Archive of Our Own

Harry wondered if the whole thing would have happened if Professor McGonagall hadn’t been away. The new young professor kept chattering happily about problem-based learning and capstone projects, as if the eighth-year students hadn’t lived through enough problems at Hogwarts. But Professor Mellowmead insisted it was a wonderful opportunity for their growth, and funded by a generous donor, with a renewable Portkey and all expenses paid while each pair traveled until they found what they were looking for.

Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, but Hermione had Ron by the arm and was saying something in a low urgent voice about Australia. She was still working at repairing the damage to her relationship to her parents caused by Obliviating them before she went on the run with Harry and Ron last year. If they needed to work in pairs, clearly Hermione and Ron were together….

Harry looked around. Neville was talking to Hannah Abbott about a magico-botanical expedition. Seamus and Dean had conjured up a globe and were spinning it. All around him, the few eighth-year students were pairing up. He didn’t see anyone to partner with.

“Can we work in a group of three?” he asked the professor, hoping that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t mind him joining them.

Professor Mellowmead frowned. “I thought there were an even number of students.” She scanned the room. “Ah, it looks as though Mr. Malfoy also needs a partner. So you’re all sorted.” She beamed at Harry.

“But…” he began.

“No need to be shy,” the professor said, as if she were encouraging a nursery school student.

“It isn’t that,” Harry said. “But our history….”

“I advise you to let bygones be bygones.”

Easier said than done, Harry thought. Professor Mellowmead had recently returned from a long stay in America, and Harry felt she rather minimized the impact of the war. And he’d had plenty of reason to dislike Malfoy long before that.

Malfoy himself was standing off to the side, listening quietly, as he had been all year. The Draco who once craved being the center of attention had disappeared and Harry didn’t know what to make of this silent replacement, so usually he ignored him. The war was over, but the memories weren’t.

Malfoy tilted his head at Harry. “Are you willing?”

Harry sighed and shrugged. He supposed that after all he’d been through, he could handle going on some kind of glorified scavenger hunt with Draco Malfoy. He just didn’t see why he had to.

“So we can come back when we find whatever we’re looking for?” he asked the professor.

“Yes, once you’ve found it you’ll be able to program the Portkey to return.”

“And what are we looking for?”

Her eyes widened. “Surely, Mr. Potter, you would know that better than I.” She turned away from Harry’s look of frustration to answer a question from Lavender and Parvati.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “You heard her, it’s up to us what we look for. You decide you’re looking for, say, the best pain au chocolat in Paris, I take you to it, and we’re done.”

“And we call that a capstone project?” Harry said skeptically.

“You’ve already defeated the Dark Lord, I don’t see that any project needs to cap that.”

“Whereas you smuggled Death Eaters into Hogwarts.”

“Which I will regret for the rest of my life. Now that we’ve established your moral superiority, do you think we can get through this little project and finish school? You could just look at it as a paid holiday, you know.”

“I guess so,” Harry said, not anxious to continue the conversation. But if he planned a holiday, Draco Malfoy would not have been his choice of companion.

o0o

That night he talked it over with Ron and Hermione.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “I wish you could come with us.”

That’s what Harry had wanted too, but he wondered now whether Hermione and Ron were actually looking forward to having this time together as a couple. That was only fair, he supposed, though it hurt a bit.

“Malfoy seems to think we can just treat it as a holiday,” he said. “Gallivant around Paris trying out pastry or something.”

“Well, if anyone deserves a holiday it’s you, Harry,” said Hermione.

“Foofy French pastry sounds like the kind of thing Malfoy would know about,” Ron added.

“He’s probably been all over Europe with his parents,” Hermione said. “You know, he was actually rather helpful when I was paired with him on that Advanced Potions project. He has improved.”

Ron snorted. “Not hard to improve on awful.”

“I know!” Hermione exclaimed. “You could do a Grand Tour! I always wanted to do that. See all the museums and great art works of Europe. Hear concerts and operas. See the relics of classical antiquity.”

“Er….” said Harry.

Ron rolled his eyes sympathetically.

“Just think about it, Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s easy to travel nowadays, you can use one of those new unobtrusive translation charms.”

“Not sure I want to spend that long in Malfoy’s company, Hermione.”

“Well, good luck, mate,” Ron said. “At least make the ferret take you to a good restaurant or two.”

o0o

“Hermione thinks we should do a Grand Tour of Europe,” Harry told Malfoy the next morning.

Malfoy brightened. “I could be your cicerone!”

“You could be my macaroni?”

“Oh – no, a cicerone is a knowledgeable guide, and well, the maccaroni had been on the Grand Tour, of course, but they were different.” Malfoy’s cheeks had turned pink, for some reason. “Very, ah, fashionable men. Of the sort who might go to, you know, molly-houses.” Malfoy was giving Harry an odd, intent look from under his eyelashes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said.

Malfoy hesitated.

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said. “We can go grab some French pastry and visit a scenic spot or two, if that’s what it takes to get this over with.”

Malfoy nodded, but some light had gone out of his eyes. Why was that?

It doesn’t matter, Harry told himself again.

o0o

“Here we are. Best pain au chocolat in Paris,” Malfoy said, confidently leading the way into an ornate patisserie in the wizarding part of town.

He spoke to the witch behind the counter. She looked past him to a couple who had come in after them. Malfoy frowned.

After the witch had helped the other customers, he spoke again. As if she hadn’t heard, she began refilling the display case. Looking angry, Malfoy opened his mouth again, but Harry put a hand on his arm and shook his head. Just then came the tinkle of the bell as more customers entered.

Looking up, the witch’s eyes widened as she stared at Harry’s forehead. The scar must be showing. “May I help you, sir?” she addressed Harry, all courtesy.

“No,” Harry said, turned and left.

Outside Malfoy looked humiliated. “I used to go there all the time with my family. She must not have recognized me.”

Harry thought it much more likely that she had recognized Malfoy, and that was precisely the problem. “Never mind,” he said. “Look, there’s another pastry shop. Let’s try it.”

“But this one is the best,” Malfoy insisted.

“How do you know? Have you tried them all?"

“Of course not, but my father always said….” Malfoy stopped.

No doubt because the staff toadied up to him there, Harry thought. “No time like the present to start forming your own opinions.” He headed for the other shop.

A few minutes later, they were both eating pain au chocolat.

“You know, I think this one actually tastes better than the ones at the other place,” Malfoy said.

“It’s the best I’ve had,” Harry said. Which wasn’t hard, since it was also the first he’d ever had. Still, it was quite delicious. Almost as good as treacle tart.

They spent another couple of days idling around Paris eating pastry from various shops. Not much else happened except that Malfoy said, “You can call me Draco, you know,” so Harry did. They couldn’t program the Portkey to get back to Hogwarts, so apparently their quest was not yet fulfilled.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have said we wanted the best in the city,” Harry said. “That could take weeks to find, and I’m getting a bit tired of pain au chocolat. Sometimes I would rather have a pumpkin pasty.”

“If you want to get back, we could change what we’re looking for to something more definite. Something we know we can find. I’m looking for a new quill.”

“I’m looking for the results of last night’s Quidditch matches,” Harry said.

So Harry picked up a French wizarding paper. The Chudley Cannons had actually won a match! He only hoped Ron had been somewhere he could listen to it over the wireless.

Draco deliberated for some time and finally bought a calligraphy quill.

Yet when they tried resetting their Portkey, it still could not be set to Hogwarts.

“Perhaps we misunderstood,” Harry said.

They sent a message to Professor Mellowmead but the answer was unhelpful. “Don’t try to trick the spell! Find something you are really looking for.”

Harry huffed in frustration. “I have to know what I want out of life, and find it, before I can go home or leave school?” He turned to Draco. “I mean, even if you knew what you wanted, it isn’t likely I could be any help in getting it for you, is it?”

Draco was silent a moment. Then he said, “If you want to give up, I suppose we could purchase a ticket on some Muggle form of transport. Or we could do some sightseeing first. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Hermione would like it if Harry went to Italy. Went to a museum or something. Ron would want to know about the food.

“No. All right, let’s go there and look at some statues and eat some pasta.”

o0o

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Draco said, as they stood before Michaelangelo’s statue of David in Florence.

Harry nodded, looking at the graceful, powerful figure. It really was a beautiful statue. Then he realized that Draco had said “he,” not “it.”

Well, Harry wasn’t used to studying men’s naked bodies, but he had to admit…. “Quite fit,” he said.

“Not just that – look at his face. He’s so intent. He’s about to take on someone much more powerful than he is, but he’s getting ready, not backing down. It’s got to be done to protect his people, so he’s going to do it.” Gazing at the statue, Draco added, “Like you did.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “Did you just give me a compliment?”

Draco slanted a smile at him. “Don’t get used to it.”

o0o

Florence had beautiful artwork and good food, which Draco knew how to find and explain. But after a few days Harry got restless. “I’d like to go somewhere with fewer people around. See some wildlife, maybe? Are there any wilderness areas in Italy?”

Draco looked blank.

Harry asked at their small hotel in the wizarding area of town. “Go to Abruzzo,” he was told. The innkeeper helped him program the Portkey for L’Aquila, which turned out to be a pretty medieval town in the mountains. When they arrived, they rented brooms to be able to see the countryside.

Around Aquila they visited some castles and Draco got excited upon learning about a nearby cave with a river and waterfall inside, so they went to the Grotte di Stiffe. The air was cool inside the cave, and the sound of running water came and went as they took suspension bridges and catwalks past dramatic stalactites and stalagmites. The waterfall was lovely, white spray falling over the beige stone to a green pool below. The river emerged from underground at the top of a gorge.

Draco lingered in the cave, while Harry left sooner. “Wasn’t it fascinating?” Draco said.

“Yeah, I just don’t really like enclosed windowless spaces,” Harry said. “I don’t think I’d have enjoyed the Slytherin dorms for that reason alone.”

“We had windows.”

“But they were underwater.”

“How do you know? When were you ever there?”

“Er…” said Harry.

“Harry Potter, man of mystery, were you spying on me?”

“Possibly,” said Harry.

“Hmm,” said Draco. “Well, where do you want to go next?”

“Wilderness,” Harry said. “There are supposed to be three national parks in this area.”

They flew to the largest, the National Park of Abruzzo. From above, they saw a pack of Apennine wolves in a mountain meadow, the youngest ones romping and playing. They caught a glimpse of a shy brown Marsican bear, and otters sliding down a riverbank on their bellies. High up on the rocks, leaping and perching, were the graceful Abruzzo Chamois.

Harry was relaxed and happy when they returned to their hotel. But the next morning he woke up with a leaden feeling. He didn’t remember why until he saw Draco also looking somber.

“Do you remember what day it is?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded. It was May 1st, the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. “Do you want to talk about it? Or try to ignore it?”

If he were at home, with Ron and Hermione and the others, it would be different, Harry thought. But he wasn’t sure he could share his feelings with Draco Malfoy. “Let’s do something escapist.”

“I heard there is a festival today in a little village near here called Colcullo. The Festa dei Serpari,” Draco said. “We could go and find out what that’s about.”

Serpari, it turned out, meant snake handler. There would be a procession through the streets with a saint’s statue draped in dozens of live snakes. Harry and Draco arrived before it began, while the serpari were standing with the snakes before the church, so that curious people could see or hold them.

“Let’s get closer,” Draco said. “I want to hold one. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“These are friendly types. Grass snakes, whip snakes, rat snakes – they aren’t venomous.”

Draco’s face softened in delight as a large striped snake writhed around his head and shoulders. It flicked its tongue at him and he laughed. He turned toward Harry with a smile of pleasure. “Want to try?” Draco extended his arm and the snake poured down it toward Harry, who found himself stretching his arm out to receive it.

“Hello,” Harry said to the snake climbing his arm.

“Ciao. Your companion has a nice touch,” the snake said conversationally. “Is that one your mate?”

“No!” Harry said, startled.

“That one would be good to twine with. Smells good too.” The snake flicked its tongue at Harry. “You’re not bad yourself.” It began to wind its way off Harry and onto another person waiting in the crowd.

Harry watched it go, speechless.

“I forgot you were a Parselmouth,” Draco said. “The last time I heard that… Well, it sounds better coming from you.” He looked a little shaken. “What did it say?”

Harry found he wanted to chase that haunted look from Draco’s face. “It said you were a good snake-handler.”

“Oh!” Draco said, turning a pleasant shade of pink.

Harry felt his own face turning pink as he wondered if “snake-handler” sounded like innuendo. When another snake headed toward him hissing, he welcomed the distraction. “What did you say?” he asked it.

“Wrong statue again,” said the snake. “Why celebrate some saint who tried to get rid of us?”

“Whose statue should it be?”

“Angitia. You know our language, so you must be her follower?”

Harry shook his head. “I haven’t heard of her.”

“Goddess of magic, witchcraft, healing and snakes.”

“Well, we are wizards, so the magic and witchcraft part fits….”

“Don’t forget the healing!” the snake said sternly.

Harry nodded, feeling he was in the presence of the serpentine version of Professor McGonagall.

The snake turned to face the statue, shook its head in disgust, and slid off muttering.

“What did that one say?” Draco asked.

“I think it told me to use my powers for good. Have you ever heard of a snake goddess named Angitia?”

Draco shook his head, looking pleased and intrigued. Harry recognized the expression from Hermione. It was the look of someone excited at the prospect of research.

Then the procession was ready to begin. The worshippers draped snakes over the statue of San Domenico. Draco and Harry were swept along in the crowd. Afterward they ate little sweetened bread-rings, shaped like a coiled snake.

They cast concealment charms and resized their shrunken rental brooms so they could fly back to L’Aquila and avoid the unusually crowded roads. Harry was relaxed and happy. He’d stopped worrying about the capstone project and decided to just enjoy a holiday.

“All right, you chose Italy, now it’s my turn to pick a country,” he told Draco when they were back in their hotel room.

“Where do you suggest?” Malfoy asked.

It wasn’t as if Harry had been to any of them. “I’ll leave it up to fate. Accio map, Accio dart,” he said.

A map of Europe flew in and crumpled as it hit the barrier Draco’s Protego had flung up, just before a dart came shooting in and hovered in front of Harry, pointing straight at him.

“Careful how you Summon sharp pointy things, Potter. Sometimes they aim at you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said.

“I wonder whose game you interrupted?”

It hadn’t occurred to Harry that the dart might have already been headed for another target. But since he didn’t know how to send it back, he might as well use it. He fixed the map – one of those that showed elevation more clearly than borders – to the wall with a Sticking Charm. Then he stepped back and raised the dart. Draco moved well away as Harry closed his eyes and threw.

The dart landed in a beige rumple of mountainous area. “Somewhere north of Greece,” Draco said as he walked up to see exactly where it was. “Albania.”

Harry swallowed, wishing he hadn’t tempted fate. Apparently May 1st wasn’t finished with him yet.

Draco turned back to Harry. “That’s your idea of a Grand Tour? Who goes to Albania?”

“Lots of people, actually.” Harry’s voice came out oddly.

Draco looked skeptical.

“Helena Ravenclaw,” Harry began.

“Helena?”

“You would know her as the Grey Lady at Hogwarts. Then the Bloody Baron went after her there.”

“I didn’t know ghosts were such travelers.”

“That’s where they died.”

“How auspicious. All right, maybe Albania was a popular tourist destination centuries ago, but…”

“Bertha Jorkins went there.”

“Bertha…?”

“And Professor Quirrell. Peter Pettigrew.”

Draco frowned.

“And Voldemort,” Harry finished.

Draco turned slightly green. After a period of silence, he said, “Look, just because your dart landed in Albania doesn’t mean you have to go there.”

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s just it. Now somehow I feel that I do. You wouldn’t have to come along, though.”

Draco looked at him. “We’re meant to be doing this together. Unless you don’t want me there.”

A few weeks earlier, Harry couldn’t have imagined that he’d want Draco’s company under any circumstances. But when he thought of going to the country where Voldemort had lingered so long, he realized he didn’t want to go alone.

“Actually, if you’re willing… I’d appreciate the company.”

Draco nodded. They each went to bed soon afterwards, in subdued silence.

The next morning, Draco was more cheerful. “I’ve just remembered, Lord Byron went to Albania. He had his portrait painted in Albanian costume. He said their dress was the most magnificent in the world.”

“Who?” said Harry.

“Byron, the romantic poet? ‘Mad, bad, and dangerous to know?’”

“That doesn’t strike me as much of a recommendation.”

“Oh, but he wrote some lovely lines.

She walks in beauty, like the night
of cloudless climes and starry skies;
and all that’s best of dark and bright
meet in her aspect and her eyes….

He was rather infamous for all his love affairs,” Draco added. “He, er, liked both.”

“Both what?”

“Men and women?” Draco was looking intently at Harry.

“Well, who doesn’t?” Harry said.

There was something complicated going on in Draco’s expression that Harry didn’t understand. The conversation didn’t make much sense to him. “I mean, I have female friends and so do you, right?” he added.

That lively complicated look withdrew from Draco’s face, which turned smooth and bland. “Of course,” he replied. “Let’s get some breakfast, shall we?”

o0o

The Portkey took them to Tirana, the capital of Albania.

“Now what?” Draco said.

“I’d like to find Bertha Jorkins’ aunt. She lives in this country somewhere.”

“What’s her name?”

Harry didn’t know, so he inquired at the Portkey Office for the equivalent of the Albanian Aurors, thinking they must have had a file on Bertha Jorkins’ disappearance four years earlier. Indeed, they remembered the case of the British witch who had come to visit her Albanian relations, vanished from a wayside inn in the northern mountains, and been found dead. They gave him her aunt’s name (Besjana Kelmendri) and told him how to find her address in the capital.

“Do you think she will see me?” Harry asked an Auror.

“Of course!” said the Auror, looking surprised. “You are a guest. Hospitality is sacred here.”

Besjana answered the door and invited them in before Harry had even finished explaining who he was. “Please, sit,” she said, and brought them coffee and cake. “How may I help you?”

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Harry said. “I came to pay my respects. I met your niece, Bertha, once. She helped me when I was in great trouble.”

Grief passed over the woman’s face. “My sister’s child. I should not have let her go without someone to accompany her, but I was not well, and she was impatient.” She pressed her eyes shut for a moment. “Bertha thought it would be romantic to go to the mountains, and visit my cousin, but she never arrived. We looked for so long. I am afraid hers was not a good death.”

She looked at Harry. “You are from England? You know my sister’s family?”

“I haven’t met them, I’m sorry,” said Harry.

She sighed. “This is a hard country for women. I love this land, but I understand why my sister left. And then she lost her daughter here.”

“I only met Bertha after she died,” Harry said. “She was very brave. To help protect me, she stood up to the wizard who killed her.”

Besjana searched his face. “Thank you,” she said. “That is good to know.”

Draco was staring at Harry.

“Please, you will stay here as long as you like,” said Besjana. “You have come a long way, and you are my guests.”

“Oh, we don’t want to impose,” Harry said.

“Impose? What do you mean? Here we say Shpija para se me qenë e Shqiptarit, asht e Zotit dhe e mikut. ‘Before the house belongs to the owner, it first belongs to God and the guest.’”

Harry looked at Draco, who shrugged slightly. “Thank you, then,” Harry said. “We will be grateful for your hospitality tonight, while we decide what to do next.”

Besjana suggested they explore the city, as she had some things to do in the house, so they thanked her and left the house. As they stood outside, Draco said, “Did you notice this carving of a snake on the stone above the door?”

Harry turned. “Hello there,” he said to the carved snake.

“Greetings,” came a reply from above. He looked up. A small colorful snake with golden horns was hanging from the eaves. “That one who killed our family member. You know of him,” said the snake.

“He’s dead now,” Harry said.

“He stole a snake from this land, stole her will. He was an evil man.”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“He killed another man in this country, many years ago,” said the snake. “The family never knew who had done it. You should go and tell them, and put their minds at rest.”

“Er…. How would I find them?”

“They live in the Accursed Mountains, in the north. The head of the family is Liri Gegaj. The house snakes will help you find it. Tell them you have news of the snake-corrupter.”

Harry nodded and the snake slithered up under the roof. Harry let out a long sigh.

“What was that about?” Draco demanded. “I had to cast a Muffliato so people wouldn’t hear you hissing in the street.”

“Another victim’s family to visit. They live in the Accursed Mountains.”

Draco laughed in disbelief. “Of course they do. And you think it’s a good idea to go there? When the name itself is warning us off?”

“I think I have to. You don’t, though….”

“No, I’m coming. Now explain to me about Bertha Jorkins. The Dark, er, He Who Must Not–”

“Voldemort.”

“Him. He killed her somewhere here? And what’s her connection to you?”

So as they started walking, Harry explained about the Triwizard Tournament. How Voldemort had wrung the knowledge of it out of Bertha Jorkins and killed her, and then returned to England with Peter Pettigrew, abducted Harry and Cedric, and used Harry’s blood in a ritual to gain a body again.

“He was about to kill me, but the spirits of other people he had murdered appeared and stopped him long enough for me to get away. She was one of them.”

Draco looked like he was going to be sick. “So that’s how he came back.”

“Yes, and he’d called all the Death Eaters to him. Your father was there.”

Draco stared at his feet. Finally he looked at Harry again. “My father wanted me to cultivate a friendship with you, you know. At least according to his notion of friendship. Luckily for you I could never manage it.”

“Couldn’t manage it?” Harry snorted. “You put a lot of effort into antagonizing me.”

“Creative effort, let us not forget,” Draco said. “I suppose I didn’t handle rejection well. But I didn’t realize what it was like for you. To be a target of the Dark Lord. Until I was a target too. I’m sorry.”

Hesitantly he held out his hand toward Harry.

You can’t erase history, Harry thought. But you don’t have to stay stuck in place, either. He shook hands with Draco, briefly and awkwardly.

They had arrived at Grand Park, where bird calls broke the silence. By tacit agreement they wandered along leafy paths and stopped at a café with a view of a lake for coffee and trilece, a sweet caramelized milk cake.

Eventually they found their way back to Besjana’s house. She was preparing tavë kosi, lamb baked with rice and yogurt. “One of our national dishes,” she said. It was delicious, sort of an Albanian version of shepherd’s pie.

As they ate, Harry asked about the Accursed Mountains. “My cousin lives there,” she said. “That is where Bertha was going. It’s beautiful country, but it’s not easy traveling through those wild mountains. Why do you wish to go there?”

Harry hesitated. But Besjana was from a wizarding family, after all, so perhaps she would understand. “A little snake on your roof told me that I should.”

“Ah, you have met the Ora e Shtëpisë, the guardian of the house. And you can speak with her? That is a great gift,” Besjana said solemnly. “They know our fates. I have never met someone who can speak with them before. But when we hear them hissing, we know something important will happen. That is why I was not surprised when you arrived.”

She recommended that they start in Shkodër, the largest town near the Bjeshkët e Namuna, the Accursed Mountains, and the only one with a public Portkey setting. “From there you can take buses, but the roads are very rough. Or there is a ferry along the lake.”

The next morning Besjana helped them program their Portkey, and packed some byrek, flaky little savory pastries, for them to bring. They thanked her for her hospitality.

o0o

Shkodër proved to be a pleasant old city full of mosques and churches, with a long arching Ottoman stone bridge. Walking through a neighborhood, Harry found the snake motif here and there, and finally saw one of the house snakes to ask. “I am looking for the family of Liri Gegaj,” he explained. “Someone in that family was murdered years ago. One of your kind in Tirana told me you might know where I should go. She said the snakes would know, because the killer was –”

“A snake-corrupter,” hissed the small golden-horned serpent.

“Yes,” Harry said.

The little snake flicked its tongue at him. “The snake-corrupter left his mark on you. And on your companion.”

“Yes, but it’s fading. He is gone now. Dead.”

The snake flicked its tongue again, tasting the air. “Because of you.”

“Yes.”

“It is good you have come. The family you are looking for is in Theth.”

“Thank you.”

“Bring your companion. It is good you do this together.”

“I will, if he is willing to come.”

The snake flicked its tongue toward Draco.

“That one does not want to leave you. Travel well.” The snake slipped through a crack in the wall and was gone.

“So, we’re headed for Theth,” Harry said to Draco. “That is, if you still want to come.”

“How many times do I have to tell you yes? All right, how do we get to Theth?”

There seemed to be no broom rentals in Albania, which left them with the options of a bus ride or a combination of ferry and hiking. “I vote for the ferry,” Draco said. “It’s called the Dragobia. I have to take it, it’s practically named for me. Besides, look at those mountains. I’ll bet the roads become an unpaved nightmare long before we’d get there.”

“All right,” Harry agreed.

“How are you going to explain to this family why you’ve come and how you found them?”

“I guess I’ll just say I heard through the grapevine about their loss? From the house snakes? People seem to trust them.”

“You heard it through the snakevine,” Draco said. After a moment he began to hum. Then, to Harry’s amazement, Draco began to snap his fingers, shake his shoulders and sing.

Don't ya know that I heard it through the snakevine
Not much longer would you be mine
Oh, don't ya know that I heard it through the snakevine
And I'm just about to lose my mind.

“I think you already have,” Harry said. Draco sang on, never missing a beat.

Boy take a good look at these tears of mine
Baby, baby these tears I can't hold inside
Losin' you would end my life you see
Because you mean that much to me
You could've told me yourself
That you love somebody else
Instead I heard it through the snakevine
Oh-h, not much longer would you be mine
Oh, I heard it through the snakevine….

When Harry could speak through his laughter, he said, “Where did that come from?”

“Gladys Knight and the Pips,” said Draco. “Would you like to hear Midnight Train to Georgia?” Without waiting for an answer, he began to croon.

He's leaving
On that midnight train to Georgia
Said he's goin' back to find
A simpler place and time
And I'll be with him
On that midnight train to Georgia
I’d rather live in his world
Than live without him in mine.

Harry shook his head, fascinated. “Where did you learn these songs, Draco?”

“Blaise Zabini was tired of the music on the Wizarding Wireless Network and figured out how to get some Muggle contraption to play music in our dorm. He was fond of a style called Motown.”

“You’re lucky Snape never found out.”

“In fact, Professor Snape sang quite a moving rendition of Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay at our karaoke night. I’d sing that, but I am afraid I couldn’t do it justice.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t think Slytherins ever just had innocent fun? It wasn’t all sinister plotting, you know. You should have heard Millicent Bulstrode belting out R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me.”

Draco entertained Harry with a few more songs and dance moves, and Harry kept laughing. It felt good to laugh, to lighten the weight of this trip.

o0o

The ferry ride was gorgeous. On either side, mountains rose steeply right out of the water, Lake Koman. It was wild country, with only tiny hamlets or small farms visible. Eagles flew overhead.

The ferry let them off at the village of Valbona, from which they hiked through the mountains and over a pass. There were stunning views of the jagged peaks. The mountains didn’t feel accursed, just chilly, so they made good use of Warming Charms. Finally they arrived in Theth, a small and picturesque village in lush green fields.

Harry asked a passing child for the house of Liri Gegaj. Guided by the child, they found a stone farmhouse with a steep wood-shake roof. A woman invited them in and sent the child to find Liri. “He is in the fields. He will be here soon,” she said.

Soon a short, wiry figure appeared, dressed in the traditional men’s clothing of the area, and shook their hands.

“I am Liri Gegaj. Welcome, guests. Please sit. How can I help you?”

Harry took a deep breath and began to explain. “We have heard that someone in your family was murdered, years ago, but no one knew the killer.”

Liri’s lined face became instantly alert and tense. “Someone killed my father, Sokol Gegaj, but never claimed it. Do you owe the blood?”

“Sorry? I don’t know what that means,” Harry said.

“You are too young to have done it. My father was killed more than fifty years ago, on a journey away from Theth. He did not owe blood to anyone.”

Fifty years ago? Was this the murder that Voldemort used to make the first Horcrux?

Liri continued, “Was it your father who killed him? Your uncle? Grandfather? And now you will restore the family honor by claiming the deed?”

“No! No, my family had nothing to do with it,” Harry said. “But I know who did.”

A weight seemed to settle on Liri’s shoulders. “Tell me.”

“It was an Englishman named Tom Riddle. He is dead now.”

“He was killed in Gjakmarrja, blood feud?”

“No, there was a battle, and he was fighting me. He lost.”

“He had killed someone in your family?”

“My parents.”

“He killed a woman? A man of no honor. But you took the blood he owed you.”

“I was just trying to stop him.”

“And his family, they will come after you now?”

“I don’t think he has any living relatives. He had followers, but not kin.”

Liri let out a long sigh. “It is settled, then.”

“We thought you would want to know.”

“For more than fifty years we have wondered. According to our ancient law, the Kanun, we must avenge a murder in our family by killing the murderer or one of his kinsmen. And then they will kill one of the men of our family. And so on it could go for generations, until it is reconciled.

“So many men and boys have died this way. And so many more lived in hiding. Here in Theth you can see one of the old kullë, the lock-in towers where they used to stay for protection. For many years we have been spared that, and Theth has lived in peace. But always my father’s murder was hanging over our heads. I did not want a blood feud, but as a man and the head of the family, it is my duty to uphold the family honor. Now you tell me that the feud is settled. You have lifted a great burden from me.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. “I am sorry about your father.”

“And I about yours. Now, you will stay with us as long as you wish. The women are preparing the evening meal.”

o0o

Harry and Draco ate with Liri and the other men of the family. The women brought in food, but ate in another room. Harry noticed how fondly Liri smiled at two young boys.

“Are these your grandchildren?” Harry asked Liri.

“Oh no, I am single. I vowed never to marry when I became a man.”

“You felt that you could not be a good partner to a wife?” Draco asked, sounding sympathetic.

“I felt I could not be a wife! When I was a girl, I used to wish I could ride away on Dhamsuta, the mute mare that carries one over far mountains and seas, away from danger. Just so I could get out of the marriage that had been arranged for me.”

“When you were a girl?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Yes. But then my older brother died, and our family needed a son to head the household. So I took the vow to be a man and stay celibate for the rest of my life.”

“And people accept that?” Draco said.

“Of course. It was necessary.”

“But what if you changed your mind later?” said Harry.

“I took a vow, a besa. I cannot break that. It is a matter of family honor.”

“That’s so interesting. What do you swear your vow by?” Draco asked.

“We swear a besa by Sun, by Moon, by sky, by earth, by fire, by stone, by mountain, by water and by snake.” Liri smiled. “Though not usually by all of them at once.”

o0o

Being farmers who kept early hours, the family went to bed not long after dinner. Harry and Draco were tired from the mountain hike, so that was fine with them. The women made up a shared bed for them in the front room and then all said good night.

But Harry found he couldn’t sleep. He said quietly to Draco, “I don’t like to think I was taking part in a blood feud. But I remember telling Dumbledore that Voldemort had killed my parents, and I had to be the one to stop him.”

“Don’t carry guilt over The Dark Lord, Harry,” Draco said. “He destroyed himself with his own Killing Curse. You were using Expelliarmus again, not exactly a murderous spell.”

“Is that why you chose it to use against Dumbledore?”

“How did you know that? You just always witness my weakest moments?”

Harry could hear the tension in Draco’s voice. “It’s not weakness to not want to kill someone.”

Draco seemed to relax a little. “Liri seemed glad not to need to.”

“Liri surprised me! I would never have guessed that he – or should I say she? – was a woman.”

“Was a girl, is a man, according to Liri. Everyone else says ‘he’, so I think we should too,” Draco said.

“All right. What a lot to give up for the family.”

“I don’t know, it seems like he found a way out of a trap. He didn’t want to live as a woman. You remember what Besjana said, it’s hard to be a woman here. And the women here didn’t talk to us at all.”

“But there are traps for men too,” Harry objected. “The feuds. And to give up marriage and children….”

“Getting out of a forced marriage. Sounds like freedom.”

“But to vow celibacy for your whole life. Could you do that? Give up touch?”

“I suppose I’m choosy about who I touch and who touches me.”

“I don’t think I could give it up,” Harry said. “I would miss it. I do miss it.”

After a moment Draco said quietly, “You could touch me.”

Harry hesitated. Draco shifted on the bed to face him. Curious, Harry stretched out a hand and lifted a strand of Draco’s hair. It slipped through his fingers, smooth as silk, so unlike Harry’s own curly tangle. He felt Draco’s sigh stir the air between them. He reached out to stroke Draco’s hair again.

“Can I?” Draco whispered.

Harry nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

He felt Draco’s fingers move through his hair, stroke his cheek, and tuck a curl behind his ear. And with that little gesture of tenderness Harry was undone. He began to shake, releasing the suppressed tension of this tour of Horcrux victims and the memories it stirred.

“Hey, hey,” Draco said softly.

“Sorry,” Harry gasped.

“No need,” Draco said. “Come here.”

He pulled Harry close and gathered him in his arms. Harry tucked his head beneath Draco’s chin and let the warmth of a caring body comfort him. His breathing evened out. He began to drift toward slumber.

“I thought you said you were choosy,” he murmured.

The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Draco saying, “Maybe I choose you.”

o0o

Next morning, Liri again invited them to stay as long as they wished and return whenever they could.

But though the country was breath-takingly beautiful, it reminded Harry of loss. What if Helena Ravenclaw had not stolen her mother’s diadem and hidden it in these mountains? If Voldemort had never come here, and Liri’s father had lived, would Liri’s life have taken the path it did? If Voldemort had not made a Horcrux from that murder to extend his own life, would he have died before he killed Harry’s parents? If Bertha Jorkins had never stopped at that wayside inn, would Voldemort have been able to infiltrate the Triwizard Tournament, kill Cedric, kidnap Harry and use his blood to return embodied? A forest of ifs.

He didn’t tell Draco all that, just said he thought they should be getting back. Draco gave him a keen look, but didn’t argue, just began discussing transportation with Liri, who recommended getting a ride in a jeep. He knew of one with a careful driver who was leaving for Shkodër that afternoon.

“All right, I suppose it’s faster. I did like the ferry, though,” Draco said.

“Draco thinks it was named for him,” Harry said, trying to joke.

“The Dragobia? No, it was named for the village and the patriot,” said Liri. “But you are named for the dragua? That is bold! Usually they hide their identities.”

“What’s a dragua?” Harry asked.

“They are heroes! They fight the kulshedra, the storm dragons. The storms can be terrible here, but when one begins, the dragua fly to attack the kulshedra. Even as babies, the dragua are brave. They use their cradles as shields against the poisonous piss and breast-milk that the kulshedra shoots at them.”

Draco raised his eyebrows.

“Wow,” Harry said. “Er, what do they look like?”

“The kulshedra have long woolly red hair. The dragua look just like regular people, except for the tiny wings hidden in their armpits. No one would recognize them as dragua, except for their mothers. They are born with a shirt on.”

“A shirt?”

“That is what we call it. Sometimes a baby is born with a little covering?”

“A caul? I was born with a caul,” Draco said.

“I am doubly honored, to host both the settler of the blood feud and a dragua.”

Draco bowed. Harry shot him a skeptical look.

Liri’s niece packed some food for them to take on the trip. They could hear her whispering “dragua” to the children, who gave Draco an awed look.

“Finally my infant valor has been recognized,” Draco murmured.

Harry rolled his eyes. They were taking a short hike before the jeep left.

“I wondered why they called this gorgeous area the Accursed Mountains, but now we know,” Draco said. “I will protect you from the dread kulshedra, Harry. You may thank me that they have not run amok throughout Britain.”

“Draco, there are no kulshedra in the British Isles,” Harry said, amused.

“Perhaps not now, thanks to the heroic efforts of our bold baby brigade….”

“There never have been. They aren’t in Fantastic Beasts….”

“An admirable book, but hardly comprehensive. Just ask Luna Lovegood.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you remember fighting a kulshedra as a baby?”

“Some details are indistinct, due to my youth at the time….”

Harry snorted. “So you were holding up your cradle to shield you from dragon piss and poisonous breast milk? That sounds kind of disgusting.”

“Such are the sacrifices of heroism,” Draco said. “You’re just upset not to be the only infant savior anymore.”

Harry shook his head. “Take my celebrity and welcome to it. Whoever heard of a dragon with breasts, though?”

“Don’t forget the woolly red hair,” Draco said. “I suppose kulshedra must be anguipedes.”

“Must be what?”

“Top half human, snakes for legs.”

“You know the strangest words,” Harry said. “Where do you find the time to learn all these weird things?”

“No more murderous extracurricular assignments,” Draco said. “And I finally gave up on trying to please my father. That was always an enormous waste of time.”

Harry frowned. He had always assumed that Lucius Malfoy spoiled his son. “I thought your father was proud of you. I mean, what about the time he bought the whole Slytherin Quidditch team new brooms?”

“That wasn’t a gift. It was an investment, on which he expected a return. Which I failed to deliver.”

There was a bitter note in his voice. Harry wanted Draco’s exuberance back. “If only your father had known that you were flying off to battle kulshedra as a mere infant.”

“Indeed!” Draco said, brightening. “He could have commissioned epic poems to be published in the Daily Prophet.”

“Maybe Luna can get something printed in The Quibbler,” Harry said, and was rewarded with a sunny smile.

o0o

They saw a splendid waterfall. Overhead, eagles soared. But Harry’s feet were a bit sore from the long hike the day before and he was just as glad they would be getting a ride back to town.

Liri accompanied them to the jeep and waited with them until it was ready to go, thanking them and vowing to be their friend for life.

The first part of the jeep ride was harrowing, on a curving, rocky unpaved road with a sheer drop off on one side, but then the paved road began and Harry felt some of the tension leave Draco’s body next to him.

Back in Shkodër they went to dinner and then returned to their small hotel room, where they lay on their separate beds. Harry felt awkward. He missed the warmth of the night before. Had he misunderstood?

He looked over at Draco, who was lying stiffly. Maybe he was bashful?

Harry cast a Muffliato and then pounced on him. Draco squawked as Harry tickled his armpits. “What are you doing?” Draco demanded, breathless with laughter.

“Checking for tiny wings, O Dragua,” Harry said.

Draco tried to tickle him back and they rolled around wrestling, nearly falling off the bed, until Draco straddled Harry’s waist and caught his hands. “Now I have you where I want you,” Draco said.

“What are you going to do with me?” Harry panted, flat on his back. He watched Draco’s chest rise and fall, his eyes darken. He felt them begin to swell against each other.

Draco swallowed. “Kiss you?” he said, his voice husky.

Harry felt his heart thudding. “Sounds good,” he rasped.

Draco released Harry’s hands to prop himself up as he leaned down toward Harry. Harry rose up to meet him and then pulled Draco down on top of him. They began to kiss and move against each other.

“Too many clothes,” Harry murmured, shedding his shirt. Draco helped him and peeled off his own. His eyes were fixed on Harry.

“Whatever you’re thinking of, just do it,” Harry said.

And then Draco was nibbling his earlobe, sucking his neck, licking his nipple, palming him through his pants and then peeling them off. Finally a slightly awkward but deeply satisfying blowjob left Harry spent and happy.

“This is absolutely the best surprise of this trip,” he said.

“Is it so surprising? I’ve been dropping hints the whole way,” Draco said.

“What hints?”

“From the beginning! I talked about maccaroni and molly-houses!”

“That just made me think of eating with the Weasleys!”

“I took you to see Michaelangelo’s David. I talked about Lord Byron. I sang you Motown!”

“Too subtle for me, I guess. I’m more of a hands-on type.”

“Feel free to put your hands on me,” Draco said, lying back.

And Harry discovered that leaving Draco blissfully incoherent from a hand-job was also deeply satisfying.

o0o

The next day was pouring rain and they spent a lot of it in bed, alternating naps and snacking with fun and frisky times.

The day after was bright and beautiful. “I wish we had brooms. This would be a great day for flying,” Harry said, looking out the window of their hotel room.

“Do you want to go back to Hogwarts?” Draco asked.

“Do you think we can?”

“Did you find something you were looking for?”

Indeed he had. Harry would never be able to erase the damage that Voldemort had done him, but this trip, meeting survivors of those lost to Horcruxes, felt like a step toward closure.

And to find in Draco, his old antagonist, both a friend and a lover, was a delight that Harry was still awed by.

He nodded. “How about you?”

Draco nodded, a bit pink.

“It will be strange to go back, though,” Harry said. “With so much changed. I want to keep this. Us.”

Draco nodded again.

“Should we swear a vow?” Harry asked, half in jest. “By sun and moon and snake?”

Draco shook his head. “Be with me because you want to be, not because you’re bound by a promise.”

“Our friends might take a little time to get used to it, but I think they’ll come around,” said Harry.

Draco began humming and then sang softly:

I’ll be with you
On that midnight train to Georgia
I’d rather live with you in your world,
than live without you in mine.

Harry reached for his hand. “A snake told me you would be good to twine with. It was right.”

“The sun’s shining. Let’s go outside,” Draco said.

And arm in arm they walked out under the wide sweet sky.