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"You! Narcissa! Examine the Boy! Tell me whether he is dead!" he heard a deep shrill voice say some distance away from him. It was unmistakably Voldemort's.

Narcissa? His mind was still a little dazed. He had heard that name before. Before he could pin point the identity his mind provided him with a visual. Long straight blonde hair, thin face, pursed lips, blue eyes and a nose wrinkled in disgust. Narcissa, Narcissa Malfoy. Mother of one Draco Malfoy. Thorn in his side, Arch nemesis, evil git, Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy that he had just rescued a little while ago from certain death by fiendfyre that one of his cronies had conjured in the room of requirements. With Ron and Hermione. They had barely escaped. Ron and Hermione. His friends, his life. He did have a life. It was waiting for him back at Hogwarts, for one last show down. He knew it all now and he refused to die, he of all people had been given a chance for some reason and he had never been one to give up on a chance to do something right.

But now time to kill was closing in. His hand closed in on the wand that was still tucked under his jumper, Draco Malfoy's wand. Narcissa Malfoy was all that stood between him and Voldemort and certain death. He reeled in a slow breath. Just as he felt something soft and silky touch his face, a soft hand, in a gesture softer than he expected, brushing against his face and then a finger pressed tenderly against his neck.

"Draco? Is he in the castle?" she whispered so near to his ear. He knew she could give him away any moment and if she wanted the reassurance before she gave him away, well, he could not deny a mother. He was not Voldemort.

"Yes." he exhaled slowly, a whisper only lower than hers as he felt the pressure of her hand moving from his neck to his chest, it clenched at his jumper for a moment before letting go.

"Survive Potter! For my Draco…" She whispered at him fiercely. It was an order, a plea all in one.

Survive for her Draco? The statement seemed very odd until he heard something even odder.

"He is dead My Lord." She said in a loud and clear voice.

There were suddenly whoops and cheers from all sides. Someone howled in despair at the same time. His heart skipped a beat, he felt so still with shock that he could really be mistaken for dead for a split second, that was before gratitude, awe and determination rushed in. He braced himself for the final test. He needed to play his cards right. He had been given a chance. One last move. To kill, to live. He knew now the power he had which Voldemort did not. He knew that he would succeed.

"Narcissa Malfoy died sometime last night in her sleep. The Malfoy solicitor informed us early this morning." Kingsley Shacklebolt pinches the bridge of his nose wearily.

The news is no surprise for Harry. A house elf from the manor informed him within an hour of her death last night. After all, he was one of the very few she still allowed visits to in her final days. As strange as it was to Harry. He was almost sure that he had been the only social visitor to the woman who was once belle of every social ball.

He silently wonders, as he has done numerous times before, exactly when and how his silent relationship with Mrs. Malfoy developed. He thinks it started after Lucius Malfoy's death four years ago. With loss of Draco and Lucius both, there was no one left for Narcissa, who had taken a vow of silence after the war. Or so Harry believes she did, he is not quite sure.
Many do not know the fact, that the last ten words that Narcissa Malfoy uttered in her life were divided evenly between the dark lord and Harry Potter. They also do not know that were those ten words never spoken, the result of the war could have been very different. At least that is what Harry believes in his heart. And so he likes to think that even if no one knows now, Narcissa Malfoy knew the importance of those words, as did he, which is perhaps why she chose never to speak another word. Narcissa Malfoy was a Black before becoming a Malfoy, and no intensity of Trauma could suppress a Black from speaking if they so wished. Only their own resolve could. Harry would know. He still lived with a few of them.

'Mothers'. Harry thinks. They are such peculiar things. There was his own, who gave her life for him. There is Mrs. Weasley, who took a life for her child and then there was Narcissa Malfoy, who saved Harry and killed another for her child, because she did give that head start to Harry by lying to Voldemort which ultimately lead to his destruction for good. All of it, she did for her child. A child she never got to see again. Harry wondered if she ever regretted her decision, while he sat in front of her silently many evening. He wondered if she regretted saving him, he wondered if she wanted to see Draco sitting there in front of her. She never showed it, not a micro expression of her ever gave away what she was really thinking, feeling, enduring. It frustrated him at times. If he is true to himself, at this very moment it grieves him too. 

So how does one react to the news of the death of someone who they never particularly liked yet owed their life to in a strange bizarre way? Someone they shared a silent, inexplicable, allegiance with. Someone they visited twice a month religiously for a silent cup of tea and never spoke a word to.

She had never welcomed Harry, but she had never turned him away as well. His relationship with the Malfoys has never been simple. He cannot claim that he ever understood them or their motives. There always have been many unknown variables for Harry. The past is just too complicated. And in the present Harry can feel the minister is waiting for his reaction to the news he has just delivered.

"I see, that is grave news." Harry says pensively. He does feel a strange sense of loss and some dread too. He know why he is here sitting in front of the Minister. He know what is about to be asked of him. He also know that he would say yes. That is one of the many things the war changed, Harry feels. Loss makes the previously brave, hypocrites.

Malfoy estate remains one of the biggest and richest estates in the whole of Europe. The Ministry that is still struggling seven years after the war, has been salivating after Malfoy wealth since the end of the war. Harry know he made a controversial decision when he supported the Malfoys in the trials after the war. More though, to be fair, more than actual support, it was Harry doing the right thing in his own books. But it was fact, that had he not stood in the way the estate would have been dissolved years ago. He is merely senior Auror by designation but his standing in the wizarding world is still undisputed in places where it matters. And it wasn't just because he was "The saviour".

He often wonders what it is that he lost in the war to be exact, because he lost something essential, but to date, he can't figure out what it exactly was. Innocence? He had very little to begin with. Loved ones? Some died before he could love them and many survived. Sense of purpose perhaps? No, he still has some purpose. He feels it in my bones at times.

"Yes, The Malfoys are extinct now." Harry is brought out of his thoughts once again, only to see the Minister with his eyes narrowed now, he is trying to sell the point and make Harry agreeable even if he refuses to participate.

Harry wonders about it, when this man in front of him, Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the most powerful and important members of the order of the Phoenix during the second war, has turned into a shrewd politician. He reminds Harry now of both Fudge and Scrimgeour. Harry had naively thought in the beginning that things would be different. That Shacklebolt would be different, but Harry realized soon after the war was over, that while things change, and people change, many things remain the same with such stubbornness that they change people you never thought could change. Position and social standing is one such thing. And while Kingsley Shacklebolt is different from what he was, He is very much similar to what any Minister of magic has been in the past.

"But as it is, it is not my biggest concern. My biggest concern is the Manor. It was undeniably one of the Dark lord's head quarters. You know better than most how these ancient wards work. Though I thoroughly trust your competence and the close watch you have kept on the manor for the past few years, it remains a possibility that there might still be some dark artifacts that the manor could be hiding on its own." 

Harry raises a proper inquiring brow at that. This keeping face is important to Harry. Not many know of his continued visits to the Manor on ministry's time and even less know of his private visits. Not many know that the Manor wards allow Harry in. Even after Narcissa's death. As he had just visited to overlook the arrangements that the House-elves were putting together to facilitate an open wake for the deceased.

"Customarily, the wards come down by themselves a day before Mrs. Malfoy's wake which we hear is set for next Friday. The seven day limit would be over, but for the sake of propriety, I want to delay the search until the day after the wake for Mrs. Malfoy. We have tried our best that the Malfoy honor remains intact, but now the pressure is too much Harry. I would have waited longer but you do understand that now that there is no nominated blood heir to the Malfoy estate, the Estate would automatically come under the care of the ministry. So I have decided to send you with a group of Aurors, a curse-breaker and some of our best Unspeakables to search the Manor for all kinds of dark magic and artifacts. Understand, that I respect what she did for us in the final battle despite her family's allegiances. This is why I want you to lead the search. Properly and discreetly of course, before I send in the team from Gringotts to make a final estimation for the worth of the estate."

Kingsley takes a deep breath as he utters the last sentence of what seems like a well-rehearsed speech. Harry knows he unnerves him. Harry is aware that he unnerves many people, even some who knew him before he returned from the impossible task. He does not know if it is just him or his Magic, which he realizes might be a formidable thing if he himself had to confront it in someone else.

The minister brings the cup of tea to his mouth, hiding his face, reminding Harry that he has a similar cup of tea in front of him waiting. Harry decides to ignore it. The minister and his Tea are not for him he decides resignedly. 

"Very well Minister, I am glad for your concern about propriety. I would gladly lead the search of the manor this coming Saturday. I do have one request though." Harry regulates his tone to sound as bored and unaffected as possible.

"Come Harry! No formalities, you only have to say." the minister is anxious. Harry can see his apprehension shining in his deep dark eyes. Harry knows the minister wishes terribly that Harry was still the same boy he met nine years ago, who was so in awe of him. Well, sadly enough Harry wishes he was the same man too as he was nine years ago. Alas…

"I would like to select the people who will aid me in this… endeavor… myself." Harry says standing from his seat. It takes Shacklebolt a moment to understand that Harry is taking the offer he made very literally. Harry is indeed telling him, not asking. No formalities indeed.

"Ron…. Hermione… Harry greets them casually as he reaches them at the far side of the Restaurant's outdoor compound.

"Ah! Mate! I thought you would never show up! I am starving!" Ron says huffing, his cheeks flushed, Harry shoots a look at Hermione who also looks somewhat flushed, her eyes shining, posture a little stiff. They still try to hide it when they are being amourous. They never grew out of the habit. Harry looks at them both keenly with a look he hopes rivals the one Dumbledore used to give. He likes to tease them about it, it makes him happy. 

It is a beautiful day and he is thankful that his friends have chosen the outdoor tables at Finnegan's where they usually have their lunch on days the work is slow enough to take a long lunch break. It is a crisp spring afternoon. The sky is blue and the sun is golden with fluffy white clouds floating leisurely. A perfect kind of day. On days like these he likes to lie on the grass in the back garden of his home, Grimmauld place, and just stare at the sky. Given that such a day falls on his off day. Yes that would be perfect. But it is not to be had. So Harry would make do with whatever he gets.

Thankfully this side of the restaurant does not face the main part of the Diagon Alley. The beautiful canopy above them turns a solemn Beige color from the Yellow that it was before. Harry knows that both Ron and Hermione notice this.

Finnegan's is owned by their old school friend and fellow Gryffindor, the Irish pyromaniac Seamus Finnegan. Oddly enough in the three years of its running the kitchen has not suffered from a single fire incident. These canopies that adorn the open backyard of the restaurant were gifted to Seamus on the opening by the three of them. They are inlaid with a mild empathy charm which evaluates the mood of the occupants and changes color accordingly. Currently Finnegan's is winding down from the Lunch rush so there are only a few canopied tables filled so Harry decides against deactivating the charm.

"I ordered the special for you with the lemon soda" Hermione says her smile guarded. Harry smiles at her, removing his muted crimson Auror cloak and placing it on the back of his chair and opening a few buttons to loosen the collar of his scarlet Auror robes that feel somewhat stifling today. Sometimes she just knows him too well, like a mother knows what the baby wants and precisely when. Harry loves her for it. She has stood by him since he was a scrawny eleven year old with nothing but oversized, broken glasses , a mop of shaggy black hair and a lightning bolt scar to show for himself. Through thick and thin he always knew that Hermione would be by his side, No matter what. She is his rock. He turns to Ron who is also looking at him cautiously.

Ron is his rope. Sometimes he pulls Harry out of a precarious situation and sometimes he ties him down while Harry descends into risky depth, like a safety harness, before he makes a fool of himself. Harry often feels very…Compensated these days. If he was robbed of parents, He has friends like Ron and Hermione to look out for him. Especially now.

He knows he worries them. With his workaholic tendencies and refusal to settle down. Harry knows he worries them a lot with his badly covered loneliness and occasional bitterness. Sometimes they say jokingly that they feel Harry is possessed by Severus Snape's spirit. The way Harry broods and observes silently. It is difficult for them to accept that he has always been this way. It was just that from the time they met him and the formative years of their friendship they were in the middle of the war which brought out extreme emotions and reactions from Harry alongside the constant need for communication.

Now that his life is normal for the first time, He is his normal self. He is the boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs with wall spiders for company. The boy who understands cruelty and malice the way most people don't. The boy who learned that the only way to keep surviving was by pretending you don't exist. The boy who learnt to make choices for the greater good rather than himself when he was finally given a choice. The boy who had willingly given himself to death and destruction to save everything. You don't make a choice like that lightly and just become all sunshine and cheers afterwards, not after you have been touched by evil in the ways he had been when he was just a boy. He is now that boy grown into a man. He understands the madness, the sadness, but he also accepts that those things affected him. They are a part of who he is now. Ingrained deep enough to not harm when dealt with, but impossible to change. What no one realizes is that people like him do not have a place in normal life, not in the normal sense at least.

"So how did it go with Kingsley Harry?"Hermione asks finally. She is one of the few who knew about his tentative and silent relationship with Narcissa.

"He wants to do the pillaging the day after the Wake. I am surprised that he was still piping about propriety and all that shit when we all know that all he wants is to gobble down the wealthiest wizarding estate in all of Europe. The good part is he wants me to do the pillaging and the best part is I was able to tell him that if I was about to do it, I would like to do so with my own selection of Aurors and Unspeakables." He gives her a meaningful look.

"Of course we would go with you Harry." she says extending her hand to touch his over the table. It is such a familiar gesture from her it makes him feel like a Twelve year old again, whom she soothed by telling that the one wizard Voldemort was scared of was Dumbledore, and as long as Dumbledore was around, no harm could come to them. Harry knows he fell in love with her that night. That night made his bond with Hermione unbreakable. Like a bond between a brother and sister, made of same flesh and blood. All his friendships and relationships suffered strain at some point or another, including Ron. But never with Hermione. Hermione stayed with him. Always.

"I cannot ask you after what happened the last time you were there." despite his heart's protesting, he still wants her to make this decision herself and save herself some unnecessary pain. He sees a shadow flicker in her eyes. The last time she had been inside the Malfoy Manor she had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's most loyal and ardent death-eater, Psychopathic sister of Narcissa Malfoy. The scars from Hermione's last visit to the manor are still etched on her skin. He knows asking this of her is a lot. The scars from the wars fade but never heal.

"No Harry, it was a different time and different circumstance. It does not matter anymore, in fact I would take it as a challenge!" she says beaming at him, the shadow of her previous thoughts passing quickly.

"Yes Harry, it's not like you have to ask me you know." Ron pipes up. Shrugging at Harry, before meticulously opening his cuffs and rolling them up as if he is about to get very handsy with something.

"You are my partner Ron, where I go you go, where you go, I go." Harry jokes dismissively to dismantle the brooding atmosphere just as the waiter starts to serve the food explaining Ron's sleeve rolling.

"You see now Mione! You often ask me where I got the inspiration to name our son.. that's where! I go, you go, Hugo. Get it?" he says biting off half of a piece of garlic bread hastily and snorting, spewing crumbs all over. Some things never change. Harry snickers.

"If that was your attempt at a Dad Joke. As Arthur Weasley's son, It was pathetic!" Hermione snaps at him snootily, which soon changes into an expression of adoration when Ron grins at her still chewing. It makes Harry's heart clench somewhat. Witnessing happiness like this makes him more cautious, He feels protective of it. He cannot help but fear that something bad is going to happen just around the corner. It is natural. They are his best friends, married with two children and excellent careers with Ron, an Auror and a damn good one and Hermione an unspeakable and secretary supervisor for the department of mysteries. They have everything pegged down to perfection just like Harry's parents did before he came along and it was all shattered into smithereens. He is the product of that perfect happiness and profound tragedy, the most tainted, jaded and imperfect being he knows. So, he watches like a hawk. This is perhaps one of the reasons he can never bring myself to settle down. He is what always goes wrong.

It was pretty much expected that he would marry Ginny right after the war. It just never happened. Their relationship was more broken than it was ever formed. He figured that he never had the passion for her. They were not compatible as lovers at all and they tried, quite a few times on and off until Two years ago when she finally decided to settle down with none other than Seamus. Now they have a very casual and easy friendship. No grudges, no broken hearts. Harry could not have asked for a better ending to that affair. Ginny is now pregnant with her first child and has already asked him to be the Godfather. Which would make Harry the Godfather of five children in total. He is a very busy man.

Lupin and Tonks' Teddy, George and Angelina's Freddie, Ron and Hermione's Rose and Hugo, and Ginny and Seamus' unnamed offspring all rely on Harry for all kinds of guidance in the future, from pranks to Quidditch and career counseling to matters of the heart… Gods save them! Harry is grateful that Fred is gay and Godfather to the rest of George's and Bill and Fleur's children. It is sort of daunting to be Godfather to five children at the age of Twenty-four but then again, most of his friends are parents. He has nothing to complain.

He would be lying if he said that he didn't take special pride in being the undisputed favorite person of all his God children including the Unborn one, who bestowed Harry with its first kick ever just two days ago. Oh Yes, he is sure everyone sees his pride. He vowed to himself when he became Godfather to Teddy that he would be everything for Teddy that Sirius would have been for him had fate allowed. Harry worked hard at it and there is nothing more rewarding to him than when he sees his God children jump up and down at the mere sight of him. No matter how many times he sees them during the week it's never enough for him, or them. So, yes, Harry is a very busy man.

He cannot blame his luck though as Hermione often points out for him. He, himself never particularly goes out of his way to score a date with someone, and the dates he does go on never work out very well.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice brings him out of his musings.

"So, do you think we should go on Thursday and put up temporary wards on the manor until after the wake when we start the search? Just so none of the people invited to the wake venture inside and take anything that does not belong to them?" Ron asks chewing thoughtfully on his Pasta. Harry notices the identical order placed in front of him for the first time.

"I think that's a good idea." says Hermione. "We'll do it on Thursday." Harry nods sighing happily at the tangy taste of his favorite lemon soda with extra ice.

"How did she die though? You never told us in the note." Ron asks after a few moments of silence during which Harry shovels down half of his pasta, he does not realize how hungry he was. The question stumps him for a split second before he realizes just how much he has kept such a big part of his life relating to this from his best friend. Malfoys and all their affairs were classified and shoved behind a strict black ribbon by the ministry from the get-go. In the beginning, Harry's conjecture was that there must be more secrets hiding in the Malfoy records than anyone let on. Lucius Malfoy, after all, was a power player in politics and the social fabric of the wizarding society, especially in the years that Voldemort was without a corporal form. But after years of going through everything the Malfoy Manor had to offer, Harry realized that it was probably the vastness of the Malfoy wealth with no heir-apparent which made the ministry so wary about making any records about them public. Harry meets Hermoine gaze for a moment. She is an unspeakable, of course she would never tell even if she knew. Her look tells him, that she figured it out by herself, and now he is confirming it too. Harry figures there is no point in keeping this information from Ron anymore. Narcissa is gone, Lucius is gone... and Draco is gone too. Harry's grip around his fork tightens. He can almost feel Hermoine sensing his discomfort and preparing to jump in for his cover, but before she can, Harry has come to a decision.

"Broken Magical core. It was consuming her for the past Seven years. I think she finally decided to give up."

Ron pales significantly at that and Harry realizes that his tone is rather nonchalant. It's hard to explain why his tone would come out like that. It is not that he is heartless. It is just that he witnessed Narcissa's suffering for past 4 years very up close and personal. He had felt the impending doom she must have felt as she was wasting away and nothing could be done about it.

It was the final gift Voldemort left for his followers. With his final annihilation, all bearers of the dark mark suffered from a severe magical backlash that shattered their core magic as it was what the dark mark was bound to. Sort of a magic exploding device in the form of a curse that was tied to the dark mark. Ironically enough, its intensity also had to do with the bearers of the dark mark's level of devotion. There was some mercy there for his most devout followers who suffered immediately and intensely enough to die within days of Voldemort's death. The breaking of the Magical core is a painful and frustrating way to die in general but it was the less devout followers who suffered long-term. Their leaking and unstable magic slowly ate away at their body in order to find sustenance.

There were, of course, some unexpected few who belonged to Voldemort's inner circle yet survived for several years after his annihilation. A prime example was Lucius Malfoy who to everyone's surprise survived three years after the final battle, being the only one from Voldemort's inner circle to survive so long. He was a lot of help in the research into the BMCS (Broken Magical Core Syndrome), though all that research came to nothing and there was nothing that could be done to save these doomed death eater's lives. Nonetheless, some healers and curse-breakers tried to help genuinely out of a sense of humanity. It was not a sense that was shared by some, because it was impossible to get over the Death Eater's atrocities for many. But all told Lucius' life and death after Voldemort's end said a lot about his devotion and loyalty to Voldemort. 

So, the fact that Narcissa survived seven years after the fall of Voldemort is indeed a testament to how little devotion had to do with her bearing the mark even if her role in saving Harry during the final battle isn't enough proof. For Harry, It was still tragic to die because of an ideology one did not even believe in and was pushed into out of obligation to the man they loved and child they would do anything to save. He understood the silent Narcissa Malfoy. He understood her melancholy even if her face never showed it. He never commented on it, but he is somewhat glad that her suffering is finally over.

"I didn't know she was a death eater!" Ron sounds shaky and looks away from Harry and suddenly very interested in the red and white tablecloth.

"Not many know that Ron, and it's mainly because she wasn't. She carried the mark because she had no choice." Harry says it this time with the proper amount of solemnity and gravity. Ron seems hesitant to meet his gaze for some reason.

"Harry is right, what bigger proof of that than her survival for seven years after the war," Hermione says quietly, her expression contrite enough for the both of them. Harry sighs internally. Seven years and they are still walking on eggshells around him at times. Not that he does anything to discourage that.

Ron and Hermione have known from the beginning of his visits to the Malfoy manor, but they never asked him anything related to it. Harry was grateful for it in the beginning, knowing full well that it was by far the most out-of-character and impulsive thing he could be doing and then it just became a part of him that he never shared with anyone.

Harry does that with quite a few things. He now has his own secrets. It gives him a strange kind of thrill. He has a very heavily guarded private life and a secret fascination for ancient magics and wizarding traditions, which he shares even more secretly with Hermione. He has helped her pitch and successfully start around the Ministry and then Hogwarts as well, a special course regarding Wizarding traditions and etiquettes as an introductory course for Muggle-borns and those who had spent their childhood in the Muggle world.

It was initially to bridge the chasm between the surviving Pure-blood families and Muggle-borns of which someone like Tom Riddle had taken advantage of. Reconciliation was the only way. Hermione and Harry had put forward valid arguments and counter-arguments to reconcile the differences and ease the social barriers. Both sides were wary, and both criticized them, but it was a new age of peace and after four years of struggle, a wizarding tradition and etiquette class was introduced at Hogwarts and made compulsory for all Muggleborns taking their OWLs just as Muggle studies was made compulsory for all pure-blood students. At the same time, a class was also introduced for all Ministry trainees who were Muggleborns and another for all Pure-bloods. To acquaint them with wizarding and muggle traditions respectively. Covering all fronts was and is their motto.

"You both do know that you will be required to attend the wake right? You are related to the Malfoys, Ron, and the house-elves are arranging for a traditional pure-blood wake. This means all surviving relations attend no matter how many times removed. By my estimation, you will be receiving your summons in Two days time." Ron groans and grimaces at Harry's declaration while Hermione shoots him a bored and annoyed look.

"I hate pure-blood traditions!" Ron says, stretching his back as if out of tiredness, his face weary.

"There is nothing wrong with keeping up with old traditions, Ron. You should just make sure you don't disavow new ones and stop yourself from modernizing. As far as my understanding goes..." Ron rolls his eyes at this

"...All these traditions usually have a logical explanation or some kind of important symbolism at their roots. It is never good to let go of your roots. For example, An open pure-blood funeral wake requires the presence of all related family joined by blood and marriage as a symbol of unity and pride and the fact that family and death transcends all conflicts. You can take it as that. If you want you can dismiss all the nonsense gossip and pretentiousness that usually is a custom at these events and only focus on what is important."

Ron looks up towards the sky as if stopping himself from actually saying what he wants to say. No matter how annoyed he gets, he still respects his wife and will always be the biggest advocate and nurturer of her optimism. Ron's experiences in this particular respect are a sour point for him, But he's made sure Harry knows just exactly what Ron thinks about pure-blood tradition and where they should be shoved, during their many drunk private moments, in Hermoine's absence of course. 

Though Harry of course shares more of Hermoine's opinion, but Ron does not know to what extent and that is where Harry wants to keep Ron.

"So who is leading the ceremony?" Hermione asks once the table is cleared.

"Well, I will ask the Manor staff tomorrow if Narcissa herself nominated someone. Otherwise, I was thinking of asking Andromeda. She is the closest living relative of hers after all." Harry only hopes that Andromeda would look past the differences. Harry has already looked up the possibility of him leading it just in case no one else wants to. As he is the substitute head of the House of Black until Teddy comes of age. He will be in his right to do so. And Harry is glad to have the position should it be needed to utilize. He only hopes it wouldn't come to that. He is a Potter after all and the rivalry between Potters and Malfoys has always been legendary, which is one of the reasons Potters never married into Malfoys and hence have never been related. Were he not "Regent" lord of the House of Black he wouldn't be permitted to attend the Wake.

"I don't think Mrs. Tonks will want to Harry. The sisters never reconciled." Hermione says softly.

"Yes I know that, but still, they were sisters. I think Andromeda is kind enough to overlook her sister's mistakes in her death."

"I hope so Harry…" Hermione says sadly as they stand to leave the restaurant.

"This cannot be right!" Hermione frowns, her eyes closed and wand swishing in a complicated pattern. They are standing just outside of wards of the Manor grounds. Hermione and Ron are both accompanying Harry on this vigilante mission to ward the house of their, once arch nemesis for the sake of honor. Here they are, the golden trio indeed, just as they vowed five days ago. They are here to set up temporary security for the Manor just for the duration of two days after which the Ministry's ransacking of the manor would start, under Harry's command, but still it is a matter of honor.

"What is wrong?" Harry asks drawing closer to her. It is somewhat chilly despite the warming charm as it is half past midnight.

"The Ancient wards are still intact so are the blood wards. Are you sure Harry that the time of death was half past eleven?" she asks Harry, a skeptical look in her eyes just like she used to when they lied about homework back in the day.

"Yes. I checked and re-checked with the house elves." Harry answers hastily with conviction. He had also cast the time of death spell on Narcissa's body personally the day before when it was finally placed for viewing and paying respects in the Malfoy Ceremonial Hall, just a few hundred feet downhill, westward from where they stand. A white limestone monstrosity that is inspired by the design of the Greek Parthenon, only smaller and erected in the center of the Malfoy Burial plot.

"I see, but the strange thing is Harry, even if the ancient wards are still intact, there is no reason for the Blood wards to be intact as well. Narcissa Malfoy was a Malfoy by marriage not blood. While under her the Ancient wards would withstand, there is no reason for the blood wards to stay intact." She frowns some more and flips page after page of the book she had brought along for putting up the security wards whilst Ron holds his lighted wand over her head.

"Yes! But it still allows me in. See?" Harry says as he steps through the wrought-iron gate that opens with a slight push, and walks a few steps ahead onto the gravel walkway that leads towards the Manor before he walks back and across the gate. Hermione frowns some more.

"This doesn't make sense," Ron mutters irritably. 

"No, no, there must be an explanation for this!" Hermione says flipping through more pages and settling on one. Ron and Harry both watch her read for a minute before she snaps the book close, shoves it in Ron's chest, and steps forwards again her Wand drawn in a straight vertical line typical wand position to do anything with Wards. She gestures at them both to do the same as well. Harry steps up to her left while Ron joins on her right side drawing their wands in the identical position, same as Hermione, ready to aid her in her casting. They have done it quite a few times in the past so this is familiar to them. She closes her eyes inhales deeply and then murmurs a long incantation in Latin. Harry closes his eyes as well and joins the tip of his wand to Hermione's as the Blueprint of all present wards starts to show up in his Mind's eye and Harry finds himself frozen in awe.

The Manor is covered in a perfect structure of complimenting wards. A perfect amalgamation of protection from all kinds of intrusion, muggle, magical, natural, you name it, and its there. Being an Auror Harry's knowledge of wards is fairly adequate, but the Wards surrounding the Malfoy Manor are way beyond his skill, sheer power, he could not say. Solid beams of magic shown as lights entwined so meticulously, blues, greens, purples, Most of them Ancient and strong and stationary, nothing he has not seen before, but very difficult to break through if not impossible. No, that is not the really striking thing about these wards. It's the Liquid ward that to him is really new and strange. Considering that it is a Ward in the first place. It's constantly moving in random patterns, colorless, slightly translucent, forming a smokey film on top of the net of ancient wards, it's not like the glass dome that Hogwarts has, no, this seems much stronger and unpredictable and Harry has never seen it's like.

Harry can see the thin but resilient light blue ward Hermione is weaving on top of the already present wards. Once the incantation is done, the thin Ward Hermione just weaved is immediately dissolved into the translucent liquid ward, like sugar in water. Harry opens his eyes to see Hermione frown some more as Ron huffs indignantly at their joint failure. Harry just feels intrigued.

"Bloody Malfoys!" Ron grumbles

"So?" Harry turns to look at Hermione.

"I have seen ancient Wards as strong as these in only one other place and that is Hogwarts. Mind you they are in no way similar and there are still ways to find through them. This…" she points towards the Manor "Is a fortress, Harry. Protected by wards which should have been dismantled an hour or so ago and is still not open to suggestions. It is at its protection peak."

"Yes, I have never seen that translucent liquid ward before," Harry says shaking his head.

"What translucent liquid ward?" Hermione turns to him.

"That moving smokey, filmy thing, I haven't seen it before, so I don't know what it's called. The one on top of all the other wards." The confusion on her face tells Harry that he is not getting through at all.

"Harry… I did not see any moving smoke-filmy thing on top of the wards, what I did see was my ward dissolving into thin air." Hermione says curiously puzzled. Harry looks at Ron, for affirmation that he sees what Harry does. But Ron looks just as confused.

"Anyhow! This means what?" Ron inquires before we can ponder further over the thing Harry just saw and they didn't. Obviously.

"This means, that there is no need for us to cast any wards for Manor's protection and that it would be magically impossible to take these wards down should the ministry ask us to. Either there is some other ancient magic at work here and we would have to choose to inform the minister of this development or not… Which would not make him very happy either way…Or, there is a simpler explanation for this. Suddenly there is a realization unfolding on her face.

"Which is?" Harry is eager to hear what conclusion she has just come to because her wide eyes and pursed lips indicate so.

"Which is the simplest explanation really" Hermione smiles slightly, as Ron shifts on his feet recognizing Hermione's expression as well. Somehow they both know that the next sentence would be the right answer.

"Malfoy Manor needs no protection because Malfoy Manor has a new and very powerful Master." She says with finality.