Harry Potter's Summer of Healing and Magic at Malfoy Manor

Haven't said this in a while so I should probably mention. I don't own Harry Potter. I'm not sure of the specific legal ramifications of a character called Harry Potter but not actually the same guy. But anyway, I don't own any of the stuff I'm not supposed to own. I may own the stuff I'm supposed to own but since I'm unlikely to publish it probably doesn't matter.
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It was a nice garden, the garden at Malfoy Manor. At one time the bushes were elegantly crafted topiary, a menagerie of fantastic creatures in fanciful poses, but they had been untended for a year and now they looked just like bushes. Just here or there you could see a shadow of a dragon, the wing of a swan. It was like looking at clouds. The grass had grown up too, long blades that got between your toes. It was half wild but then that was good. It was a wonderfully peaceful place.

So why oh why had they nailed two bloody great quidditch goals into it. Harry snorted, they were ruining the view with their stupid game.

"Come on Harry!" Ginny swooped down laughing. "There's a spare broom!"

"Right, the broom's the problem." Harry laughed back, waving his cane. "Not the fact that I'm disastrous in the air at the best of times and am currently down a limb."

"So you're just gonna stay down there on the grass like an old man?"

"Just keep it quiet you hooligans." Harry laughed as Ginny rose into the sky again. It would have been fun to go up and make a fool of himself, make them laugh when he fell off. But if he ever wanted to get rid of the walking stick he would have to let himself actually heal. If he burst his guts open nobody would laugh. Well... maybe the twins would.

Harry turned and stomped off across the grass, back towards the house. The sun was beating down like a hammer and Harry was sweating by the time he reached the wide veranda. He took a moment before climbing the stairs. Everybody knew he was recovering from his injuries but he didn't like to let them know how hard some things were for him. Better to just take a minute.

Harry stomped up the wooden stairs and dropped into a folding deckchair. The whole veranda was new wood, tacked onto the back of the ancient mansion. The marauders had conjured and constructed the thing the first day they got there, at Draco's urging. The young Slytherin took an almost pathological pleasure in slamming beams into the ancient Malfoy mansion. It was all they could do to stop him using fifteenth century daggers as nails.

The whole place had been transformed into a kind of marauder summer camp. All of them were there, at first they had just come during the day to hang out, then in dribs and drabs they had attached themselves to rooms and began staying overnight. Harry was loving it, he had a captive audience. And now that the marauders numbered twenty they were a good audience. Except when they did pointless things like play quidditch or do homework. But at other times they were brilliant.

"So," Harry turned to the deck chair beside him, containing his newest initiate. "Who's winning?"

"I can't tell." Pythea took a dainty sip from a glass of lemonade. "They seem to have released four different snitches so I don't know how to score."

"Four snitches?" Harry's eyebrows arched.

"Ginerva and Draco were left in charge of setting up."

"Probably just trying to outdo the twins." Harry shrugged. "How many bludgers were there?"

"Twelve I believe."

"Seemed like more." Harry glanced up at the game flowing above the vast grounds. Sixteen marauders were swooping and diving in the hot, dead, air. Like swallows. Harry envied them, not for the ability to fly, but for the relief from the heat that flying would bring. Harry brushed his sweat filled hair out of his face and fanned himself with his hand. He turned to the girl next to him. "How are you not sweating? It's like a warm day in Hades."

"I'm used to Greece Harry."

"You're used to a floaty castle in the sky." Harry leant back to soak in the rays. "I however need some shade." Harry drew his wand and floated a standing umbrella over. It shook a little as it settled into place. Harry frowned, his new wand wasn't his favourite. For one thing it wasn't an Ollivander wand.

His first wand had been taken from him by Voldemort at

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THE END