25th June 1995
Ron set aside the copy of the Daily Prophet on the picnic table and sighed at the headlines.
The Boy Who Lived to Save Us Again
Albus Dumbledore Dies in the Battle of Hogwarts
Harry was going to hate it. He was going to hate the adulation and the increased fame; the sycophants who wanted nothing but to say they were friends with The Harry Potter.
He considered the dream the dragon had given him of a Ron who had walked away from Harry at the beginning of the tournament – jealous and envious and stupid.
Ron blew out a breath.
He knew his flaws and he was working on them. He would never walk away from Harry.
He shook his head, swung around on the bench away from the house, and stared out at the Weasley back garden.
Home.
They'd come home after the battle, retreating into the Burrow and simply holding each other as a family; grateful to come through mostly uninjured and alive. But they'd been hurt.
Bill had wept on their mother's shoulder for long minutes; crying out his pain and grief at the loss of his partner. Ron had felt so helpless watching him. He wanted to take away his brother's pain; wanted to tell him that he was so grateful to Caroline for ensuring that his big brother had survived. He wished he could have been there; that he could have helped comfort Bill when it had happened but he'd been passed out in the Headmaster's office. He sighed again and rubbed his forehead tiredly.
The four students in the spell had woken up after the battle. They had waited anxiously waiting for the all clear – pulling George free of the bookcase and tending to him while they did. Then the alarm had sounded and the dragon had told them there was a bomb. But almost as soon as the alarm sounded it was all over. Harry saving them all, Ron thought tiredly.
George had ushered them out as soon as the door had unlocked and Ron had run to find his friends and his father…
The dragon was still awake. It would need four Heads of Houses to put her to sleep again and who knew when that would be? Dumbledore's death had thrown Hogwarts into turmoil although there was a brief note in the paper which announced Professor McGonagall had been appointed Headmistress. At least Sprout and Flitwick had come through unscathed but Snape was in some kind of coma and it wasn't looking good by all accounts.
He shook his head.
He couldn't see anyone returning to Hogwarts to close out the school year. The damage the invaders had wrought was extensive. The Quidditch pitch didn't have an intact stand on it.
"Ron?" His mother sidled up to him and sat down on the bench next to him. She gave a huff at the sight of the papers before she nudged his shoulder with her own. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep." Ron admitted gruffly. "I was thinking about Harry." His face crumpled. "He was so…he was so injured."
His Mum nodded slowly. He'd found out the night before that all the women who'd taken part in the ritual had seen events through Hermione's eyes so he knew she knew just how bad Harry had been; how broken he'd looked as Sirius had held him as though he was the most precious thing in the world.
"He's in the best place to get better and Sirius is with him." She said reassuringly.
"I know," tears prickled over Ron's eyes, "I just…I just wish he was here."
His Mum put an arm around him and he sank into her comforting embrace with just a smidgeon of shame as the tears leaked out and down his face.
"Harry will be back with us by the end of the week. He'll be healed and healthy and we'll all be there for him." She said comfortingly.
"I need to talk to him." Ron said. "I need to tell him…tell him about the dragon and…" he sighed, "what we had to agree so she'd help us." He mumbled the last part, knowing his Mum wouldn't like it.
"What?" Her voice was sharp. "What did you have to agree?" She sounded like she was ready to march down to the school and have it out with the dragon painting. He wouldn't put it past his Mum to do it either.
Ron swiped at his nose; she huffed and handed him a handkerchief. He blew his nose noisily before answering. "We had to agree to be bound to the school. I mean, not that we have to be there all the time but we'll have to live there eventually."
His Mum was quiet for a long moment. She sighed heavily. "I guess that's not so bad. Teaching's a respectable profession."
"I want to manage a Quidditch team!" Ron retorted before his brain caught up with his mouth and pointed out that he had sworn never to tell his mother his career ambitions. "And Harry would be my Seeker, you know?" He hastily added. His face fell. "Not that anyone will want to play where You-Know-Who died."
His Mum hummed. "Maybe you can organise a game when the pitch is repaired and reclaim the space back."
Ron nodded. That actually sounded like a good idea. "You don't mind?" He asked. "About the Quidditch?"
"All I've ever wanted is for you all to grow up healthy and happy." His Mum said firmly.
He'd dispute that since he remembered the colossal row she and Charlie had had when he'd told her about Romania, not to mention the blow-out over Bill and Egypt, but he figured silence was the better part of valour.
His Mum tousled his hair. "Besides, Quidditch Manager will be a good job for you before you end up teaching. It'll allow you to travel and see something of the world before you end up back at the school."
Ron was truthfully rendered speechless.
"Now," bustled his mother getting up from the bench, "I'd best see to breakfast and check the twins haven't decided to take George's ear off in the middle of the night so they match again."
It was a possibility; Ron had overheard them talking about it before he'd fallen into his own bed.
"Do I have time to write to Hermione and Neville?" Ron asked, getting up himself to follow her inside.
"If you're quick. It's just bacon butties this morning." His Mum agreed, a hint of a question in her tone.
Ron shrugged. "Harry will go mental if I don't check on Hermione and Neville said something about the alliance getting together to go over what happened and make sure everyone's taken care of."
His Mum caught his arm as they reached the back door and Ron thought he saw the shadow of someone retreating back into the house. "Ron," she held his gaze forcefully, "we're very, very proud of you."
Ron felt his face go bright red but he accepted the words with a nod.
His Mum smiled at him and pushed him gently in the direction of the stairs. "Give my best to Hermione and let Neville know he's always welcome here."
Ron nodded again and took off for the stairs. He had letters to write and things to care of to make it easier for Harry when he returned. And, Ron thought with anticipation, a Quidditch match to organise.
o-O-o
Time Bubble – 30th June 1995
Harry looked out on the beautiful valley through the window without truly seeing it. He was pressed up against the window pane, the glass was cold against his skin and it helped anchor him into reality. He'd been in a healing coma for three days, bedridden for two more, and the healers had only just allowed him to get up. He still felt exhausted; sore.
He should have died.
He had been at ground zero when Crouch exploded. He had felt the heat and the force; had felt the pain rip through him. He was sure he had died.
There had been a moment – white all around him and the sense of his Mum and Dad, of Death – and then he had been on the ground and Sirius had been there…
"Harry."
As though he had conjured him into being with the thought of him, Sirius was suddenly there. He hadn't left him until that morning…hadn't left him…
Guilt suffused him again. He hadn't known about the tether; hadn't realised what he'd done. He couldn't regret it. It had kept Sirius alive; kept him alive. He wouldn't ever lose Sirius. So, he couldn't regret it but he had done it unknowingly, and without Sirius's consent – and for that he was apologetic (and thank Merlin Death didn't see it as some kind of usurping and forced him into promising his first born son or last remaining descendent as a champion).
"Cold?" Sirius asked softly.
Harry shrugged.
Noshi had somehow managed to finagle Sirius away a couple of hours before – probably to a mind healer since the instance he'd been left alone, Healer Fay had arrived in Harry's room. The painting he'd started was unfinished on the easel. He'd lost interest only a few minutes after he'd started and he really, really wasn't interested in talking.
He hadn't talked since he'd woken up.
Sirius wrapped a thin cotton robe around Harry's shoulders and helped Harry manoeuvre his arms into it as though he was a small child. "There." He rubbed Harry's upper arms, warming them. "Why don't you come and sit over by the fireplace and I'll start a fire."
Harry let Sirius help him off the window seat. He still felt shaky, like a new-born colt trying to find his legs. He leaned heavily on his father until he was safely ensconced on the comfy sofa. Dobby popped in – he'd arrived with an insistent Hedwig within hours of Sirius and Harry's arrival apparently. Harry was comforted by their familiar presence. Sirius wrapped the blanket Dobby provided around Harry's pyjama-clad legs while the elf got a blaze going.
Sirius sat down next to him. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt; leather flip-flops on his feet. His hair was down. He looked as tired as Harry felt. Guilt swamped him again. He knew Sirius was worried about him.
"Healer Fay said you didn't want to talk." Sirius said quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from Harry's face.
Harry shook his head. He curled into Sirius and Sirius wrapped an arm around him tightly. There were tears pressing up against the back of Harry's eyes, clogging up his throat, and he couldn't…he couldn't…
He'd killed Voldemort.
He'd taken a life. And yes, it had been fated and necessary and it had even been weirdly in a way self-defence, but at the end of the day he'd still killed Tom Marvolo Riddle.
He felt monstrous.
He felt relieved.
Relieved it was all over. Relieved that because Tom was dead, Harry could live. Finally. He could live.
Unlike so many others.
Benjamin Nott; a Death Eater who had given up his life to give his son a better future.
Caro; bright beautiful Caro who was smart and funny and who had helped him train; who had helped him defeat Voldemort.
Cedric; his friend who had helped him through the tournament, who knew its trials and challenges in a way only the four of them who had faced Voldemort's tasks could know. They'd been looking forward to playing Quidditch against each other; looking forward to being friends without the weight of the tournament and politics. Harry was going to miss him.
Dumbledore.
God.
Dumbledore.
He was responsible for the Headmaster's death.
Hot tears ran down his face.
Sirius held Harry as he wept out his grief and Harry pressed tightly into the cocoon of Sirius's embrace; listened to the reassuring beat of Sirius's heart underneath his ear, the comfort of his breathing.
The Headmaster had given up his life so Harry could live; so Sirius could live. And Harry couldn't, couldn't feel any regret for finding a third way; for keeping his promise to Regulus; for standing up for Sirius. But he felt guilty because his choice had led to a death; because when all was said and done, he wouldn't change it; he would always choose Sirius alive and well.
And there was a true sense of loss; mourning for a wizard who had been something of a mentor, a grandfatherly figure who Harry could remember with affection for all Dumbledore's mistakes and flaws.
He also knew he should be bothered about what was happening back in England; the guilty tug of responsibility nagged at him.
There was so much he didn't know about what had happened. He had no idea if Snape had lived or died; had no idea if Hogwarts was still open; how everyone was dealing with the aftermath.
He knew the alliance needed them. They had taken losses and hurts. There would be visible and invisible scars for those who had stood beside him.
Theo who had lost a father.
Bill who had lost a partner.
Neville.
His godbrother would need a friend in the aftermath of learning about Hannah. And they would need to deal with the problem of Hannah – and Merlin Harry couldn't quite believe that it had been Hannah who had betrayed them…
He knew the House of Black needed them.
Lucius lived. There was enough of a sense of him still in the family magic to know that. But he could sense the turmoil in the House; the concern they had for him and for Sirius. He couldn't even think about Hermione…
The storm of weeping passed and Harry felt his eyes grow heavy; his head ached dully. Lethargy descended like a smothering blanket.
Sirius stroked a hand through his hair and Harry leaned into the touch.
"Listen to me, Pronglet." Sirius whispered softly. "You've been through a lot – more than anyone should have to go through and you…you were brave and courageous and merciful. I'm so very, very proud of you, Harry."
Harry let the rush of warmth at Sirius's words steal over him.
"You don't worry about anything. You'll talk when you're ready and we'll deal with the rest when you're ready. Just…just focus on healing. That's all you need to do right now; heal." Sirius murmured.
Harry's hands clutched at Sirius's t-shirt, holding onto him.
"I'm not going anywhere, Pronglet." Sirius promised roughly. "I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."
It comforted Harry; eased the worry and fear that lurked within him that he hadn't been quick enough, strong enough; that Sirius had died and it was all a dream.
He listened to Sirius's heartbeat and drifted to sleep.
o-O-o
26th June 1995
Remus watched as Andy greeted Augusta with a warm hug as she exited the floo and wondered at what had happened between the women who had taken part in the ritual. They all seemed more connected. Andy and Dora had been inseparable since they'd arrived at the Black Estate in the hours after the battle.
The past couple of days had been chaos.
Moody had taken control at Hogwarts until Minerva had arrived back at the school. She had been heartbroken at the death of Albus and dismayed at the news about Snape but had rallied and accepted the wards. She was overseeing the repairs to the school assisted by Filius and Pomona, and a particularly talkative dragon painting in her new office.
The students and their families had been sent home from the Black Estate. Some needed to deal with the heartbreak of losses and changed circumstances; some to simply absorb the reality of what had happened.
Remus had retreated that first night to the Black Estate; to his wife. He and Dora had slept together tightly holding onto each other, their hands resting over the precious gift of their unborn child.
He'd spent much of the previous day with his pack. They'd lost two members to vampires and his beta, Patrick, had lost a leg. He'd spent time with those grieving; with Patrick who was surprisingly upbeat and being looked after by an attentive Sian.
And the whole time he'd worried about Sirius and Harry.
It had only been after dinner that he'd had a chance to look at the mail and seen the notice of Nott's surrender and remembered the way Nott had died. Which dragged his mind back to the present and the reason why they were there; to see Theo who had gone home with the Longbottoms and Blaise Zabini after the battle and the news of his father's death.
"Thank you for welcoming us, Augusta." Andy said. "We only got the official notice last night that Lord Nott had surrendered to the House and with Sirius and Harry…" her voice caught and she had to take a breath, "well, things are at sixes and sevens."
"It's only to be expected." Augusta said diplomatically. Her eyes were clear if tired as they met Remus's. "Have you heard anything from Sirius?"
"Not from Sirius but Helen Jordan was able to send a message to say that they had arrived safely and they were healing. Harry's injuries are very serious though and she was certain that they'd probably spend a fair amount of time at the clinic before returning." Remus confirmed.
He expected that Sirius and Harry would only return when Harry was well enough to deal with the aftermath in England. It was comforting to know that they could take the time they needed but also that Remus and the others only had to survive a week without them thanks to the magic of the time bubble. Although, Remus mused dryly, the absence of them was already all too noticeable.
"Any news on Lucius? Narcissa's elf informed me they were still at Saint Mungo's when I enquired this morning." Augusta asked as she led them through the house.
"They saved his leg but the nerve damage was extensive." Andy replied. "He'll need a cane for actual use rather than vanity in the future." She paused. "How is Theodore?"
Augusta's eyes dimmed with sadness. "He's been quiet since he heard the news. I was granted temporary custody yesterday by the Wizarding Orphan Office until the will reading and the matter of custody could be established, but of course the notice of surrender changes things."
She led them through the house to the conservatory.
The three boys were gathered around a table; Neville and Blaise were playing cards whereas Theo was reading. All three looked wan and pale. Remus made a mental note to talk to Augusta about mind healing before they left.
Theo set his book aside and stood immediately as soon as he realised who had entered. "Madame Tonks. Mister Lupin."
Neville scrambled to greet them properly and the next few moments were a haze of greetings.
Augusta cleared her throat. "Neville, Blaise; why don't you take your card game to the library while our guests speak to Theodore."
"That's alright, Madame Longbottom." Theo said quickly. "They can stay."
Augusta nodded regally. "Tea then."
They all sat at the table as a house elf popped in with a tea-tray.
"Our apologies, Theodore." Andy began once the tea was poured and Remus had updated the boys on Harry and Sirius after a quiet enquiry from Neville. "We only received official word last night that the House of Nott had surrendered to our House."
Theo inclined his head. "I had wondered if Father hadn't been able to make the declaration before Voldemort killed him."
Remus frowned. "Your father planned this?"
"He…" Theo paused, collecting himself and Remus watched as the teenager visibly wrestled back his grief. "We'd talked about it at Easter and in letters. Father didn't want to even pretend to be on Riddle's side anymore and he knew Riddle wouldn't just allow him to leave. He expected to die and…we have no close family left." He pressed his lips together as his eyes shone briefly with tears. "He wanted to make sure I would have a guardian…he admired Lord Black a great deal and the way he'd dealt with the Wenlocks."
"Well, your situation is a bit different." Andy said and glanced over at Remus silently handing him the baton.
"Magic recognised the motivation in your father's action. The House surrendered but it is magically in the care of the House of Black until you come of age. I believe, and Gringotts agree with me, that you'll be able to claim your Head of House ring once you've completed your service to the House of Potter." Remus explained.
Theo breathed in sharply. He absently touched the Heir ring he wore. "Father had some old diaries from his grandfather. He theorised a voluntary surrender – that the intent would make a difference. Wenlock acted against the interests of the family magic but my father acted in my protection and the wider wizarding world's. We were hopeful but it's good to know it worked."
"Which brings us onto the matter of custody." Andy said briskly. "The WOO acknowledged that the surrender means you are automatically a ward of the House of Black. In Sirius's absence, Simeon and I spoke about your circumstances this morning. We can wait until Sirius is back, of course, but you're a young man and we'd like to take your wishes into consideration."
"My Father and I discussed it." Theo confirmed, reaching for his cup. He took a small sip of tea and set the crockery aside again. "My Father ideally wanted Lord Black to raise me but…" he grimaced, "he knew Lord Black's priority is Potter – Harry, and he knew that I would never want to…impose on that relationship." He gestured vaguely, stopping them all from speaking. "Look, I'm sure if I insisted on it, Black would take me in and Potter would welcome me, and they'd both do their best to make me a part of their family. How could they not? They're honourable and good people."
"But?" prompted Remus gently when the pause went on slightly too long for comfort.
"But they shouldn't have to." Theo said bluntly. "And Harry deserves better than having to share his father with someone just when he needs him the most. I won't be the one who forces him to do that. I want to build a good relationship with Harry for the future and this…this could harm that."
"Then you have another solution." Andy said before anyone else could comment.
"Yes," Theo said taking a breath and meeting Andy's eyes across the table, "I would be honoured if you would undertake my ward-ship on behalf of the House of Black, Madame Tonks."
"I would be honoured to have you as my ward, Theodore." Andy said fiercely.
A brief look of relief flitted across Theo's face.
It was a good solution, Remus mused.
He couldn't deny that Theo had hit on Remus's own concerns; Harry needed Sirius's whole attention, deserved it after all he'd gone through at the Dursleys and with the events of the last year. And Sirius instinctively knew that. He'd made Harry his whole world and Harry thrived with Sirius's love. Perhaps when Harry was older, he'd feel more comfortable sharing Sirius. Remus hoped so because Sirius deserved to find love and have more in his life than simply Harry, who would grow up and live his own life in time.
Just like Dora was a grown woman, married and about to have a child of her own. She wouldn't view Theo's presence in her family as usurping her own position. In fact, Remus had an idea Dora would love the addition of a pseudo little brother to tease – moreso than Draco who was still adjusting to the imminent arrival of his unborn sibling and who would resent the presence of another boy in the Malfoy household.
Andy and Ted were the best option for Theo. Sirius and Harry would also be very much appreciative about Theo's thoughtfulness in his choice, so it was one which served the young Nott well.
It was an elegant and Slytherin solution.
"Thank you, Theo." Remus said softly.
Theo inclined his head. "Will I…the will and…" he shot a quick look towards Augusta, "Madame Longbottom and I were due to go to Gringotts today and see about the…the funeral."
Remus nodded. "I can take care of the logistics as steward."
Another fleeting look of relief crossed Theo's face.
"I suggest we go to Gringotts now." Andy said. "We can get the access to your house sorted out. Ted and I can always move in with you…"
"No." Theo shook his head. "I'd prefer to…I'd like to go home with you."
"Then that's what we'll do." Andy said firmly.
Augusta rose from the table. "Let me show you to Theo's room; we can pack up the few things he has here."
Remus watched quietly as Theo left the room, sandwiched between the two formidable women.
"Remus," Neville sat forward with intent eyes, "I was wondering if you'd heard anything from the Abbotts?"
Remus repressed the urge to sigh and nodded. "Hannah was admitted to the care of Saint Mungo's after the battle. It's been established that she was subjected to potions and compulsion charms to make her compliant and receptive to Crouch but the extent of that is not known. She was thoroughly brainwashed by him either way."
It wasn't the worst of it though and Remus would rather have cut his own throat than tell Neville the rest; that Crouch and Hannah had been physically intimate and there was a possibility of a child. Hannah had invoked the last Heir protocols on her committal to the hospital. Her parents were forbidden from interfering if there was a child.
"So it was all a lie." Neville said despondent.
"She was sweet on you earlier in the Summer, I'd swear on it." Blaise countered, patting Neville on the shoulder. "Just…"
"Crouch got his hooks into her." Neville sighed heavily and looked up at Remus again. "Do they…please can you convey that if they need anything at all, the Abbotts only have to ask?"
"I will do." Remus promised.
"How's Sue?" asked Blaise.
"Amelia said she was upset but coming to terms with everything with the help of her family." Remus said.
"Sue said she was going to need a tonne of mind healing." Neville noted. He rubbed his forehead. "I feel like I could do with some myself."
Remus nodded slowly. Probably everyone who had been involved with the battle required some – including himself. His own confrontation with Peter had left him confused and bewildered the more he thought about it. And then seeing Harry… "We could all do with some."
"All do with some what?" Augusta asked as she rejoined them.
"Mind healing." Remus said. "The battle was traumatic for everyone involved."
Augusta glanced at the two boys at the table. "Your thoughts, Neville?"
"I think it would be a good idea, Gran." Neville admitted without prevarication. "Harry speaks well of Healer Allen."
"Then I will owl him to make an appointment for you and for Blaise."
Blaise looked startled. "I, uh, I don't think my mother will…"
"Nonsense." Augusta cut in briskly. "After all, your mother was clear in her letter yesterday that until her return from the Continent she is content to leave all matters of your care in, what did she say? Ah, yes; my capable hands." She smiled sharply. "I believe this falls under my jurisdiction at the present moment."
Blaise snapped his open mouth closed and smiled brightly.
Neville beamed proudly at his grandmother.
Augusta nodded. "Why don't you boys head up and change your clothes? We'll go to Gringotts with Theodore and show him some support."
Neville and Blaise both jumped to follow her order.
Augusta sighed, and with their departure her demeanour changed. She looked tired and drawn. "They're good boys." She frowned. "I was thinking of petitioning Nora Zabini to allow Blaise to remain here this Summer."
"I think that would be a good idea." Remus said. Neville would appreciate his friend's company and Blaise would benefit from actual parental care.
Augusta nodded slowly. "I know Harry was injured and I know they need the time away but I wish Sirius and Harry could be with us."
Remus sighed. "Me too, Augusta, me too."
o-O-o
Time Bubble – 2nd July 1995
Harry knew he was dreaming.
It was King's Cross but it wasn't. Just an empty station; the platform of nine and three-quarters completely deserted. There was no Hogwarts Express.
There was a small room off to the side; a waiting room filled with benches and Harry entered it a touch self-consciously. He sat down on the bench and waited.
He wasn't surprised when a moment later Dumbledore sat down. The former Headmaster looked well; venerable and old still, but he looked at peace.
"Hello, Harry." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled at him. "You wanted to speak with me?"
Had he wanted to speak to Dumbledore? He'd had a stray thought before he'd gone to sleep…
Harry nodded sharply but didn't speak. He had yet to talk out loud again and it didn't feel right to talk to Dumbledore – even if the whole thing was in his head.
Dumbledore's twinkle dimmed. "You need not feel guilty about my passing, Harry. My heart sustained a tear in the battle. Poppy might have been able to heal the worst of the damage but my time was coming to an end. Minerva will tell you when you are back in England."
Harry felt relieved at the news.
"It is a difficult thing, Harry, to defeat a Dark Lord." Dumbledore said. "I did not have to kill Gellert. He…he surrendered to me once I held his wand. I like to believe that there was enough fondness for me from our youthful love affair that he refrained from forcing my hand. Or perhaps he simply did not wish to die."
Harry thought the latter was more likely and was glad he had decided not to speak. He wasn't sure he would have been able to comfort the Headmaster.
"There is nothing I can say which will make killing Tom better. And more, the aftermath of the battle…" Dumbledore sighed deeply. "War is a terrible thing." He shook his head. "I lost friends; loved ones. People were hurt; injured by more than spells. It took…it took a long time to recover and through it all I suddenly had a world looking to me for guidance and counsel. It was…overwhelming." He smiled sadly at Harry. "You must take as much time as you need, my dear boy. The world will wait."
Harry watched as Dumbledore settled into a more comfortable position on the bench and Harry settled in beside him.
He woke with a start.
His eyes adjusted to the semi-dark. It wasn't even daylight.
Hedwig hooted from her perch. There was a soft whine of enquiry from the foot of the bed and Harry gestured for Padfoot to stand down. He'd woken his father up every night with nightmares but this was different.
He closed his eyes again.
Padfoot lay his head against Harry's foot; a warm solid presence.
Why King's Cross, mused Harry sleepily. It seemed like a strange location for his mind to choose to meet with Dumbledore.
But there was a waiting room and maybe that was the point. His mind hadn't chosen the location because it associated it with Hogwarts. It chose it because Harry was waiting.
And maybe waiting wasn't so bad.
o-O-o
27th June 1995
Hermione stared out at the road beyond the front garden. It was raining. The type of weather that people joked about when they talked about Britain; grey, wet, cold. Cars drove by, their muted growl almost inaudible behind the double-glazing.
She touched the necklace she wore, twisting the leather around her finger before letting go without even thinking about it. She had been surprised to find it intact; surprised to be handed it by her mother after the battle was over and she'd returned home, throwing herself into her mother's arms and…
Harry had almost died.
He was seriously injured and, apart from a couple of messages Remus had managed to receive from the clinic, she had no way of knowing how he was. She was beginning to understand the frustration Harry had shown about not knowing about Sirius's condition at Yule much, much better.
She missed Harry.
She hoped he was alright.
There was so much he had to deal with.
"Hermione?" Her mother's voice startled her and she twisted round from her place at the window to look at her.
Her mother had taken a week off work; her father covering her patients where they couldn't reschedule. Hermione couldn't remember the last time her mother had specifically taken time off to look after her. Not that her parents didn't love her – they did – and they always took holiday during Hermione's own school breaks to spend time with her and for a family vacation. But…but she remembered having flu in her final year at primary and her mother had still gone to work, leaving Hermione in the care of her usual babysitter, Mrs McGaskill. Hermione wondered whether the ambient magic of the ritual had affected her mother despite her being safe in the kitchen with the elves rather than in the ritual circle.
"Healer Allen is here."
The Healer.
Right.
Andy had mentioned that she had arranged a session with a mind healer for everyone in the House of Black.
It made sense.
Hermione squirmed inwardly at the inner surge of resentment because logically she knew it made sense for her to talk to a mind healer – and God knew she would be the first one arguing that everyone else she cared about needed to talk to one – especially if they'd gone through half of what she had experienced since she'd started at Hogwarts, never mind the battle she'd just gone through.
She sighed and got up to follow her mother into the small study her parents had on the ground floor.
She'd met Healer Allen before – Harry had introduced them. She shook his hand briefly before taking the seat opposite him.
Her mother cleared her throat. "Would you like me to stay, Hermione, or…"
"I'll be fine." Hermione said firmly, despite the nerves rioting in her belly.
Her mother nodded. "I'll be in the kitchen." She departed but didn't shut the door behind her and Hermione realised it was part of her mother's protection – she would be able to hear immediately if Hermione shouted.
"Your mother cares for you a great deal." Healer Allen said, his brown eyes warm and friendly.
"Yes," Hermione nodded, "she's been great about everything." And she had – in a way that Hermione would never have believed the year before. Being sponsored by the House of Black and her mother's friendship with Andy and others had gone a long way to enabling her mother to understand.
"Where would you like to start?" asked the healer.
"I don't know." Hermione admitted, adjusting her position a touch to get more comfortable. "Everything still seems unreal."
Healer Allen nodded. "What's your biggest concern right now…"
"Harry." Hermione talked over him and blushed. "Sorry. It's just…he went through so much."
"And what about you?" Allen stated pointedly.
Hermione shrugged, her fingers playing with the necklace. "It's not really…I mean, compared to Harry…"
Allen smiled at her gently as she stuttered to a halt. "Do you believe that because Harry went through a traumatic experience that it negates any other traumatic experiences suffered by the other people who took part in the battle?"
"No," Hermione immediately replied, "of course not! I just…" she sighed and tried to gather her thoughts into a coherent sentence. "I know it's not a competition and that his experience doesn't mean that I didn't go through something…terrifying, but Harry…he's had this madman after him, and he's had to cope with knowing he had to kill him to get away from him and that…it hurt him a lot."
"You said you found your experience terrifying." Allen stated.
"I didn't really expect to end up right beside Harry in the middle of the battle." Hermione admitted a frisson of guilt curling in her belly. "I thought…it was safe where we did the ritual. It's under Fidelius and it's protected by a lot of wards and it was safe. I was supposed to be safe."
She paused, hearing the tremor in her voice and took a breath.
"The other times Harry's faced him, it's always just been him really. I mean, in first year, we had the traps but they were…just obstacles. It was scary going after the thief but I didn't ever actually confront anyone." She smoothed her hands down her denim-clad legs and bit her lip. "And I was scared about the basilisk but then I got petrified so I didn't really know what Harry faced down in the Chamber of Secrets."
She tucked a hair behind her ear. "Last year…last year was different. I mean, both Ron and I were both with Harry when he confronted Sirius but we won't alone for long and then Remus was there and when they confronted Pettigrew it made so much sense and…it was scary but I knew we were safe? Even when we…when we helped Sirius later, I was…it was scary but I needed to focus and I realised that everything worked out; that it was meant to happen the way that it did and I had Harry with me all the time and that…it made me feel safe."
She sighed and slumped back in her chair. "And that makes me sound as bad as Ginny when she was in fangirl mode and that's not…Harry just makes me feel safe. Not because he's this hero just because he's Harry."
And that was why everything seemed so wrong because Harry wasn't there.
"So when I ended up on the battlefield…I was right beside Harry and I was glad because even if I was supposed to be safe somewhere else, I was with Harry and I could help him." Hermione frowned. "But it doesn't mean it wasn't terrifying confronting Voldemort. I was scared, really scared. But, I knew Harry was there and I was focused on doing the spell to change out Voldemort's blood so it helped me."
"How do you feel about being instrumental in Voldemort's defeat?"
The question took her by surprise and she had to think about it for a long moment.
"I guess I don't think about it like that." Hermione said. "I might have spoken the words on the battlefield but that was because Morgana sent me there; the spell was powered by the coven and Morgana herself." She tilted her head. "It was just…necessary, and I was the…the one who was there."
"What do you think made Morgana choose you?" Allen asked.
Hermione wet her lips. "Everyone in the coven loves him but I think…she came the first time when we were linked with blood in the blessing ceremony and maybe, maybe she remembered that connection." Or saw just how much Hermione loved him.
"But it's true to say that she used the necklace to send you to the battlefield and invoke the blessing." Allen pointed out, gesturing at her neck. "A necklace which is once was a gift from you to him to protect him; something he holds as precious."
Hermione blushed again. "You think she chose me because I gave Harry the necklace originally?"
"Maybe she chose not the person who loves Harry but the person who Harry loves." Allen suggested gently.
Hermione felt her cheeks heat again with another blush. She really wished the healer's theory was correct but she didn't want to jump to conclusions.
"How did you feel when Harry reacted to the threat of the magical bomb?" Allen asked softly, changing the subject and surprising her into looking at him again.
"Just…it was just so like him to save everyone." Hermione shook her head, her hair bouncing. "I…I wanted to be angry at him but I was just terrified he was dead and then…" she fingered her necklace again, "seeing Merlin and Death, that whole conversation was…it was…it was really good of the Headmaster to volunteer and I was so relieved…"
"It didn't bother you seeing Merlin and Death?" asked Allen, a curious glint in his eyes.
"Not really." Hermione said. "I mean, we'd just called the spirit of Morgana Le Fey to help us protect Harry and Harry explained about the family magic and the Peverells so it…it seemed right?" She bit her lip. "I was more concerned about Harry. He was so hurt."
"You and Harry are close." Allen commented.
"He's my best friend." Hermione said without thinking about it.
"I understand he's also your boyfriend." Allen prodded.
Hermione blushed. "Yes, but we'll always be best friends first."
"That's commendable." Allen said with a smile. "You don't think your relationship with Harry will last?"
Hermione brushed back her hair and sighed. "Statistics prove that people rarely stay with their first boyfriend or girlfriend."
Allen hummed. "But the statistics aren't about you and Harry."
Which was infuriatingly true.
Hermione dropped her hand away from her necklace as she realised she was touching it again. "I just…I just want to be realistic."
"Because then it won't hurt so much if it ends." Allen completed the thought that was in her head.
Hermione nodded, looking down a little shamefaced. "It's…I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. Harry was my first friend and if I lost him…"
But she almost had.
He'd fought a madmen for them; protected them from a magical bomb.
Her eyes filled with tears and suddenly she was crying.
Her mother was suddenly just there. Hermione felt her mother wrap her arms around her and draw her into an embrace and she sank into the comfort.
It seemed like forever before she stopped crying. Her mother shifted to sit on the arm of the chair. Healer Allen hadn't moved but his eyes held a wealth of empathetic understanding.
"I really wish Harry was here." Hermione whispered.
Allen nodded. "If he was here what would he say?"
"He'd tell me I was brilliant and he'd hug me and everything would feel right again." Hermione swiped at her face again and blew out a breath.
"You're not alone in that wish." Allen commented. "I believe the House of Black and its allies are feeling the absence of Lord Potter very keenly."
"Has there been any further news?" asked her mother before Hermione could.
"Not yet today." Allen held up his hand. "Miss Granger, I'd like to propose that you and your family move into the Black estate for the duration of the rest of the week, along with some of your closest allies. While I believe your immediate family," he acknowledged her mother with a nod, "is a wonderful support, I think you and others would benefit from being close and sharing your worry."
Hermione looked up at her mother who looked at the healer as though assessing his sincerity.
Her mother sighed. "I'll agree on the proviso I go too."
"Of course." Allen stood up. "I'll let Steward Lupin know your decision. I'm sure he'll be in touch shortly."
Hermione thanked the healer as he took his leave and headed upstairs to pack while her mother showed him out. It was a relief to know she was going to be staying with Remus and the others. It was the only way she could be certain to find out exactly how Harry was as soon as everyone else did.
Her mother knocked on her doorframe. "You alright packing?"
Hermione nodded. Before she could change her mind she crossed the room and hugged her mother. "Thank you."
Her mother hugged her tightly. "You know Harry's not the only one who thinks you're brilliant."
Hermione gave a laugh and continued soaking up the maternal comfort.