Chapter 13
Chapter XXIII
The Grangers and the Potters (as Hermione insisted on being referred to as Mrs. Potter, at least amongst those
in the know) sat in the Leaky Cauldron waiting for the Weasleys to show up. Harry sat contemplating the information
he had gotten just the day before, from the representative for the Crown.
---
"Well, Mister Potter, it appears that your testimony on the fist day of the trial was the most important thing.
Evidence helped, but it was you who put Vernon Dursley in prison for a number of years," the Crown's solicitor had
said. "Not only that, but he has been ordered to pay back to you the sum of money that was given them, starting from
January of 1982 until the end of June of this year. Considering that they were getting an extra five hundred pounds
sterling per month, I think the sudden outflow of eighty seven thousand pounds from their funds should put something
of a crimp in their style."
Harry's face had fallen. "Never happen. They don't have that much."
"Then they shall be forced to sell until they have achieved the goal. If she is smart, Petunia Dursley will sell
the house at Number four Privet Drive and use what is left of the funds to set herself up somewhere."
"The rest of the funds? How much is that house worth?" he'd asked in some shock.
"Current prices run to somewhere roughly around two hundred thousand pounds. That is, of course, a very
rough estimate, but I will be quite surprised to see it go for significantly lower than that."
Harry had snorted. "I checked some of the finances of my 'unemployed' father. Perhaps I should buy the house
from them, for eighty-seven thousand pounds less than the asking price, and turn it into a rental property. Give me a
constant income."
The solicitor had blinked, but smiled. "I see that you have been giving some thought to being on your own.
You certainly seem to be as mature as I was told."
"I was forced to learn at an early age," he'd responded. "I have no doubt that their treatment of me will cause
quite a bit of expensive therapy at some point. It would have been nice to have had a childhood – a real one." He
shrugged. "Maybe I can have one when I hit my middle age crisis. Combine the two for efficiency's sake." He smiled
at the small joke.
---
"What are you thinking about, Harry?" Helen asked. "You were completely elsewhere."
"Just remembering the solicitor, yesterday. I said it as a joke, but that just might be an idea. Buying the house
from them for a fair price, minus the eighty-seven thousand they owe me by Court mandate, and turning it into a rental
property." He scowled. "Then again, with the way Aunt Petunia was looking at me on my birthday, she might burn
the place down rather than sell to me." He sighed. "I pity my Mum, in a way. To have grown up in a household with
such a disgusting and vile thing as Petunia."
"Harry …" Hermione began.
"No. She's hated me forever. She's the one who hit me with a frying pan more than once. When Hagrid came
to collect me, she ranted about Mum. The whole problem she had was that she was fu … she was jealous! 'Lily was
always the special one!'" he repeated, mocking Petunia's voice. "I don't know for certain, but I seriously doubt that I
even could shed a tear if I were to hear that any of the three of them died in horrific circumstances." He paused.
"Hmm, Moldie is likely to go after them now that I'm not there anymore. At least, once it's discovered that you and I
are marrying because they broke the protections on me." Sighing, he said, "I'll tell the Weasley's and let them pass it
along to Dumbledore. He'll know who to contact – he's got some contacts in the Ministry. I personally don't care."
"Harry, you don't mean that," Hermione began.
"Oh yes, I do!" he answered hotly. "They spent the entire time I lived with them making sure that I knew that I
was unloved, unwanted, and generally hated. Things were done in front of me to let me know how they treated people
they loved – at least whatever their perverted version of it was. Petunia Evans Dursley is a worthless piece of Muggle
trash, just like her son."
Hermione looked at him and said, a bit coldly, "My parents are Muggles, in case you've forgotten."
"No, I haven't forgotten. You also understand what I mean, as well. Muggle trash gets thrown out on the
curbside. Wizarding trash is treated better than I was, or than they deserve, if only because it might explode or
something if not handled properly. I'm saying that Petunia and Dudley are worthless, and always will be, and that any
tears when they die will be faked for the newspapers. They're garbage, and Voldemort can have them, for all I care."
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, ignoring Hermione's glare.
The fireplace flared, and one by one the Weasley family spun to a stop. They hurried over to the table, and
hugs were shared all around. It was quite obvious that the Potters were not speaking at the moment. Harry looked at
Hermione for a moment, his face fell, and he said quietly, "Shall we head into Diagon Alley? I think we all need to
stop at Gringott's first." Without waiting for an answer, he stood and headed out the door for the brick wall, which he
tapped listlessly.
As they walked down the street, Harry heading the procession, Ron caught up to him and tugged his shoulder.
"What's up, chum? You look like you've lost your best friend."
"One of them, at least," Harry replied quietly. "Ron, do you have any idea why I can't do anything but
Quidditch and Defence against the Dark Arts right? Why am I so worthless when it comes to interacting with other
people?"
"Whoa – where'd this come from?"
"Sirius meant so much to me that it's tearing me apart still – but I couldn't be bothered to talk to him using
those mirrors. Back in fourth year, I hurt Parvati's feelings without even trying. Now I have so little human
compassion that I anger Hermione when I admit that I won't mourn if Voldemort kills the Dursleys. Why … why
can't I have normal human feelings, instead of being this … this uncaring thing that pays no mind to who gets hurt or
killed around me?"
Ron blinked. "I think you're asking the wrong person here, Harry. I have the emotional depth of a teaspoon,
remember?" he chuckled softly. "You want me to send Ginny or Mum up here to talk to? I really am out of my
league on this, and I know you need to talk to someone."
"Nah, I'll work it through, like I always do. I won't be stupid enough to try what I did last time, though."
"What happened?"
"Never mind. I did something really stupid, and Dumbledore had to step into the picture on that one. That
reminds me – I need to talk to the person he recommended I talk to." They had reached the doors to Gringott's and
headed inside,where Harry immediately headed for the desk for some information.
Upon showing his key to the goblin, he was greeted with a toothy grin. "So, you are here for the paperwork, I
suppose?" the goblin said.
"What paperwork?"
"Sirius Black's last will and testament stated that his possessions and funds were to be equally split between
you and Remus Lupin. I am surprised that you had not been notified."
"Yeah, well, I've been a little difficult to locate this summer. Haven't really stayed in one place very long.
What kind of monies are we talking about?"
The goblin looked at the paperwork and quoted a figure that ran to eight digits. "That's purely monetary, mind
you, the value of the properties adds to that a bit."
"Um, I guess – toss me the paperwork, I'll sign it, and then we'll deal with the rest of my business, since this
changes things slightly." He signed the forms and handed them back.
"Give us ten minutes, and the money will be transferred to your own vault, Mister Potter."
"Wait, before you do that, I need a couple things done. First, take half of that money and open a new vault for
Hermione Granger, taking the fees for opening that vault from the half that is staying with me, as all upkeep fees
should, as well. Next, after that money has been dealt with, I want another two hundred and fifty thousand Galleons
taken from my money and placed in the Weasley vault." He paused. "Is there an easier way of reaching my money,
rather than having to come back here all the time?"
"Yes, Mister Potter. We have a new money bag that is only reachable by the individual it is spelled for, that
will release whatever amount of cash the individual states. Also, for those who occasionally deal in Muggle circles,
such as yourself, we offer what the Muggles call a debit card. Do you know how those work?"
Harry nodded. "Okay, we'll need a pouch and card for Miss Granger, fees to come from my vault, and the
same for myself." The goblin nodded, and jumped down from the desk, returning a moment later with a short stack of
papers.
"These are your requests. Once you sign them, we will process them immediately. Miss Granger shall need to
come over to claim her card and pouch and key, however."
Harry nodded and signed in several places, and then turned to the group waiting for him in the waiting area.
"Hermione?" he said, motioning her over. When she got there, he nodded to the goblin. "He has some business for
you to deal with, and then we can get to our shopping." He walked over to the group, leaving Hermione to deal with
the goblin. "I want to get out of here soon, she's probably going to be angry with me for what I did, thinking I'm
trying to bribe my way back into her good graces."
"What did you do?" Helen asked.
"Well, no one ever contacted me about Sirius's last will and testament. Turns out he split it between Remus
and me. I took half of that cash and opened a vault for Hermione, as well as getting her a debit card and money
pouch, all fees to come from my vault." He looked to the Weasleys. "I also had them transfer a little bit into your
vault. If you don't want it, then give it to a charity or something, but I won't take it back."
"How much?" Molly asked warily.
"Don't worry," Harry responded with the closest thing to a smile that he could manage. "It was less than one
percent of the money that I let stay in my vault."
"How much, Harry?" she asked, dangerously this time.
"Two hundred and fifty," he replied. She nodded, pleased that it wasn't very much. "Mind you, he finished,
that number is measured in thousands." Her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand Galleons? Are you crazy, Harry?" she gasped.
"Apparently," Hermione said from behind him. "Why, Harry?"
"Because they deserve it," he said. "So do you. You were more his friend this last two years than I was, and I
got the money because I was the son of one of his best friends from school. So you deserve some of it. Since it was
mine to do with what I wanted, after I signed the receipts, I chose to disb … what's the word I'm looking for?"
"Disburse?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah. I disbursed it where I felt I should. I knew that if I gave more than one percent of what was staying in
my vault, the Weasleys might not accept it. But since it is less than one percent, it's a drop in the frigging bucket."
He scowled. "All I had to do was kill someone to get it."
"Harry …" Helen started to say.
Ignoring her, Harry went on. "I've wanted to do this for you for a long time, Mrs. Weasley. Please accept it.
I'm not hurting for money right now, and it's not likely that I will for a long time, if ever. You've been there for me
when I needed it, and it's really the only way I can say thank you." He smiled sadly at her. "Go buy Ron and Ginny
new stuff." He spun and looked at the group. "Well, let the Weasleys get their money for the day of shopping, and
we'll go get what we need." He pulled Ron aside. "Please, Ron, know that I'm not trying to flaunt anything in front
of you. Yeah, I've got this damn load of money. People had to die for me to get it, and I just wasn't worth it. Let me
send it where I can. Send it to people who are worth it. The Grangers. Your family. A few others that come to
mind."
"I understand, Harry, but I'm going to have to argue with you on one point. You are worth it, no matter how
you're feeling right now. Things will work out between you two – this is just a fight, and they happen."
"Yeah, but I'm me, Ron. Nothing good lasts. Go." When Ron had disappeared, he spun and headed back to
the desk, Hermione in hot pursuit. "Sir?" he asked the goblin, who looked at him, a bit startled.
"Yes, Mister Potter?" the goblin asked a moment later.
"I'd like to open another two vaults, if you don't mind,and transfer some into the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes
business vault. The two vaults are for Ronald Bilius Weasley, and that should received two hundred and fifty thousand
Galleons, and the second is for Ginevra Molly Weasley, and that amount is one hundred fifty thousand Galleons. Fees
as before. The business account should receive one hundred thousand Galleons, and if they ask where it came from,
we wouldn't be exactly lying if we said that Sirius Black left it to them, would we?"
The goblin smiled, not showing all those teeth this time, which Harry found to be significantly friendlier. "No,
Mister Potter, we would not." The paperwork was quickly at his hand, which he signed, and the keys, marked with the
vault number and owner were in his hands.
"Thank you again, sir," Harry said, sketching a bow, and then he looked to Hermione. "Well, I've got their
Christmas gifts set."
"Why, Harry?" Hermione asked. "You gave me over 30 million Galleons, and you've managed to give the
Weasley's nearly a million between them. Why?"
"Because the only way I end up with money is by people ending up dead. My folks died to save my life, for all
the good it really did. Sirius died because I'm simply too fucking stupid to realize when I'm being set up. Both ended
up leaving me large sums of money. So, I figure, if I have to be getting this money in the first place, I might as well
give it to people who might actually deserve the money, rather than sit there making more money off all the people
I've killed to date. What next? A million the day that I get someone else killed? That reminds me – I'd best make
sure that Remus picks someone else for his will, since he's likely to have named me, as the son of one of the
Marauders. Tell him to give it to you, or to Ron, or the Weasleys. Give it to someone who deserves it, not someone
who gets everyone around him killed." Hermione's eyes were filled with tears, and she ran over to her mother and
sobbed against her chest. Harry saw the Weasleys approaching, and he headed for the doors.
He never got completely out of anyone's sight, but he was obviously not willing to speak to anyone at the
moment. Finally, the day's shopping done, he sat outside Florean Fortescue's waiting for the others to catch up. He
sat staring into space, watching Hermione with her parents, and murmured, "Why did they stop me? The world would
be so much better off if they'd just let me succeed. All I do is destroy."
"That's not true, Harry," a dreamy voice said from behind him. "You help people quite a lot."
"Yeah, into an early grave. Just ask Sirius about my parents. Oh, I forgot, you can't, because I killed him!"
He turned to face Luna Lovegood, the eccentric Ravenclaw.
"No you didn't, Harry. Bellatrix Lestrange cast the spell that made him fall through the veil. He killed himself
by not being on his guard. Voldemort was the one who drew you there in the first place. There is plenty of blame to
go around."
"Yeah, and Hermione tried to convince me to check with him. I couldn't be bothered to do anything more than
a cursory check. So, I got Ron attacked by those brain things, Ginny's ankle broken, Neville's nose broken, and
Hermione almost killed. You were the only one to come out unscathed. If you stay my friend this year, Luna, expect
something awful. They'll kill your father, or you'll follow me and lose a leg, or an arm, or be disfigured, or even
killed. My very existence destroys, Luna. Because of … something I'll tell you about later, I killed my parents by
existing. I destroyed a perfectly happy home life of two Muggles and their son. I killed Cedric. I killed Sirius. I
almost killed Hermione and all my friends. Who's next? The Weasleys? Or am I more successful this time, and
actually end up getting Ron or Ginny killed? I've already proven that I'm as worthless as the trash that gets thrown
out on the streets when it comes to romance. Just ask Cho or Parvati. You can ask someone else, if she's crazy
enough to admit knowing me that way." He stood again. "I think I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Maybe he
can help me out." He looked to her. "I'm sorry I wasn't better company, but I had it pointed out to me, correctly, just
how much of a monster I am, earlier today. If you're as smart as your being placed in Ravenclaw suggests, then I
think you'll figure out that staying away from me is by far the best thing you can do for yourself and your family.
Fight him another way. Being close to me will bring nothing but heartache."
"Then so be it, Harry. I don't desert my friends." She kissed his cheek. "I'm glad your suicide failed," she
whispered in his ear before walking away.
He shook his head. How can I make her understand? He stood and walked into the Leaky Cauldron, and after
getting permission to use the fireplace, placed a Floo call to Dumbledore.
"Come to my office when everyone else meets up with you," he said after Harry told him he needed to talk.
---
A short time later, they were all in Professor Dumbledore's office. Harry had refused to talk, saying that they'd
end up hearing it in the office they were now in. He had reiterated his previous points, and added one more he hadn't
said thus far. "Hermione's reaction made me realize – I am a menace. I stand every likelihood of taking over Tom's
job when I defeat him, assuming I do. How much better am I going to be than he is?"
"Hermione's reaction?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yeah. We got talking about the Dursley's, and I said that I wouldn't mourn if they died at Voldemort's
hands. I actually want them dead. She's right to be angry and disgusted with me over that! What kind of heartless
monster wishes the only living family he has dead! They're the only link I have to my mother, and here I am, wishing
that Voldemort would get his hands on them and kill them! Even now, knowing how monstrous that makes me, I can't
shake the desire to see them pay, painfully and fatally."
"What kind of a person am I for wanting the people dead who treated me as I deserved?!" he screamed into the
quiet room. "I am a freak, even amongst wizards! I destroy everything I touch! I deserve to be shunned, if only for
wanting my family dead. What hideous kind of thing am I?" The last was said in a whisper, but everyone heard it.
He looked up suddenly. "Sir, Hermione was brought into this under false pretences. What does it take to
dissolve a handfasting? She shouldn't be destroying her life being with me. She should be freed from the bond, and
then the Grangers memory modified into not remembering this summer. There are things best forgotten." He looked
to Helen for a moment. "Another proof of my sheer monstrosity," he whispered into the air. "I agree to go into full
time training to learn everything I possibly can in order to kill Voldemort but in return, people need to be modified
into feeling differently about me. The Weasleys, the Grangers, Tonks, Remus, Luna – basically, anyone currently
crazy enough to care about me. I'd recommend it for you as well, sir. They need to be modified into thinking of me
as I really am – the next candidate for Dark Lord." He shook his head. "Wouldn't my parents be just so fucking
proud of me, to know that they gave their lives just to protect a monster that should have been drowned at his birth?"
He looked up at Dumbledore, not seeing him. "I promise to not attempt suicide again, sir. My job is to kill
Voldemort, since I'm the only one who can. Then the Aurors can take me out before I try to pick up the mantle."
He finally focused on Dumbledore, who was doing something Harry had never seen, and from the reactions of
the wizarding adults, neither had they. Dumbledore was shaking with rage so great that he simply could not speak.
"Great. Now I manage to anger the greatest living wizard. Before I destroy anything else …"
He bolted from the room before anyone could stop him. They'll look for me – they don't see the danger. I
can't go anywhere on Hogwarts grounds – Dumbledore will find me in a heartbeat. Where can I go? He suddenly
thought of somewhere, but knew that he'd have to approach it from a different direction. He ran pell-mell for
Hogsmeade, escaping the grounds in surprisingly short order, before doubling back and heading for the Forbidden
Forest.
Back to index
Chapter 14 by Kinsfire
Chapter 14
Chapter XIV
He ran for a time, making it to the Forbidden Forest. He had a vague idea where Aragog stayed, so he avoided
that portion of the forest. Finally, he came to a rest and dropped down next to a tree. The idiots are under the
impression that I worth salvaging. Can't they see that I'll just get them killed?
He heard hoofbeats coming closer. Oh. I picked their part of the forest to roost in. Makes sense. "You
probably know already," he said in a conversational tone, "but I'm over here."
What approached Harry was not the centaurs that he expected, but the thestrals that ran free in this part of the
forest. He was surprised to see them walk over to him and start to nuzzle him. He stood and began to run his fingers
through the manes of the closest ones.
Wonderful. I drag death around with me so much that I not only can see the thestrals, but I can actually draw
them to me. They're treating me as one of the herd. He shook his head. Is that all I'm good for? Death and
destruction? The people nearest me get hurt.
He put his arms around the neck of one of them and hugged it. Something about having a physical presence
there to hold helped him a little. Even if they are invisible carnivorous horses, they seem to be comforting.
They continued to nuzzle him as if he were a foal, lost by another herd – a foal that they would protect until
someone could come to take control of him and put him back with his proper herd. He heard further hoofbeats and
saw the lead stallion of the herd come closer, and behind him were several centaurs, most carrying weaponry of some
sort or another. Five with spears stepped closer to him, and he found himself looking at those five spears pointed at his
chest from close range. "Go ahead," Harry said. "Do Voldemort's work for him. Kill me, and no one ever kills Tom
Riddle. You get an immortal Dark Lord who hates himself and anyone who reminds him of that. Of course, that
pretty well means everyone on the planet, but let's not go there."
"You would do well not to taunt us, human," one of the centaurs sneered. "We told you that we would deal
with you if you ever came to our forest again."
"Yeah, who gives a flying shit?" Harry barked, even though several spears poked him hard enough to draw
blood. The thestrals moved a little closer to Harry. "Go ahead!" he said, leaning into one of the spears. "Do
Voldemort's work for him! You do anyway, by sitting back and doing nothing! You're supposed to be these
marvellous Divinations scientists, but you do nothing to help! Instead, you sit back and act so damned superior, and
bitch and moan about being treated unfairly by the humans."
He looked at the one whose spear was deepest in his chest. "So what?!" he bellowed. "So a bigoted human
got you classified such that you fall through the cracks. You can either work to change things, or you can become
perfect tools for any dark lord that comes along by sitting back and doing nothing. Fine, the Centaur Liaison Office
was created as a sop to you. Where do you think the beginning of real change comes from, you morons? You can
either sit back and do nothing, being arrogantly superior that you'll outlast those annoying and bigoted humans, or you
can get out there and work on changing things. Oh, but then you'd have to give up your own bigotries, and admit that
maybe part of the solution rests with you. Let's chuck that one, and exile anyone who suggests that working with
humans is a necessity." He shook his head. "If you're going to kill me, then kill me. Rid the world of one more vile
monster."
He could hear people coming through the Forest, and cursed. "Please, if you have to kill someone, let it be me.
I was stupid, yet again, and forgot that they'd be able to find me. I've killed enough people by existing. If anyone else
has to die because of me, let it be me. They're simply looking for me."
One of the centaurs got a calculating look to his eyes. "What will you pledge to keep them safe, rather than
have us kill them, as they should be for trespassing after our warning of nearly three moons ago?"
He stared in the centaur's face. "I pledge that my life will be the only one you will take. I pledge that these
people mean enough to me that I will destroy every centaur living in this forest if you kill innocent people. I also
pledge, with all that I can, that I will work in whatever way I can to improve conditions between humans and the
beings that fall between the cracks. This will, of course, require that I survive the fight with Voldemort without
becoming the monster I seemed to be destined to be."
"We see no such transformation in your future, Harry," spoke another. "If monster you are to become, then
monster you are now. And we see no evidence of that in your willingness to die for those who look for you." He
turned and shouted. "The human you seek is here."
The group came at a run and was surprised to see the centaurs now tending Harry's minor chest wounds.
"Harry!" Hermione cried as she saw him, and came running to him. She knelt next to him, crying.
"Why did you fall for such a loathsome creature, Hermione?" he asked sadly. "You deserve someone better.
Not someone who can't even properly show gratitude to people."
"Harry …" she began.
"I mean, you were right to be angry and disgusted with me! While sort of … thing … can't show gratitude to
the people who raised him? They saw me for what I am – a freak – and they treated me the way I deserved. I destroy
what I touch, Hermione. My parents died because of a stupid prophecy – about me. Cedric died – because I exist.
Sirius died – because I can't be bothered to do things the right way. Your family – look at the crap they've been
through this summer. Because of me. I anger the centaurs. Your mother – knowing me, I've left some psychic
residue, and she'll end up with some vile scenario happening to her. You. I love you Hermione. I love you so much
that to keep you safe, I have to leave you. I'll destroy you, otherwise. I'm a monster in human guise, Hermione. My
wanting the very people who raised me dead proves that. Some repayment for raising me, hmm?" He put his head
into his hands, and whether he wanted to or not, began to cry.
---
Ron watched this in horror. "What happened?" he finally asked. "What happened to put him in this mood?"
"More than any one human should ever have to live through," Helen said, tears in her own eyes. "And
Hermione, unfortunately, brought this one about. It would have happened, but she was the catalyst. Even with all
those pictures, and the hospital, and everything else, she can't quite grasp the horror that Harry must have grown up
with. I'm not saying that I understand it myself, but I grasp why Harry wants them dead." She sighed. "But she grew
up in a loving family, as did you, and you can't really wrap your brains around the true evil that exists in the world."
They were interrupted when Harry shouted, "How can you say that I deserve to be loved? I destroy what I
touch, Hermione! The Weasleys – look at them! Percy would still be talking with them if I weren't around! I'm the
very reason he won't speak with them, Hermione! If I wasn't the human entropy engine, they'd still be happy
together! Instead, I had to walk into their lives and tear them apart."
Ron couldn't handle it. "Yeah, Harry, if you hadn't come into our lives, look how well off we'd be. Ginny
would be dead in the Chamber of Secrets, and Tom Riddle would be walking the world. We'd be mourning the loss of
the only Weasley girl born in generations. Yeah, we'd be real happy if you didn't exist, Harry. I have my sister to hug
and argue with, and worry about her boyfriends because none of them are good enough for her, and all those other
things that siblings do to each other, for the simple reason that you exist, Harry. I've never thanked you for that, and
that's just wrong." He knelt next to his friend of five years and hugged him. "Thank you for saving my sister's life,
Harry. We can never repay you for that, and you turn around and give us money because you think you can't repay
us."
He grinned at his friend, not caring that his eyes were misty. "Percy's a git, and would have found a different
reason to break contact with us. You were just his excuse."
Hermione smiled too. "Yeah, you do so good a job of destroying everything that you touch that you married
someone whose life you saved, Harry. I'd be dead if not for a certain self-proclaimed monster. My parents still have a
daughter because of you, Harry. The …." She turned to make sure it was safe to speak. "The Order of the Phoenix
was reactivated because you told the people who believe in you that V-Voldemort is back. People are getting prepared
to fight him because you exist, Harry. They have a hope for survival because you exist, Harry."
"I was wrong, Harry. Mum helped me see that. The Dursleys did everything in their power to make you hate
them – to break you and destroy you. You aren't the monster for hating them, Harry. They're the monsters for doing to
a baby what they did. And here I come along, looking down from my ivory tower, trying to tell you about your life.
Which one of us is the monster, Harry? The one who finally finds it in his heart to hate people who truly deserve it,
and no one else – or the person who waltzes in and informs people what's right and wrong, without understanding the
situation?"
"I will not hear you call yourself a monster, Hermione. You had a happy home life. Of course you wouldn't
understand about the Dursleys, and I'll kill anyone who tries to give you first hand experience. I was raised by
monsters. What else could I grow up to be?"
"The sweet, caring young man that I am proud to call my son-in-law," Helen finally said. "By rights, the
upbringing you had should have turned you into someone willing to walk into Little Whinging and start
indiscriminately killing, starting at Number four Privet Drive. Instead, somehow, you became a caring and surprisingly
gentle young man." Her eyes twinkled with that last remark. "Trust me, Hermione and I appreciate that gentleness in
you." She actually cracked a smile at that. "Harry, does my wanting the Dursleys dead for what they did to such a
sweet and caring young man make me a monster?"
"No, but you weren't raised by them," he said. "For all intents and purposes, they were my parents. What does
it say when I want my guardians murdered by the same man who killed my birth parents, and who wants me dead?
Someone who I know will do it excruciatingly. Even now, thinking it through, I can't bring myself to even wish them
a quick death. I want them to suffer. That has to make me a monster."
"Then I am a monster as well, Harry," Albus Dumbledore said, tears in his eyes. "I feel hate and a rage that I
have not felt for a very long time, and so much of it is aimed at myself. I look at a young man I was supposed to
protect, and I know that I failed him miserably. I should not wish this, but I so desire to emotionally destroy the
Dursleys for so horribly damaging the son of the two finest people I have ever known."
"Sir …" Harry said, and then dropped his head again. "I'm doing it again. Who else will I corrupt during my
life? The greatest wizird for the side of light, and because of me, he's contemplating dark acts." He looked up. "Can
you deny it, sir? That you're the closest to performing them that you've been in years?"
"No, Harry, I cannot deny it. Are you the only one with free will on this world, however? I think not. We all
make our choices. The Dursleys need to be reminded that there are consequences to their choices. Vernon has begun
that process, and Petunia and Dudley are beginning to learn. But they blame you for it. We shall protect them as best
we can, but we will not waste resources on them, Harry. And I know you well enough that you will blame yourself if
they die. I cannot stop that blame, but know that they do not deserve it." He smiled. "Realize the fact that the very
belief that you are a monster, and your desire to distance yourself from those you love, proves beyond any shadow of
doubt that you are no monster, Harry. If you were the monster you believe, then you would not care what happened to
us. Instead, you fear for us, and what will happen if we stay too close to you. I speak not for anyone but myself,
Harry, but I willingly accept the risk of being close to you. Perhaps someday I shall properly earn the honour of being
your friend, but I accept the potential danger of being close to you."
"So do I," Helen said. "I have no magic, but I will defend you to the best of my ability, Harry. I love you, if
only for what you have done for my daughter. If you're a monster, then so am I. I want them to suffer horribly for
what their treatment has done to a fine, gentle young man."
"Both of us are monsters," Doug said. "I could so easily spend years subjecting Petunia and Dudley to the
treatment that they gave you. Luckily, Vernon is going to get a few years worth of understanding what he did to you."
He was red. "I am so furious at them for making you into the type of person who decides that he's at fault for all the
ills of the world. You are not wrong to hate them and wish them harm. You're only a monster if you let it colour your
entire life, and let it make all your decisions."
"As Tom did," Dumbledore said quietly.
"You are no monster, Harry Potter," spoke one of the centaurs. "In your fear, you were still able to threaten us
in the name of your friends, and even then, pledge to help us. We will not hold you to your pledge of help, but if you
need us in your battle against the darkness, we will be here for you. You now have the same entry privileges that we
have granted your headmaster Dumbledore." They looked to Hermione. "You are his soul mate. You also are granted
this permission." He looked up at the group. "As are all who left this school to accompany him two moon passings
ago." Both Ginny and Ron stepped forward and bowed to the centaurs.
"You might not hold me to my pledge, but I will," Harry said. "Your treatment isn't right."
"That is why we will not hold you to it, Harry Potter. You will do a far greater job holding yourself to it than
we could compel. You are too honourable to do otherwise." He smiled an honest smile. "And what monster can be
called honourable? Release your self hatred, and you will become truly the weapon that can destroy the darkness that
threatens the world." He looked to Helen, and then back to Harry. "Things will happen. They have happened. Live
with what will be, and know that people will be happy." He looked to Hermione, and then to Harry. "I would
recommend thinking twice about cancelling the bonding to this one. Losing half of yourself is a painful experience."
"Now, I think it best if you return to the castle and deal with what needs to be dealt with."
---
Back in the headmaster's office, they all sat again. "This has been an eventfully day," Albus finally said.
"All thanks to the drama queen," Harry grumbled. "Well, drama king."
"I'll thank you not to insult my husband," Hermione said, hugging his arm. "If his wife could learn to hold her
tongue occasionally, perhaps he wouldn't have had reason to react the way he did."
Helen laughed. "How about we apportion blame where it belongs. All of us dropped the ball, if only a little
bit. Hermione overreacted, Harry did the same, and the rest of us didn't remember just how fresh the wounds are that
made him attempt suicide a short time ago."
"If I may," Molly Weasley asked, "what caused him to attempt suicide?" She looked at Harry with worry.
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Helen beat him to it. "My story, Harry. I know how you'll tell it."
She proceeded to explain the situation that had led to his attempted suicide. "He won't forgive himself, and so far,
he's the only one." She smiled as she happened to hear Ginny murmur, "Lucky bitch," with a smile on her face.
Helen's eyes twinkled, bringing a deep blush from Ginny, and a mouthed "Sorry."
"Harry's version would have been much more self-deprecating, and likely be phrased to make you want to kill
him," Doug said quickly. "Those damned Dursleys trained him quite well to take the blame for everything." He
grinned suddenly. "Now on to somewhat happier things, he says, intentionally changing the subject radically. How go
preparations on this end for the upcoming nuptials?"
"Ah, yes!" Dumbledore said with a smile. "We are quite prepared here. I will be performing the ceremony,
with the permission of the prospective bride and groom."
Harry looked to Hermione. "Even with my little psychotic episodes like just a while ago, do you still want to
marry me?"
She leaned in and kissed his mouth gently. "Yes, my Harry. You are still going to be my husband. I do not
choose to dissolve the handfasting bonding, and I do choose to strengthen it through the vows we will exchange on my
birthday." She paused. "Harry, this is your fault. I'm getting poetic." She smiled at him.
He returned the smile, weakly. "I just … I don't know what to do anymore. I've had some wonderful things
happen this summer, but … well, it's like what happened with you, Helen. I … damn it, I enjoyed it, and a part of me
is glad that it happened. And that just seems so wrong to me!"
Helen came over to him. "I understand. You're a one woman man, and you still see it as having had an affair.
You think you betrayed us all by enjoying it." She kissed his forehead. "You'll get past that someday. The betrayal is
if you scheme to make it happen again." He looked horrified at the thought. "Exactly. Talk to your therapist, and
someday you'll get past this."
Hermione stepped back into the conversation. "Now, the official word is that we'll be telling people is that
we're getting married to get him free of the Dursleys. Only a handful of people know that we're already married." She
looked at the headmaster. "They say that suffering is good for the soul, but those are going to be nineteen very long
days, sir," she smiled at him.
"Ah yes, that reminds me. Would you like to follow me? I have something to show you."
They were all curious about the twinkle in the man's eyes, so the procession was formidable. As they
approached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Harry was surprised to see the headmaster stop up against the wall,
about twenty feet from the Fat Lady's portrait. "Ah, Lady Katherine! I'm here to show the room to its occupants." A
portrait of a pretty young woman with hair that could only be described as Weasley Red smiled back and said,
"Excellent, Headmaster! Are they moving in now?"
"No, they will be moving in on September 1st, when the rest of the students move into their dormitories." He
motioned for them to step closer.
"Harry Potter! Hermione Granger! So you're finally getting married! Wonderful! I think you'll love the way
these rooms look!" The painting swung inward, exposing a cosy room with three doors exiting it.
They stepped in to what was a pleasant little room reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room, which Harry
suspected was reachable from the door to his left. The other two doors were on the same wall, directly before them.
They opened them, and found two bedrooms. "Now, we know that you will be sharing a bed, being already married,
but this layout allows the fiction that you are merely engaged to be upheld. On the nineteenth of September, while you
are being married before those of the student body that you wish allowed, we shall remove the bed you are not using
and convert the room into an office for the two of you." Hermione's eyes lit up.
Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione? I have a question for the professor, but I don't want it to sound wrong."
She nodded. "I think everyone is going to assume that we're sleeping together already." He turned to Hermione.
"Actually, I should be saying this to you."
"I think I know what you're suggesting, Harry," she said with a smile. "I think they need it this way to keep up
the illusion. If they do only one bed, they're tacitly permitting us to have premarital sex."
"True. That's why I have you in my life. One of us has to be smart enough to think things through." He
grimaced and said beneath his breath, "I rarely do."
"None of that, Harry," Hermione said. "Or are you going to make me spank you?"
Harry's face went flat at that, and Hermione got worried for just a moment, until she saw the eye twinkle.
"Hmm, we haven't tried that yet," he said, deadpan.
"Harry!" she squeaked, amidst relieved laughter in the room.
Finally smiling, Harry turned to Dumbledore and said, "Sir, thank you very much. Aren't you going to get in
trouble with the governors by allowing us these quarters before our official wedding day?"
"When I explain these precautions, and the fact that moving you after the year has started will cause greater
disruption, then I believe that they will acquiesce. If they don't – well, I have never complained before, but I believe
that I shall remind them who is truly in power at this school. The school has existed prior to the Board, and ultimate
power rests in the headmaster's hands." He laughed. "Actually, the ultimate power at this school rests with the school
itself. When I began to ponder the question, Harry, the castle itself made me aware of this suite. I had not known of
its existence prior to that, and I have been headmaster here for some time." Meeting both pairs of eyes, he said, "The
castle likes the both of you, and does what it can to help you." His eyes sparkled. "Don't be surprised if the castle
helps you locate places for … ah … romantic liaisons, after the wedding has been performed."
Harry's eyebrows rose, and a smile began to cross his face as his eyes unfocused. "Precisely, Harry," Albus
laughed. He looked to Harry and Hermione and became serious. "Harry, you and I had a certain conversation after
your suicide attempt. May I speak with you and your wife alone for a short time?" Harry looked to Hermione, who
nodded. The others left the room to wait in the hall.
"You had considered a method of granting Hermione's parents some level of magical power," he said when the
door was closed. "I told you I would look into it. It is possible, Harry, but dangerous."
"I won't put them in danger," Harry said. "So we scrap that idea."
"They won't be in any danger. The spell involves the sacrifice of a portion of a witch or wizard's own power
in order to activate the capability latent in all human beings. It is believed that the sacrificed portion will eventually
regenerate. But, it is possible for the spell to completely drain the donor, permanently robbing them of their own
ability to cast spells."
"Okay, when do I do it?" Hermione asked.
"You don't, beloved," Harry said. "I do. I seem to have power to spare, and I somehow doubt that the
prophecy is going to let me be completely drained. Besides, how do we know that this isn't the fulfilment of the
prophecy? We both want them able to magically defend themselves, and this is in some way a repayment for the
violation I performed. If I lose my ability to do magic, then it was the proper payment for the debt."
"Harry …" Hermione said.
"Plus they'll have one hell of a brilliant teacher around in the guise of their daughter to help them train up."
He looked at the headmaster. "She's right about the question, though, sir. When do I do it?"
"Except for the potion that they will be required to drink, everything is in preparation, and Severus is working
on that as we speak."
"Have you told him who it's for?" Harry asked.
"No. Why should that have an effect?" Albus asked, making it quite obvious that he knew what Harry was
suggesting.
Harry pretended that he didn't know what Albus was saying and said, "Because if he knew, he'd be fighting
the impulse to ruin it, just to harm me."
"How can you think so little of his potion-making, Harry?" Albus asked sadly.
"Oh no, it's not that. I appreciate that he's a Master, and that his reputation might be at stake. But I'm betting
that it was a truly difficult potion – one that would not ruin his reputation if he did fail, by some oddity. Also, if he
could find a way to strike a lasting blow at me, I think that would make him very happy, sir. I think if he thought he
could permanently strike a blow at me, he just might be willing to screw up a potion."
"How little you know me, Potter," sneered Professor Snape as he opened the door, holding two small flasks.
"Oh, I think I know you far better than you want me to, sir. You and I are cut from the same cloth."
He had never seen Snape turn puce before, and he was quite aware that it was not a complementary colour for
anyone's skin. "I truly hope, Potter, that this spell works to grant me one of my fondest wishes."
"No, it won't kill me," Harry responded.
"Oh no, Potter – that would be over too quickly. I find that I desire that the spell remove all traces of magic
from you. Did the headmaster tell you that if such a thing happened, that you become, for lack of a better term,
allergic to the same spell? I pray that this ritual works to greatest effect. Finally rid the school of Potter spawn once
and for all."
Harry and Hermione merely looked at him and started laughing. "He hasn't been told yet, has he sir?"
Hermione finally gasped.
"No, Severus has not been made aware of the situation to date." Albus Dumbledore was looking less than
pleased with the route this conversation had taken.
"Don't tell him, then. Let him find out from the Daily Prophet."
"Why would I read that rag, Miss Granger?"
She laughed even harder. "Even better! He gets to find out in September!"
"There are things you should know about Harry's …" Albus began to say to Severus Snape.
"No!" Harry interrupted loudly. "I don't give you permission to tell him that."
"It might help him to understand you better, Harry."
"And probably make him hate me all the more. He has chosen, since my very first day here at Hogwarts back
in 1991, to conveniently forget that I am not James Potter, and didn't even get a chance to know the man, because of
the abomination that he served then, and possibly serves now. I have been, in his mind, an arrogant spoiled child ever
since my birth. Well, I've decided to grant him his fondest wish. He wants me to be James Potter, I'll be James Potter
to him." He stared the snarling Potions Master in the face. "I'll prove to him that it was a bad idea to make an enemy
of me. When I'm done with you, you son of a bitch, you'll go crawling to Voldemort to beg for a quick death by being
Crucio'd." He spun and exited the room, almost running into Helen and Doug.
As he left, he heard a sneered, "And that is the last best hope for the wizarding world? We are doomed."
He stormed down the hallway, everyone else except Albus in hot pursuit. He didn't stop until he almost
collided with Minerva McGonagall. He was shaking with rage.
Stopping, he took several deep breaths before trying to speak. Before he could, she spoke. "From that
reaction, I assume that you either were told something you did not wish to hear, or that you met the head of Slytherin
House."
"Head is right," Harry murmured quietly. "He's the biggest dick I've ever met." He met her eyes to see the
quirked eyebrow and mostly hidden smile. "My apologies, Professor. I spoke crudely in front of someone
undeserving of it."
"He does that to all of us sometimes, Harry," she chuckled. "I have no problems as long as you don't do it
during the school year where I can hear it. What did he do this time?"
"Informed me that when we do the spell to grant magical abilities to Hermione's parent, he hopes that it will
remove all capability to perform spells from me, leaving me a Muggle. Not even a Squib – a Muggle." He laughed.
"I'm sorry, but you won't be seeing the House Cup for the next couple years. I told him that if couldn't tell the
difference between me and my dad, then I was going to be my dad. He wants to be my enemy by choice, he'll be my
enemy. My choice."
She shook her head. "We've all told him this childish hatred of you was going to reap a bitter harvest."
"I am forced to admit that you are correct, Minerva," Albus said as he came up behind the group. "He refuses
to release his hatred, and so dooms himself." He looked to Harry, who had turned to face him. "I would admonish
you, but I begin to see what I have overheard the students talking about. All I ask is that you attempt to keep the
mayhem to a minimum, Harry. As little collateral damage as possible, please? I know that if I tell you not to, you will
anyway."
"No sir. If you order me not to, then I will do nothing against the Potions professor."
Albus smiled. "But will your wife and best friend agree to listen to me?"
"That's their decision, sir. If you order me not to do anything, then I won't, but I will not speak for them."
Ron snorted behind them. "Oh, I'll promise if you want me to. 'Course, that means old greasy hair will
discover the power of teamwork. You think that we can't get the Gryffindors and the others to help us?"
"That's what scares me," McGonagall said with a smile.
"Sir?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "When should we do this spell, and where?"
"I believe that some time next week would be good." He looked to Helen and Doug. "Have you been making
the arrangements I mentioned?" They nodded. "Excellent. How does this upcoming Friday sound to you?" They
nodded.