A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned

90. The Sole Survivor

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.

90 chapters! It feels like a lot less somehow, but here we are.

Enjoy...

Chapter 90

He was woken by a slim, warm arm slipping gently around his shoulders, and opened his eyes just in time to receive a faceful of silver-blonde hair as Fleur tucked her head into his collarbone.

'It's cold,' Fleur complained sleepily into his neck, pushing herself as close to him as she could manage.

There was frost on the window, twisting, spiralling patterns of it that spread all the way across the glass. This was Fleur's first real taste of English winter, and Harry had no doubt it was a far cry from the mild chill she was used to in France.

'I'm sure there is some way to enchant the walls and windows to retain the heat better,' Harry told her, using his free hand to smooth her hair down out of his eyes.

'Dangerous,' Fleur mumbled in response, pulling her knees up, and Harry winced as her feet came into contact with his calves. They were cold as ice. 'It's very complicated, and if you get it wrong you can destroy your house in any number of ways. Air currents, mould, damp, and fire,' she listed, sounding progressively less sleepy as she went.

'Speaking of fire,' Harry smiled, 'I'm sure there are easier ways to warm your feet.'

'I like this way,' Fleur decided. 'It is nice to have you here warming up the bed again.'

'I feel so appreciated,' Harry grinned, kissing her gently on the head, then rubbing his nose where her hair tickled him.

It is nice to be back, he thought.

The dormitories at Hogwarts were full of people, and had once felt like the home Harry had never had, but nothing could now compare to waking up beside Fleur. It was how the days were meant to start, and each dawn that did not happen so was a day that was less than it should have been.

'You know you're appreciated,' Fleur smirked, pulling her head back to give him a smoulderingly sultry stare from under long eyelashes. The fingers of the hand not around his neck gently traced their way down Harry's stomach, leaving light, hot lines as they trailed lower and lower.

Something crashed against the door, and Fleur's fingers flinched away.

Harry thrust his left hand out, wordlessly summoning his wand, and gently scooping Fleur off his chest.

'I'll see who it is,' he told her, conjuring himself a set of simple, dark robes from the air.

'Nobody is meant to be visiting today,' Fleur whispered, scrambling for her clothes on the opposite side of the bed. 'Sirius said the Order was busy with something big.'

Harry returned her concerned look, then, wand in hand, stealthily made his way along the landing and down the stairs, avoiding the creaky floorboards by the door to the bathroom and at the summit of the stairs.

The door banged again, more loudly, but Harry's revealing spell showed only a single wizard; it was red-edged, glowing silhouette he would always recognise.

'Sirius,' he greeted warmly, opening the door, 'what time do you-'

He fell silent.

His godfather was caked in blood, mud, and worse, dark, oily water dripped from his hair and ran from his soaked clothes to pool across their doorstep. Harry ran his eyes over Sirius, but none of the multitude of cuts and scrapes seemed life-threatening, though a few oozed nastily.