Honestly, this story has practically no cliffhangers at all, far less than Power…I had no intention of keeping you there long, but I did want to use the one I had.
I know you're probably interested to read…Please see the A/N at the end where I answer some questions for you….
Chapter 6-Reunions
"Have you gone stark raving mad?" Tonks shouted while pushing Ron off of her.
"We told you to stay home," Lupin added hotly.
"I beg to differ. You told me I didn't need to concern myself with this. I disagree," Ron retorted calmly.
"Do you have any idea what could've happened to us? You just don't jump on someone while they're apparating! I couldn't splinched us both into a tree for the love of Merlin!" Tonks roared on while turning away from them both.
The sheer implications of what Tonks said began to weigh on Ron. He actually hadn't thought of that at all. He had hidden himself in the bushes just beyond the patio and waited for what he knew would come. He knew where they were going and he knew he couldn't get to Privet Drive himself. His apparition tests weren't for two more weeks. It's not like he could just floo to the Dursley's house. He was just beginning to enter into some semblance of an apology when a sharp gasp interrupted his thoughts.
"Remus, look at the door! We're too late!" Tonks hissed as she bolted off for what was left of the Dursley's front door.
"Tonks! Wait!" Remus called after her.
He had no idea what happened, how many they were up against, or if the perpetrators were still in the house. But reason and logic was of no use to Tonks right now and he knew it. Aside from having grown somewhat attached to the Boy Who Lived, Tonks was one of the best Aurors the Ministry had to offer. If she sensed the presence of a dark wizard within fifty kilometers, it was on. There was no stopping her. The best he could do was try to keep up.
Ron was following Lupin so closely he nearly tripped over the hem of his robes twice. When they reached the front entrance, they found Tonks, flattened against the exterior side wall, finger to her lips, motioning Lupin to take his place on the opposite wall. The silent look Remus shot Ron was impossible to misunderstand.
Stay here or else!
With a silent nod, Ron crouched behind a meticulously groomed boxwood and pulled out his wand.
Tonks motioned toward the kitchen at the end of the open hallway silently asking if Lupin heard the same muffled voices. She could make out Harry's tone of voice, although it seemed labored. It wasn't audible enough to make out the words. She could also hear low sobbing coming from an adult woman, no doubt that woman was Petunia Dursley.
Before Tonks or Lupin could formulate a plan of attack, it happened.
And it happened fast.
The sobbing intensified and Tonks clearly heard the two most chilling words in the wizarding language begin to spill from an adult male's mouth. Her eyes widened and connected with Remus Lupin and the two bolted for the kitchen. Ron sat, frozen, in the hedgerows not believing what he was hearing and unable to will his legs to move. He watched Tonks and Lupin run down the hallway only to stop abruptly as a quiet popping noise heralded the arrival of another person.
It was Hermione.
"No!" she shrieked. The hallway had filled with a painfully blinding bright green luminescence and the kitchen dissolved into a cacophony of screams. He saw Hermione's hands fly over her mouth and her knees buckle as she slumped to the floor. Tonks and Remus leapt past her through the doorway and Ron finally awakened the synapses between his mind and his legs.
He jumped from the bushes and ran into the house toward Hermione. He had no idea what matter of dark wizard was only feet away but he didn't care. He had only one sickening thought. His stomach twisted.
I just lost one best friend. I will NOT lose the other one.
He fell to his knees beside her and grabbed her by the shoulders.
"Get up, Hermione! Move!" he tugged her up to a standing position. She fought to pull her eyes from the kitchen floor and looked up at him with a tear-stained and stricken expression. She was speechless, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes to Ron. In a millisecond, he understood what she had seen. He understood what it meant. He understood the grim realization that was threatening to consume them both. She had just watched Harry Potter die. With that, she fainted in his arms.
***
This was one of the moments when Tonks really hoped the Auror training had done what it claimed. The responses of well-trained Aurors were supposed to be so mechanical, so ingrained, that the training took over in times of emotional distress. This was the textbook definition of that time. One look into Remus Lupin's face and she felt her heart break. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
It wasn't just that there was a body lying lifeless on the floor. It was James and Lily's son. It was the boy who so hauntingly resembled his father, Remus often forgot he wasn't addressing Prongs himself. It was the son Remus swore to protect in the wake of Sirius' death. To Lupin, it was tantamount to finding James and Lily dead all over again. It was equal to watching Sirius die again, it was the same as seeing Scabbers transfigure back into a traitorous friend that was just as lost to him as the rest of the Marauders. It was all-consuming, unadulterated grief that he knew he could not bear another time.
Tonks chanced a glance toward the figure crumpled on the floor. He wasn't just anyone. He was Harry Potter. He was the Boy Who Lived. He was the child who was supposed to bring down Voldemort. If he was gone, what did that mean? What did his death mean? He didn't die saving the wizarding world the way everyone expected, if he had to go, he would. He died protecting a muggle. What's more he died to protect a muggle who tortured and tormented him as a matter of practice for the majority of his life. He fought and died to save a family that, while related to him by blood, had never treated him with one iota of respect offered to a typical house elf. So much hope, so much promise, and it was all extinguished.
And he was laughing.
Tonks drew her eyes to the dark figure leaning casually against the counter at the far end of the kitchen. Aside from his piercing gray eyes, everything about him was dark; everything but an electrifying white smile that seemed to glow from across the room. It had the effect of boiling the blood within her veins.
He killed Harry and he was gloating.
Remus and Tonks both snapped their wands to him and shouted their curses of choice as their wands erupted in streams of color and light. As their hexes careened through the kitchen, their target, their nemesis, their new archenemy, swirled his robes in a dashing display of gray smoke and blue light and disappeared as the cabinets behind him exploded from the impact of the curses intended to inflict the kind of pain they were feeling.
All that remained of Harry's murderer was the echo of his laughter in a hollow and now silent kitchen.
***
The room was quiet. He was lying on the floor. He wasn't sure what had happened, but was clearly aware of one thing. The pain was gone. He blinked open his eyes to see a blinding white light. It was everywhere.
He was nowhere.
He looked around to see nothing. Nothing but white emptiness as far as the eye could see. He scrambled to his feet and looked around, hearing nothing but the echo of his own footsteps. Only, he wasn't moving. The footsteps were coming from behind him. He spun on his heel, still fearing the menace he'd just encountered and thoroughly confused about where he was.
In a rush of emotions, he laid eyes on the figure approaching him, and found his answer.
"Sirius?" he asked incredulously.
"None other! Merlin Harry, I wondered how long it would be before I saw you again!" he said brightly as he pulled Harry into a near bone-crushing embrace. "You know watching over you is just not the same as being able to talk to you. I'd ask you how you've been but I know the answer to that already."
"Sirius, what's going on? Where am I? What happened to me?" Harry began to ask in rapid succession, panic rising.
"Whoa, hold on there Harry. The answers are coming," he smiled warmly and embraced him again.
"Oh, my God," Harry said quietly. "I'm dead."
"Let's sit down and talk Harry, you've got a lot on your mind," Sirius said calmly, walking him over to a pair of squashy chairs that looked incredibly like those in the Gryffindor common room. The longer Harry's eyes focused in this space, the more things seemed to come into view. The light was dimming, chairs, and walls were appearing, a roaring fireplace came into view and this space took on a cozy, protected, quality that relaxed him.
"I believe we have some unfinished business," Sirius said softly. "You've been angry with me for a long time."
Harry looked away. Sirius was right. He had been angry with him, but at the moment none of that seemed to matter anymore. Oddly enough, Sirius gave the impression he'd read his thoughts.
"It does matter Harry, even now. That's what this place is all about. It took me a long time to figure that out. But this is where you come to terms with the things in your mind, in your heart, you've never had the courage to face," his warm smile was the only thing keeping Harry calm at the moment.
"It was my fault," Harry said quietly, already fighting back the tears.
"No it wasn't!" Sirius said sternly, gliding off the chair and taking Harry's hands in his. "I don't ever want to hear you say that again. I'm not here because of you. I didn't die because of you. I was a grown man. I made my own decisions. Dumbledore ordered me to stay at Grimmauld Place and I refused. My own recklessness landed me here. My arrogance to think I knew better than Dumbledore. My own willingness to die led me here."
It was the last part that caught Harry's attention. He gave a quizzical look to his godfather and Sirius prodded on.
"Harry, when I lost your parents, I lost most of myself. Twelve years in Azkaban didn't help that. I defined myself by my relationship with them. When they were gone, I didn't know who I was. I died still feeling as though their fate was my fault. That's why I came here as well; unfinished business I suppose."
"So what is this place then?"
"I think this place is what you make of it. I think it's a place you come to make peace with yourself before you can move on," the tears were welling in Sirius' eyes now. "Harry, our time together was so short. I was never quite sure how to act around you. Just when we started falling into comfortable relationship, it all vanished. It vanished before I ever got to tell you the things I really should have."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact I love you with all my heart. I love you like you're my own son. I went to the Ministry because I couldn't watch you die. I gladly gave my life you for and I'd do it again. Understand me when I say my fate was MY choice, not yours."
Harry was speechless. He couldn't muster the energy to speak. He looked at his godfather, kneeling on the floor before him; hands still clasped firmly around his, and did the one thing he'd always prided himself on never having done. He burst into tears.
He was quickly enveloped by a firm embrace that warmed every part of his body. Sirius' chest hitched as he quietly joined Harry in a release of emotion that was long overdue. Harry relished the moment, a loving embrace such that he'd never truly experienced, that he didn't even notice the two other people standing before him quietly wiping the tears from their eyes.
After a few minutes, Sirius pulled back and looked into Harry's puffy red eyes, "Harry, there's some people I'd like to introduce you to."
That was all the more that was said for the next several minutes. Harry looked up from his chair into the faces of the two most familiar "strangers" he'd never met. He clamored to his feet, unable to take his eyes off his parents. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, in awkward silence, unsure of how to address each other. It didn't take long before the motherly instinct inherent in Lily took control of the situation.
"Oh, Harry!" was all she could squeak out as she burst into tears, crossed the room and pulled him into a hug not even Molly Weasley could rival. Harry crumbled into sobs again. He finally had the one thing he had longed for on so many occasions. When he was locked in the cupboard, when he fell off his bike, when Dudley broke one of his ribs, when Lockhart vanished the bones in his arm, when he was recuperating from the triwizard tournament; all he wanted was one hug from a mother…his mother. It was nearly more than he could take. She held him so tight it seemed like she was trying to recapture years of stolen affection in one embrace.
"Careful Lils, you'll kill him twice," a voice chuckled that was eerily like his own. Harry opened his eyes to see a near mirror reflection looking back at him. It was his father. It was Prongs.
He reached out for him and the three of them stood there, Sirius looking on with a beaming smile and glistening eyes. His father said only one thing to Harry, and it made his heart swell like no other comment could. "I'm so proud of you Harry. I'm so proud of everything you've done and who you've become. You're everything your mother and I could've ever hoped for."
More tears.
After Harry had cried every tear he was sure his body could produce, he followed the lead of his mother and sat down on the large couch. Lily and James clasped their hands together, and with her free arm, Lily curled Harry into her. She played with his hair in much the same way she had done so with his father and Harry sighed a breath of contentment.
"So this is heaven," Harry said smiling.
"Not exactly," Lily said, her voice quaking. It was enough to make Harry raise his emerald eyes to his mother's.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Harry darling, you can't stay here with us. It's not your time," Lily said with as much composure as she could muster. It clearly did her heart as much good to hold her son as it did his to hold his mother.
"But, I don't want to leave," Harry said, desperately not wanting to let go of what he'd been given.
"Harry," James spoke again. "There's never been a time in your life when we weren't right next to you. Just because you haven't seen us, doesn't mean you haven't felt our presence. We're always with you, and we will always be with you," he gave a nod to Sirius. "All of us."
"Harry, we love you so much, and nothing can stop that. Nothing can stand in the way of that love, not even death," Lily said smiling, clearly trying to fight back more tears. "But it's not your time, there are others that need you desperately," she strengthened her grasp around his shoulders. "It's time to return to them. We'll be right here waiting when your time comes."
"Go back to them Harry," Lily said softly. "Wake up."
"Go back to them Harry, wake up."
"Go back to them Harry, wake up."
"Come back to me Harry, wake up."
Harry's eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring into the depths of the glimmering mocha irises he had missed so much. With two words, she burst into tears and dropped her head to his chest.
"Hi, Hermione."
He struggled to sit up and Hermione lifted her head from his chest. Even in Harry's incredibly biased opinion, she didn't look good. Her hair was disheveled and had fallen out of the clip she'd pulled it back with. Her clothes looked like she'd slept in them for days and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He couldn't decide if her appearance broke his heart or warmed it. He'd never had anyone care for him so much, no one else who would've looked a complete wreck in the face of his death like Hermione did right now.
He reached up to brush the tears away from her cheeks and his heart broke. The pain in her eyes was unmistakable. She clearly couldn't believe he was alive. He could only hold that gaze for mere seconds before he reached out to draw her into his arms.
Not requiring any more invitation than the slightest of his movements, Hermione thrust her arms around Harry's shoulders and buried her face in his chest. She couldn't seem to stop the deluge of tears and Harry didn't try to stop her. He knew what her summer had been like. He knew what she had gone through every night. And, he knew what it was like to watch someone die. Even though he sat there, holding and rocking her gently, very much alive, he knew the image of what occurred in the kitchen was now as much a part of her soul as the visions of Cedric and Sirius' death were a part of Harry's. It didn't matter that he didn't die. In her heart, she believed he had.
He remembered wanting to cry in someone's arms like this when Cedric died. He remembered the same feeling when Sirius died. He never allowed anyone to be there for him and it was a mistake. He wasn't going to allow Hermione to make the same one.
"It's okay, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "Let it out, love."
She clutched him tighter and didn't fight the emotions that overwhelmed her. He stifled a quiet groan as she continued to bury her head in his exceptionally sore chest. He wrapped one arm around her securely and let his left hand run aimlessly through her hair. He quietly swayed back and forth with her locked in his arms until the hitching in her chest subsided and her breathing began to even. He was not sure how long the scene lasted; he wasn't watching the clock. It had seemed like ages since he had her in his arms at King's Cross.
Letters are all well and good, but nothing can replace the sensation of holding onto the one you love for dear life.
He didn't realize how much his chest hurt until she finally lifted her head to look at him. He winced audibly and she realized where her head had rested. Before she got the opportunity to explode with apologies, Harry seized the moment.
He lowered his head and used the hand, still playing with her hair, to pull her toward him. This was not a kiss shared by two best friends. This was not a kiss shared between a boyfriend and girlfriend. This was an all-consuming expression of a love that failed description; shared by two people who'd been apart too long and witnessed too much. A whispered moan escaped Hermione's throat and Harry took that as an invitation to prove to her, once and for all, how alive he truly was. He drew her tight to his chest and let his tongue dance across her lips, respectfully requesting entrance. She obliged willingly and Harry heard her gasp as their embrace crossed the divide between a chaste re-acquaintance between the closest of friends, and an enrapturing passionate welcome of two souls destined for eternity.
Merlin, I've missed you, Hermione.
Can we stay like this forever?
Why not? How important is eating anyway?
Not as important as you.
Hermione pulled her hands through his raven hair and melted against him.
"Careful Hermione, you'll kill him twice," Ron's voice floated through the doorway. The two broke apart quickly, seeming embarrassed to be caught in such an intimate moment. Harry snapped his gaze to Ron.
"What did you say?"
Shocked by the expression that was crossing Harry's face, Ron was taken aback, "Er, I'm sorry…I didn't mean anything by it Harry…really."
"Harry, what's the matter?" Hermione asked, drawing back with concern.
"Er, nothing. It's just…you just reminded me of someone," Harry said to Ron, grinning inwardly. He wasn't sure what had really happened tonight. Did he die and miraculously come back? Had he actually talked to, and embraced, Sirius and his parents? Was the whole experience of the white room just the unconscious imagination of someone in a near-death encounter? What did it all mean? Did any of it really happen?
It certainly felt real enough. Maybe that's all that matters.
Ron was still standing, motionless, at the door to his room. Harry drew a contented breath and smiled at his best friend. He knew they had a lot to talk about. He knew that conversation might not be comfortable. He also knew, right now, that none of that mattered. He was here, he was alive, and he was surrounded by the two most important people in his life. He picked up Hermione's hand in his own and held his other hand up toward Ron. Ron crossed the room instantly and sat down on the bed, taking his Harry's hand in his.
The three of them sat together without speaking. Each musing in his or her own mind, what did happen, what could've happened, and what may happen still. One thing was clear from this silent exchange between friends, whatever was coming, they would face it together.
This moment did not pass unnoticed.
"I hope that I am not interrupting." A serene but distinguished voice broke the silence.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry acknowledged, looking up into the kind eyes of the headmaster he'd come to know quite well. Dumbledore, as always, looked impeccable. He was dressed in royal purple robes with silver threading and seemed to glide into the room. He smiled warmly at the trio gathered on the bed together and conjured a simple upholstered chair for himself.
"Hello Harry," Dumbledore returned the acknowledgement then smiled and greeted Ron and Hermione in turn. "I should think you have a number of questions. I thought I might be able to offer some assistance." Dumbledore sat back in his chair and waited for the barrage of voices. It didn't come.
Truthfully, Harry had so many questions he didn't know where to begin. There was one question however that stuck in his brain. It burst into his mind the second he woke from Hermione's dream and chanted in his head throughout the entire violent encounter. Apparently, it was ringing in Hermione's head as well.
"We're you wrong Professor?" Hermione asked flatly, not failing to notice Ron's jaw audibly hit the floor.
"Wrong?" Dumbledore looked between Harry and Hermione quizzically. Harry's jaw was set and his eyes never faltered from the Headmaster's. He knew exactly what Hermione was asking and wondered if she had come up with the question on her own or merely heard it screaming in Harry's mind.
"About this house being a safe place for Harry; about the ancient charm that's supposed to protect him."
"Oh." Dumbledore replied, realizing Hermione's point. "Yes and no."
"Yes?" Harry hadn't heard the entire explanation, but the mere fact he might have been subjected to years of the Dursley's for no good reason was enough to make him speak out of turn. "But, you said I was safe as long as Aunt Petunia was around."
"Not precisely, Harry. The charm is effective if you make your home where your mother's blood resides. That has always been here at Privet Drive."
"But this place is still my home Professor! Only now the doors are getting blown off the hinges, I lost count of the number of times I took the cruciatus curse down there and the last thing I remember is getting hit with the AK square in the chest. If this is protection, I `d surely like to see what you define as `danger,'" Harry said, temper rising. Hermione was squeezing his hand firmly in a silent effort to tame his tone of voice.
"Harry, all those things would've happened long ago had the charm not been effective," Dumbledore replied, voice steady.
Harry caught a breath in his chest and before he could expel it in a heated temper, Hermione interrupted him.
"Then why now? Why isn't the charm working now?" she asked concernedly.
"You already know the answer to that question Ms Granger. You've felt it in every ounce of your being all summer."
Hermione furrowed her brow and Harry watched her mouth twitch in that same endearing manner it always did when she was trying to sort out some grand question in her mind.
Gods, I love her.
As if hearing him speak the words aloud, Hermione snapped her shocked eyes to his and then back to Dumbledore's contented grin. He nodded, silently confirming whatever solution had just formulated in her mind.
"What?" Ron said confounded.
"Me," Hermione said so softly it was nearly inaudible.
"You," Dumbledore confirmed.
"What?" Ron and Harry now said in harmony.
"Listen, Professor," Harry started with exasperation. "For as much as I would've loved to move in with Hermione this summer, I still live with the Dursley's…nothing has changed!"
"Oh, I beg to differ Harry," Dumbledore replied. "Everything has changed. Forgive me if I sound cliché, but home is where the heart is." He glanced from Harry to Hermione. "I dare say you've made your home with someone else for quite a few months now."
Harry looked down at his hand, still enveloping Hermione's. She was trying to slide it out to cover the tears erupting from her eyes. Before he could ask the question, she answered it.
"I'm the reason you almost died," she croaked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.
"Quite the contrary Ms Granger," Dumbledore replied, offering her a handkerchief. "You are the reason Harry is alive." At this revelation, every eye in the room snapped quickly to Dumbledore's kind expression.
"What?" Hermione squeaked disbelievingly.
"Harry was unprotected, as evidenced by the string of atrocities he listed a few minutes ago. However, your arrival renewed the charm. His home was again found in the presence of his mother's blood when you arrived in the Dursley's hallway. I don't need to tell you the fortuitousness of your timing Hermione. You saved Harry's life."
The three of them sat silently, staring at Dumbledore and trying to understand the explanation he had offered for the living and breathing Harry Potter sandwiched between them.
Ron in all his eloquence summarized the trio's collective thoughts.
"Whoa."
But Harry still had one pressing question, one piece of this puzzle that didn't make sense. "Professor, How did Hermione get here?"
"Ms. Granger? Do you know how you came to be here?" Dumbledore asked gently.
"I don't know. I woke up from that dream. I had seen the address placard and knew Harry was in trouble. I was pacing in my room, trying to think of anything that could help him. It was weird. I could feel it when Harry was in pain," she fought to keep the tears from coming again. "I couldn't think. I just knew I had to be there with him, in that house, by his side. I closed my eyes, wishing desperately that I would think of some way to get to Privet Drive-feeling hope slip away, and when I opened my eyes again…I was there."
"Just like magic," Ron said with muffled sarcasm.
Hermione shot him a reproving look and returned her glance to Dumbledore's face. She was about to ask the obvious question, when he answered it for her.
"Well, not surprisingly for you Ms Granger, you've managed to get ahead of your classmates, no doubt through an insufferable amount of reading. I shall inform the Ministry of Magic that conducting your apparition test will be a monumental waste of time."
In all honesty, this story has practically no cliffs at all, much less than its predecessor. In retrospect I think I've spent a lot more time on the story than in writing for "shock-value." A few comments…
First off-50 points to reimanr06 for figuring out the chapter title (I conquered death)!! I specifically entitled this chapter so that the overly analytical types-like myself, wouldn't see this as a cliffhanger at all. The first two words of the update told you that he lived through it.
Second, I want to mention a few things about Dumbledore. I've had a lot of reviews and comments that question where I'm going with Dumbledore. I think you saw a bit more of who you remember in this post. I'm operating as Dumbledore still being overly protective of Harry…he has learned from
His experience in the OotP. However, he's got a few other things going on in the background here-that I've either not addressed or have buried it rather deep.
For fear of spoiling my own work… Have you ever had SO much to tell someone, you don't have the first darn clue where to start? Or not enough hours in the day to get the story told? Or you're scared to death of how they'll react to the information when they hear it…especially when they already have the "I must save the world from Voldie" weighing on them. Sometimes, we have to be a bit calculated in what we tell and when we tell it---Dumbledore is no different. He's coming around.
Again, I thank you for your comments throughout the story, and for those of you who have kept with it as it goes along. I understand its complexity might drove off some of the readers…so it warms my heart to see those of you who've stuck with it.
When it comes down to it, like all writers, I'm writing this story for myself, I'm just glad you all are enjoying the ride!
Thanks again!
VLeigh