Morsmordre
Having endured the presence of two teenage boys (who, the more they got on the more troublesome they became) for several weeks, then an entire gaggle of teenagers for Harry’s birthday, Severus and Petronella are trying to enjoy the peace and quiet.
This is rather difficult to do when one’s child is the famous boy-who-lived, and barely makes it a few months at a time without finding himself in some sort of mortal peril. Allowing him to attend the Quidditch World Cup with his godfather and the Weasleys had been a difficult decision. Especially considering the change in Severus’ Dark Mark, and Harry’s troubling dream.
But in the end they had decided that perhaps this might be the last opportunity Harry had to do something, well, normal like that, and to enjoy just a little independence from them. The likelihood was that things would only become more dangerous for him from here on out, and they would need to keep an even closer eye on him, which was not really what most teenagers wanted from their parents.
So, they had agreed to Black’s proposal and allowed Harry to attend the sporting event which seemed to have the entirety of Wizarding Britain in a pique of Quidditch fever. At least the mutt was eventually learning that to get to Harry he would need to go through them.
They read, garden, brew, fix things around the manor, cook, eat, fuck, read some more, sleep, and repeat. But they remain somewhat on edge, alert. Because their son is currently in a field on the south east coast of England, surrounded by probably 50% of the wizarding population of Great Britain, along with tens of thousands of avid Quidditch supporters from all around the world. Strict as the Quidditch Confederation claimed their security to be, anyone could potentially buy a ticket and pose as a fan.
So when the alarm comes, they are ready to act.
Books are abandoned on the hearth rug, boots and cloaks donned within seconds, candles extinguished, and the emergency portkey procured by way of several lengthy application forms and the personal assistance of Albus Dumbledore, taken from the box on the mantelpiece.
The scene which greets them upon their arrival is one of utter chaos. One might be forgiven for thinking one had stepped back in time fifteen years, and the couple react to the pandemonium accordingly, slipping almost instinctively into battle mode.
‘Harry!’ Petra shouts out. Ideally he would have stayed close to the place he had triggered the alarm, knowing his parents would come for him. Petra had managed to modify the official QWC portkey to be tied to Harry’s charm instead of the portkey point which was all the way over by the main arena. However it’s not surprising that he is not immediately in sight. He might have had to run for cover, or got swept up by the crowd. Severus grabs the nearest person who doesn’t appear too panicked to be able to respond.
‘What’s going on?’ He demands, holding the slightly shorter man by the cuff of his green polo shirt.
‘Death Eaters!’ The man garbles, stumbling away as soon as Severus releases his grip.
Petra and Severus look at each other, taking only a second to silently agree who will do what. Severus pulls his hood low over his face and takes off in the direction of the screams, fire and explosions. Petronella scans the area, then crouches and reaches inside to find her link to Harry. She can feel him fairly close, but the blood bond does not pinpoint the other’s exact location. She can also feel the threads of panic running through the link. Petra puts her hands into the trampled, muddy grass, and reaches out through the earth. People jostle past her, and step on her hands, crying out, or swearing at her. One person tries to pull her up, thinking she has fallen.
Attempting to find him in this will be impossible. All she can feel is fear and panic everywhere.
Alright then. Logic is the next tool at her disposal. She moves in the general direction of the crowd, scanning side to side for any likely places Harry might have chosen to hide. Hopefully he had learned his lesson by now and not run towards the danger. And hopefully Arthur and Sirius had been there and had acted responsibly. Arthur Weasley she certainly trusted to do the right thing and get the kids to safety, Sirius – well that was anyone’s guess. Would he stick to Harry like glue, or run off towards the Death Eaters in a rage?
The civilians all seem to be heading for the woods a few hundred meters away, so Petra too turns in that direction, stepping between a couple of tents and transforming into the crow. She flies up over the heads of the retreating crowd and scans the area. Crows do not see terribly well in the dark, but she is confident she would be able to spot Harry by his shape and movements.
~~~~
Harry had just been drifting off to sleep when the commotion had started, and they were suddenly all bundled outside by a slightly panicked Arthur. Even Sirius seemed rather grim and on edge.
Outside other campers are emerging from their tents, some hurrying quickly away, others trying to peer in the direction of the disturbance. Somewhere back towards the arena there is a flash of light and a small explosion.
‘Go, now!’ Arthur shouts, not only to his own party, but those who are standing around gawping. ‘To the woods, there’s an emergency evacuation point.’
They weave between the tents and Harry grabs the charm on his necklace. His parents would know he was in danger and come to get him. It’s reassuring and yet there’s something in the air which makes him afraid.
‘Sirius!’ He hisses, grabbing his godfather’s arm. ‘What’s really going on?’
‘Death Eater attack.’ Sirius growls back darkly.
Oh Merlin, no. Now he wishes Severus and Petra wouldn’t come. He doesn’t want them to get messed up in that. Will they even know where he is? Maybe they should have stayed in the tent?
‘Arthur, there you are!’ Amos Diggory comes running over.
There is another, louder explosion, and everyone ducks instinctively. There are screams in the distance, and suddenly everyone starts running.
‘Arthur, Sirius, there are Death Eaters attacking civilians!’ Amos exclaims. ‘Send the kids to the woods, and follow me, we need all the help we can get. They’ve taken the muggles as hostages!’
Hermione gasps, and Ginny looks sick. Ron simply seems in shock.
‘We can help!’ The twins offer.
‘No. You two take care of Ginny. Charlie and Percy get them all safely to the meeting point. Bill, you’re with us.’ Arthur instructs his sons. ‘Go. Now.’
Sirius looks at Harry, obviously torn.
‘I’ll be fine.’ Harry says.
‘Good kid.’ Sirius winks, then he is off with the others, running back towards the disturbance, almost looking happy.
The eight kids have sort of been pushed close together by the crowds of people rushing past them.
‘This way!’ Calls Charlie from the front.
‘Stick together!’ Percy adds, taking up a sort of side, flanking position.
Fred and George are either side of Ginny, who actually looks the least worried out of all of them, and they all begin to move with the crowd. Soon they are running, but the screams and explosions behind them do not seem to get any further away.
They manage to clear the tents, remarkably without anyone tripping over any guy ropes, cross a narrow open area of field, and follow the others into the wood. Slowed by the trees and undergrowth blocking passage, the crowds of people are once again clustered together. It is dark, there are people crying and panicked voices, and they are jostled about. Harry grabs for Ron and Hermione, managing to catch hold of her hand, and his jumper as they stumble over roots and get scratched by brambles. It’s suddenly much darker here though, and with all the other shadowy figures stumbling about they become separated from the rest of the Weasleys.
‘Ugh!’ Hermione lights her wand, and they stop a moment to look around. She sucks her finger where a bramble has torn her skin.
‘You lot should probably keep going.’ A voice drawls from nearby. They look up and Hermione raises her wand to reveal Draco leaning against a tree a little way off. ‘And put that thing out before you attract attention.’ He scowls.
‘What’s it to you Malfoy?’ Ron grouches, as Hermione lowers her wand, but leaves it lit.
‘Well we wouldn’t want her to get spotted would we?’ Draco glances at Hermione.
‘What do you mean by that?’ Hermione sticks her chin out.
‘Oh come on, you’re not stupid. They’re torturing muggles down there you know.’
‘I’m not a muggle.’
‘No but you’re a mudblood. Next best thing to a Death Eater.’
‘Draco!’ Harry exclaims. It’s as if he is an entirely different person to the boy who had shared his room at the beginning of the summer.
‘Oh, fine. Bury your heads in the sand, and pretend everything’s all sunshine and roses. Everyone’s created equal and if we all just stand around singing songs and holding hands the bad men will just go away.’ Draco sneers.
‘Shut your mouth Malfoy!’ Ron steps forward, but Hermione holds him back.
‘Come on let’s find the others.’ She says.
‘Yes, run along back to daddy weaselby.’ Draco taunts. Harry frowns at him and shakes his head.
‘Actually my father is helping to save those people.’ Ron retorts. ‘Where’s yours? Wearing a mask?’
‘If he was you’d be wise not to get on my bad side.’ Draco scowls back.
Just then there is another explosion back at the campsite, causing everyone to flinch, and the bright light casts strange shadows from their crouching forms. But Harry is looking at Draco, and for a second he sees the vulnerability in the other boy’s face. Was his father really with the Death Eaters? Or had they just become separated? Despite his bravado Draco must be pretty scared out here all alone. Ah. Perhaps that was the reason for his antagonism – that is the way he knows how to get attention. Perhaps he just doesn’t want to be alone.
‘What about your father Potter? Which side do you think Snape is on tonight?’ Draco jeers, but after his revelation Harry doesn’t rise to it.
‘He’s on ours of course.’ Hermione insists.
‘It’s alright Hermione.’ Harry says. ‘Come on, let’s find somewhere safe. Mum and dad’ll be here soon I reckon. You coming Malfoy?’ He calls over his shoulder.
Draco mutters something under his breath, as Ron scowls at Harry, but thankfully keeps his mouth shut, and Draco follows them a little way behind as they make their way further into the trees.
As it grows darker still, Harry reaches for his wand and freezes.
‘Oh Merlin.’ He pats all his pockets, then spins around looking at the floor, but it is deeply in shadow.
‘What’s the matter Harry?’ Hermione asks.
‘My wand… I… I must have dropped it.’ He murmurs.
‘Merlin Potter, you really are useless.’ Draco mutters, pulling his own wand to cast a lumos.
They all search around on the floor for a minute, but when another bang sounds from the campsite they decide they’s better keep going.
~~
Severus slinks through the shadows, avoiding the stragglers running screaming between the rows of tents. Forty feet or so away one of the canvas structures is on fire, orange flames licking towards the sky which appears pure black in contrast.
A stifled squeal alerts him before he trips over two small children huddled together between the guy ropes of the nearest tent. Their panicked eyes stare up at him, faces almost white, the slightly older one clamping their sibling’s mouth shut. Severus is used to his students being afraid of him, but not to this extent. These two are definitely under Hogwarts age, and he suddenly realises what a resemblance to the attackers he must have. He crouches down and pulls back his hood, placing a finger over his lips.
‘It’s alright.’ He intones in the voice he generally keeps for homesick first years. ‘See that tent back there with the green flags?’ He points behind him.
The older child nods cautiously.
‘Turn left there and keep going till you get to the trees. You will be safe there.’ He hopes. ‘You know which way left is?’
The older child eagerly holds up their left hand.
‘Good. Go, and do not stop until you get there.’
The children scramble to their feet and run in the direction he had instructed. Severus covers their escape, then pulls up his hood and continues.
As he gets closer to the seeming source of the disturbance there are more tents on fire, and screams not just of fear, but pain. The air smells of burnt cloth and scorched flesh, and the feel of magic dances through the air like static electricity.
A chilling scream rips through the night. He knows which spell elicits that sound. Crucio.
A few meters further on he spots a group of cloaked figures moving along a parallel path. Severus flattens himself into a shadow, just as one of them turns their head.
Up until that point he had held on to the vain hope that perhaps some hooligans had gotten out of hand and caused a riot, and that the rest of the visitors had simply over reacted, jumping to the worst conclusion. But under the hood of the cloaked figure a sickeningly familiar mask shines white in the darkness. He had once worn that mask himself. He still owned it. Locked away in a box in the bottom of a cupboard underneath a stack of old papers. Just in case.
Actually, it could have been useful right now.
Severus weaves like a silent shadow around the area. There are a two or three smaller groups of masked figures conducting minor acts of vandalism, plus a large group in an open area between some food stalls which are mostly destroyed. They cannot possibly all be marked Death Eaters. As far as he is aware only a dozen, maybe twenty at most, had escaped death or imprisonment at the end of the last war. And of that number how many would not only willingly return, but engage in such a brazen attack in such a public place out of nowhere? Also his mark is not burning. Whatever state his former master is in, he had not called these so-called Death Eaters here.
Many of them must be new recruits. Though recruited by whom… that was a question for later. The advantage is that they will probably not be well trained. Still, they seem to be doing an adequate job of keeping the Aurors and tournament security at bay.
The largest group of attackers are holding off the rather tentative offensive of the dozen or so wizards trying to stop them. To be fair to the Aurors, it wouldn’t do to accidentally hit the muggles that the Death Eaters have taken as… hostages, or playthings – probably both. Severus feels a stab of empathy for the woman dangled upside down with her undergarments on display, though that is probably the least of her worries. The husband has clearly been cruciod several times, and the children are not fairing much better.
This group may not be made up of hardcore original Death Eaters, but there is a good chance that if they are not stopped – and soon – the muggle family will be tortured to death whilst the Aurors look on, too scared or inexperienced to deal with this level of attack. Where are the die hard Aurors Severus has had to deal with in the past? For once he might even have been glad to see Alastair fucking Moody.
‘Hey!’ Someone calls out behind him. Severus twists slightly, careful to keep his face covered. Right now either side might count him as one of their own, and that suits him quite well thank you. ‘Is that you Carrow?’ One of the two masked figures calls out.
‘No names you fucking imbecile!’ The other growls back.
Severus simply slides up his left sleeve and shows his mark, careful to keep his face turned away.
‘Oh. Death to the blood traitors.’ The first one mumbles.
Severus nods and slips away. Then he doubles back around and stuns them both from behind.
As he circles around to try to get to the main group a different pair of figures comes running towards the fray. These ones are not cloaked, and seem to be aiming to assist the Aurors. In a flash of light from a spell he recognises Arthur Weasley and Sirius Black. Fuck. If they have left those kids unattended he will flay them both himself. He moves quickly to intercept them, but notices a flicker of movement a little way behind them. He raises his wand as if to cast upon the running Gryffindors, revealing his position to the potential attackers, and causing them to pause as they try to decide who’s side this new cloaked but unasked figure is on. It is all the time he needs.
His wand hand flicks away from Weasley and Black, and towards their would be attackers, casting Oppugno silently as he does so. The fabric from several nearby tents immediately wraps around the Death Eaters, and Severus follows up with Stricta to bind them tightly within the fabric.
‘Where are the children?’ Severus demands striding up to Arthur and Sirius.
‘What the fuck are you doing here Snape?’ Sirius retorts with more than a little suspicion.
‘Yes I’m here to attack my own fucking son…’ Severus spits back, but is interrupted by Arthur.
‘They’re safe.’ Arthur assures him. ‘We sent them to the emergency evacuation point in the woods. Thanks for that by the way.’ He nods towards the struggling forms of the Death Eaters.
‘You’re welcome.’ Severus mutters, scanning the area and deciding whether to help here or turn back.
A sickening scream as the muggle woman is subjected to crucio partially makes up his mind. No reason he can’t do both.
Sirius and Arthur run to help the Aurors, but Severus remains in the shadows, crouching behind the charred remains of a stall. Half burned rags flutter from a hook with the words “Chud… Cann…” printed on the remaining cloth. A small marquee off to the left is half collapsed and Severus aims his wand at the ropes. He’s never actually used this spell, but had committed it to memory some years ago as it had sounded useful. It was technically Dark Arts of course, but hopefully rare enough not to draw too much attention. Plus he’s not planning on being seen by either side.
‘Funes Diaboli.’ He murmurs, circling his wand, then directing the ropes. It takes a lot of focus and energy, but once the spell is cast, the ropes hurtle forwards as if chased by the devil himself. One grabs the ankle of the Death Eater who had been casting the Crucio, another wraps around the waist of the wizard levitating up the male muggle, a third whips at the mask of the wizard holding the children captive. Severus knows from personal experience that those masks are brittle, and will shatter pieces into the eyes if broken. The Death Eater cries out and clutches at his face.
Thankfully the Aurors and security staff are not completely incompetent, and take this opportunity to rush the main group, rescuing the muggles and taking down most of the Death Eaters in the process.
Severus remains in the shadows, waiting just long enough to see that things are under control before he turns to his main purpose; locating his family. As he turns to leave, however, he notices another figure leaving the area. This one in a white mask.
He follows at a careful distance, weaving back through the network of tents, maintaining a couple of rows distance from his prey. The figure is heading towards the woods at a steady, deliberate pace. What was one lone Death Eater planning to do? It is possible that he was simply planning to escape by blending in with the other tournament visitors, but Severus’ own dark side provides a more dangerous possibility: if he were wanting to cause a much damage as possible, casting fiendfire into a forest full of civilians would do the trick.
Severus clamps down on his fear, and continues his pursuit. If the Death Eater is planning something like that, he must not let them out of his sight. At the last row before the crowded campsite gives way to an open area of field the Death Eater ducks behind a large tent. Severus waits, and waits, but sees no further movement. He weighs up the risks, and moves closer, stepping over ropes and leaning to keep his body as much in the shadows as possible. Grasping his wand tightly, he whips around the side of the tent.
Empty.
He spins around, for a second certain that he has somehow miscalculated and the Death Eater will be behind him. But no. The entire area is completely empty and silent.
What the fuck?
There is no point standing around like an idiot, even if he feels like one, so he sprints across the open area towards the trees, using logic and instinct to guide him towards the meeting point, and hopefully Harry and Petronella. But as he nears the edge of the trees a sickly green light rises from the canopy, curling into a ball above the tree tops, before taking a shape which freezes his insides to ice. The image that is also burned into the flesh of his forearm. Morsmordre. The Dark Mark.
~~
It doesn’t take Petra very long to locate Harry, though she is surprised to find Draco with them. She had been following the flow of people into the trees, swooping from branch to branch, until a light caught her eye, and low and behold her son was at the source of it. She transforms a few meters away and appears from behind a tree.
‘Mum!’ Harry exclaims in relief.
‘Alright?’ Petra frowns, holding her son by the shoulders and inspecting him for injuries – again. ‘Any of you injured?’ She asks, and they all shake their heads.
‘No Professor.’ Hermione answers.
‘Harry lost his wand.’ Draco offers.
‘Draco!’
‘You’re such a snitch.’ Ron glares at him.
‘Accio.’ Petra calls out, holding out her hand.
They all stand awkwardly for a moment, and Petra frowns, then eventually retracts her hand.
‘Where are the others?’ She asks instead.
‘We got separated. The twins were looking after Ginny…’ Harry hopes Petra won’t tell the other kids off.
‘What about Arthur and Sirius?’ She frowns.
‘They went to help the Aurors.’ Ron says.
‘But Charlie and Percy were with us. It’s not their fault…’
‘Alright Harry. I’m not going to give anyone a detention.’ Petra rolls her eyes, then she suddenly freezes and looks towards the shadows.
‘Shh.’ She waves the children to get behind her and pulls her wand.
There is a faint sizzle and a green light shoots up above the canopy.
‘Satan and Lucifer.’ Petra whispers, then aims her wand in the direction from which the spell had been cast. ‘Somnus.’ She intones. The bushes on the other side of the clearing rustle and there is a light thud.
‘What… what is that?’ Harry whispers staring at the sky above their heads.
‘Don’t you recognise it?’ Draco mutters darkly.
Petra is about to investigate whom she might have put to sleep with her spell, when another movement on the other side of the clearing captures her attention, and she turns quickly, but immediately recognises Severus’ form even before he has stepped from the shadows. They run towards each other, grab each other’s arms and lean their foreheads together a moment.
‘Harry…’ Severus looks over her shoulder.
‘He’s fine.’ Petra responds, leading the way back. ‘And I picked up a couple of strays.’
Severus raises a brow at the odd party.
‘Arthur and Sirius are fine.’ He states. ‘I didn’t see Lucius.’
Draco looks down and kicks at some dried leaves.
‘We should go.’ Severus says, his eyes flicking to the green mark floating almost right over their heads. There are shouts and cries coming from further into the trees, as other spectators begin to notice the sigil which had meant fear and death wherever it was seen for the duration of the last war. Before Petra can tell him about whomever is lying knocked out on the other side of the clearing, never mind investigate it, there are several popping noises.
Severus and Petra whirl around, and throw up a strong shield charm.
‘STUPEFY!’ Comes a chorus of voices, and at least a dozen spells crack against their shield.
‘Stop! Stop!’ Cries a voice, and two of the figures come running forward. ‘Friendlies!’ Arthur Weasley calls out as he jogs forward waving his arms in the air, Sirius close behind him. ‘Ron, Ron, are you alright? Where are the others?’
Most of the Aurors have lowered their wands, but one of the group comes storming forward, eyes blazing as he stares directly at Severus.
‘Snape!’ He exclaims, pointing his wand aggressively.
Severus’ posture tenses slightly, though he lowers his wand.
‘Minister Crouch.’ His tone is clipped and cautious.
‘I might have known I’d find you here Snape.’ Crouch almost spits. ‘Don’t think Dumbledore can get you out of this one.’
‘Barty…’ It is Arthur who steps forward, though some of the Aurors look equally uncomfortable. ‘Severus had nothing to do with this, in fact…’
‘A known Death Eater, found at the source of the Morsmordre which was cast only moments ago?!’ Crouch advances a step, and Petra goes to block him, but Severus hold up a hand to her.
‘That is circumstantial at best.’ Severus states.
‘Enough to detain you.’ Crouch intones.
‘No!’ Harry pipes up, running over, somewhat oblivious to the precarious nature of the situation.
‘Harry stay back.’ Severus warns.
‘You can’t arrest my father.’ Harry insists, stepping into the faint light. ‘I won’t let you.’
Crouch wavers slightly, his eyes resting on the boy.
‘Harry Potter.’ He states, his eyes flicking between the boy and the man. He knows of course – everyone knows who Harry Potter’s parents are – Crouch himself had been one of those most emphatically opposed to the adoption. Luckily his current post as Minister for the Department of International Magical Co-operation had no say over the affairs of the Department for Child Services, and his pleas had fallen flat.
‘You may wish to check behind that bush over there.’ Petra says to Arthur, Sirius, and Kingsley – who has stepped forward looking as though he would like to interrupt his former boss. ‘I believe you may find your culprit.’
Crouch does not complain, nor does he lower his wand, and after a moment the three men cross to the bush Petra is pointing to. They disappear into the shadows, then emerge a moment later holding a sleeping house elf, a wand still clutched in her hand.
Crouch does lower his wand then, with a small gasp.
‘Do you know this elf Minister?’ Kingsley asks, laying the elf on the grass between them, and extracting the wand.
‘That… that’s my elf… Winky…’ Crouch mutters, confusion and shock warring on his features.
‘Finite.’ Petra waves her hand and the elf begins to stir.
‘You’re trying to tell me my own elf cast… this?’ Crouch waves a hand at the sky where the green skull and snake still hangs ominously. ‘Preposterous!’
‘There is an easy way to find out.’ Kingsley says, proffering the wand on his palm.
Petra and Severus exchange a glance. They both recognise that wand.
‘How was a house elf in possession of a wand in the first place, one must wonder.’ Severus comments, getting ahead of the game as per usual.
‘Well I assume she stole it, though from whom…’ Arthur sighs.
‘Oh…’ Harry steps forward. ‘Er… I think that may be my wand sir.’
Crouch looks suspiciously between the father and son again.
‘Test both wands.’ He instructs. Waving one of the Aurors forward.
‘Isn’t this up to the Auror Department to decide?’ Sirius puts in, having picked up that this situation might not be in the best interests of his godson.
‘As Minister for the DIMC I am in charge of security for this event.’ Crouch retorts. ‘Snape you will hand your wand over, or I shall instruct these Aurors to arrest you and your son right now!’
Kingsley again appears decidedly uncomfortable, but before he can say anything Severus holds his wand out, handle first, with a sneer.
‘I think you will find the last spells I cast match those used to tie up several of the attackers this evening.’ He comments in a bored tone. ‘You’re welcome, by the way.’
The wands are tested, Kingsley taking Snape’s wand himself, and though he looks a little surprised by what he finds, does not comment other than to confirm Severus’ claims. Harry’s wand is found to indeed have been the one which cast Morsmordre, and the tension weighs heavy in the air upon that revelation.
‘Teaching your son to follow in your footsteps Snape?’ Crouch accuses. ‘I don’t know how you came by my house elf…’
‘You think this is a conspiracy?’ Petra interrupts. ‘To what? Implicate you some how? That makes no sense at all. Even if that were remotely logical we certainly wouldn’t have used our own son’s wand to do it.’ She states incredulously. ‘That would be utterly stupid.’
‘It seems to me if anyone is being framed it would be us.’ Severus adds smoothly.
‘I have to say I agree Minister Crouch.’ Kingsley says. ‘It may even have been a tactic to get us arguing amongst ourselves. And quite an effective one I would say, as the real perpetrator is likely long gone by now.’
Crouch purses his lips, but bows to the irrefutable logic of the situation.
‘Search the woods there!’ He instructs the Aurors. ‘Be careful of civilians. Kingsley you are in charge of overseeing the evacuation.’
‘Of course Minister.’
‘Snape, we’ll be wanting to speak to you. And Blishwick. Don’t leave the country.’ Crouch growls.
Severus scoffs and rolls his eyes, and Crouch disappears into the trees
‘Right. Well. That was exciting.’ Arthur hums, his cheery tone belying the worry beneath his voice. ‘I must find the others. You’re welcome to come back to the burrow.’ He offers.
‘No thank you. We shall be returning home now.’ Severus states impassively.
‘Right. Well I’m not sure when we will be able to retrieve the tent and the rest of our belongings, but one of us will bring your things back for you Harry.’
‘Thanks Arthur.’ Petra murmurs
‘Thanks.’ Harry forces a smile.
Sirius hangs back a moment while Arthur heads off with Ron and Hermione towards the emergency meeting point. He glances at Harry, but seems to realise he is rather surplus to requirements.
‘This didn’t quite turn out how I wanted.’ He smiles wryly. ‘You take care kiddo.’ He says, then runs off after the others.
‘Come with us.’ Severus instructs Draco. ‘I’ll have Filly take you home.’
‘Thank you sir, but I told father I’d wait for him here.’ Draco responds.
‘Very well.’ Severus pats him on the shoulder and they prepare to leave.
‘We can’t just leave him here on his own!’ Harry protests.
‘Save your tears Potter.’ Draco huffs. ‘You’re the one who nearly got arrested tonight.’
‘Come on Harry.’ Petra says, handing him his wand, and nodding to Draco. She doesn’t much like the idea of leaving him here either, but Draco will get in trouble if he does not follow his father’s instructions. Besides he’s not exactly a target. No one would dare lay a finger on the son of Lucius Malfoy – apart from Lucius Malfoy himself that is. ‘Looking forward to reading that extra summer assignment I gave you on elemental magic Mr Malfoy.’ She says. Draco smiles and nods back.
Severus takes hold of Harry’s arm, and then the world is twisting and spinning as they apparate back to the gates of the Blishwick Manor.
~~~~~