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CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE:

Harry passed a hand over his face. "Anything else you know about the man?" he asked his lover wearily. So far Severus had only been able to tell him that Lord Jecht, whom Harry had dueled earlier that day, had never been a Death Eater but had certainly been closely aligned to the Dark Lord, as well as being quite firmly in the pocket of the late Lord Malfoy.

"I am afraid not," Severus denied with a level gaze. "Perhaps you should approach Narcissa for more information; as the previous Lady Malfoy she is sure to know far more about Lord Jecht than I."

Harry let his head roll back against the backrest of the couch. "Yeah," he agreed listlessly. "I should also let her know that I told Crabbe and Goyle about their new living arrangements." That had been a thankfully simple conversation: He had basically just told them that their parents were in Azkaban and that they would be spending the next summer at Black Manor, and they had accepted it with identical grunts of acknowledgement. They had never been the brightest tools in the shed.

"Well," Harry exhaled and stood, "I'll be back as soon as I can." With that he walked away, the concerned gaze of his lover resting on his weary form.

OoOoO

The next day Harry was unsurprised to notice Lord Jecht studiously avoiding Harry's gaze when they both took their places in the seats of the Wizengamot; Narcissa had indeed had a wealth of information on the aging Lord, and Harry knew that if the man tried to oppose him in any way again he could crush him politically as well as magically. Or simply blackmail the man; he had plenty of skeletons in his closet.

She had also been able to shed a bit of light on why he might have decided to challenge the younger Harry to a duel; he had most likely been positive that he could defeat the young student and that way start to chip away at the reputation both Potters currently enjoyed, as well as gathering the remaining Dark faction around him. It would have been a sound political move had he not forgotten that Harry would obviously accept all duel challenges in his younger self's stead, as well as the fact that attacking a child was pretty despicable.

That aside, Harry was rather relieved at the swift routine of the day's trials; he hadn't realized how much dealing with energetic house elves the previous day had tired him until he had woken up in the morning still groggy from a thorough night's sleep. He thought being able to share his good and bad memories with Severus was helping, despite it really being too early to tell, but the best way to avoid nightmares still seemed to be to go to bed thoroughly exhausted. His drooping eyelids told him that it wasn't necessarily the wisest thing to do, though.

I really want that vacation, Harry thought as the next Death Eater was led into the room. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep on this way. There was just too much happening, too fast, and Harry was aware that he was spreading himself too thin. But his honor didn't allow him to skip out on the Death Eater trials, despite having complete trust in Amelia, Kingsley and Madam Longbottom to conduct them fairly. He'd said that he would sit in on every single trial, and once he'd given his word on something he wasn't one to break it.

I wonder if Harry's come up with anything he wants to do to the Dursleys, he thought idly as he remembered giving his word to Aunt Petunia that he wouldn't bother them. Stifling a yawn, he tried to concentrate on the happenings in court but ended up wondering how Amelia managed to look so calm and competent when she was probably getting less sleep than he. It never occurred to him that to others, he appeared just as competent despite his obvious fatigue; he was simply too used to keeping up a public front to let his bone-deep weariness show.

I really need that vacation…

OoOoO

"Lord Potter-Black," Amelia addressed him formally when everyone was leaving at the end of the last trial of the day. "You will not come to the Ministry tomorrow. You will spend the day at Hogwarts and rest. Is that understood?" It was an order, Minister to Lord, and Harry couldn't help but blink at her.

Then her words sank in and he actually slumped slightly in relief, for once letting his weariness show in a semi-public setting. "Are you sure?" he asked, and for the life of him he couldn't keep the hopeful note out of his voice. "I promised that I would attend every single Death Eater trial…"

"There's no point in attending them when you're all but dead on your feet," Amelia retorted, keeping her worry for the young man firmly hidden. She'd thought he looked tired during the trials, but her order to rest had seemed to take the last bit of energy out of him, making him relax from the straight-backed posture he'd managed to maintain throughout the day.

Harry huffed a laugh in response. "True," he conceded. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm surviving," she deadpanned, and he laughed.

"Aren't we all!" Then he straightened again, a grateful expression on his face as he laid a hand on her arm. "Thanks, Amelia. I didn't want to miss the trials, but I know that I need a break…"

She nodded in understanding. "Things won't collapse in your absence," she assured him drily. "Go home. Greet Severus Snape from me; I hear from Susan that his classes are amazing now that he's not affected by Dumbledore's machinations anymore." Her gaze was somewhat shrewd – she knew that Snape had been free of the spells for a short time before his sudden change in teaching habits – but she seemed honestly pleased that her niece was enjoying her lessons.

"Will do," Harry grinned lopsidedly as he gave her a small salute. "See you the day after tomorrow, then. Make sure you find some time to rest, too." A snort was his only reply, and Harry headed back to Hogwarts with a profound sense of relief that tomorrow would be a relaxed, restful day spent doing nothing at all. Maybe he'd even get to have that cup of hot chocolate with Luna. That would be wonderful.