we know you’re alive—”

Snape cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that’s such a good—”

“Narcissa is right, I always have, you know.” Lucius, his features still slightly snake-like, but definitely more human, stood at the door. “And why are you all gathered here when there are several perfectly serviceable drawing rooms downstairs?”

“Lucius!” Narcissa fairly flew to him, hugging him. He staggered slightly but quickly recovered, tucking her into his side.

“I don’t—” Snape paused as McGonagall rose up onto her toes to whisper something in his ear. He smiled. “Very well. What time is Christmas dinner?”

Harry leaned into Draco and whispered, “Er, I don’t think we’re getting this room back anytime soon.” He nodded at Hermione and Ron, who had progressed to kissing.

Draco sighed. “Damn. And I was so looking forward to hexing him.”

Grinning, Harry nudged him with his elbow. “Be nice.”

“Oh please.” Turning to face him, Draco murmured, “I’m sure we’ve established I’m never nice, but I’m always good.”

Laughing, Harry met his lips halfway. “Prat,” he whispered just as their mouths met.

“In the meantime,” Snape said loudly a few moments later, “I believe we’re heading home. All this snogging is making me sick.”

Harry and Draco drew apart, Draco raising an eyebrow. “Last we looked these are our quarters.”

Lucius hummed. “In my house.”

Snape smirked. “With my eyes.”

Narcissa smiled faintly. “Perhaps we should leave Harry and Draco to their own devices.”

Hermione stood up, drawing Ron off the bed. “We should head home,” she said. “I need to examine Ron a bit more thoroughly to be sure he’s okay.”

“I’m pretty sure we did not need to know that,” murmured Draco.

“I can return to check on you tomorrow, Mr Malfoy,” she continued, ignoring Draco.

Narcissa stepped forward. “That would be appreciated, thank you for your help, Healer Granger.” Looking around at all of them, she continued, “For all your help. You saved my husband, and for that we are eternally grateful.”

“Quite,” said Lucius, looking embarrassed.

“Now, shall we all retire? It’s been a long night.” Narcissa clasped Lucius’ hand. “And I believe we’ll all want to reassure ourselves our mates are all right.”

“I’m definitely sure we didn’t need to know that,” Draco muttered.

Narcissa, Hermione, and McGonagall all shot glares at him. Then, head held high, Hermione sailed out of the room, hand in hand with Ron, who looked dazed. Snape and McGonagall left next, followed by Narcissa and Lucius.

Just before she closed the door, Narcissa winked.

Once they were alone, Harry began to laugh. “You realise everyone in this house will be having sex tonight? It’s just like that Christmas saying. ‘And to all a good night’.” He winked. “It’s going to be a very good night for everyone.”

“And there goes the mood,” Draco huffed.

Rolling his eyes, Harry hauled him close. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can get you back in the mood. In fact—” Backing Draco up until he hit the bed, Harry purred, “—I doubt it will take much work at all.”

“Wait,” gasped Draco as Harry began kissing his jaw and neck.

Harry raised his head. “Why?”

Pointing his wand at the bed, Draco cast a Cleaning Charm. “There,” he said. “Just in case there was any of Weasley’s stupidity left over.”

“Arse,” growled Harry, tackling him onto the bed.

Smirking, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck. “You love my arse.”

Shaking his head, Harry leaned down. “Merlin help me, but I do.” And as all talking ceased, he proved it over and over again.

~

*Awake

** Perchta.