Born as the seventh month dies

Born As The Seventh Month Dies

by Rufus Copperpot

The summer, following Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts…

Harry was back at Grimmauld Place. Oh, not by his choice, really. The problem was that his insufferable uncle and cousin had made his life so miserable (even with the threat from Moody) that Harry had called for help. At first, he hadn't wanted to go Grimmauld Place. There were too many memories - bad memories there. Memories of how everyone had looked at him like a freak, or like a poor little bird fallen from the nest lost in a world where he did not belong; memories of Sirius's laughter in the kitchen, of the mistrust of Dumbledore; Sirius and Buckbeak; Kreacher, the house-elf, and of the way Sirius' mother had shouted at them continually. No, he hadn't wanted to go there.

He hadn't wanted to go to Hogwarts either. How Dumbledore had failed him last year was still too fresh in Harry's memory. Of course, he'd eventually forgive his mentor and protector, but he was not ready to right now. The Burrow seemed out of question. He didn't want to be around a perpetually teary-looking Molly Weasley. Oh, of course, she wouldn't have been teary because of Sirius's death; she would have been teary looking at him - a poor orphan, forced into a fight he didn't want to enter. Hermione and her parents were gone on holiday. So the Granger house-hold had been out of question, too.

The only real option was Grimmauld Place - the only place secure enough to hide him. Remus, Tonks and Moody had come with him to keep him company as best they could. Of course, Tonks had had to return to work shortly afterwards, but she was fun to be with anyway. Moody was always muttering about constant vigilance, and Remus seemed to be on eggshells around Harry. Remus was sensitive to the fact that Harry had lost a godfather, but at the same time, was dealing with the loss of a life-long friend. Each was grieving; each was dealing with the stigma of being an outcast. Remus was an outcast because he was a werewolf; Harry was an outcast because of the link to Voldemort on his forehead.

Over the first two days, they spoke only when it was necessary, nothing less, and nothing more. They met at lunch and then separated for the rest of the day. Harry busied himself with his homework. The library of Grimmauld Place was extensive, and Harry had been authorized to plunder through it in search of the answers he needed to complete his summer work.

In contrast to summers spent at the Dursley's, Harry was now able to receive mail and news from the wizarding world. He had the Daily Prophet delivered each morning and was avidly reading through it before anyone else had the chance to even glance at it. Harry also kept himself busy with Buckbeak, feeding him and taking care of him. On the evening of the third day, Harry set up his telescope. He knew that he had failed his astronomy O.W.L. He didn't have the results yet, but he felt sure of it. And, even though the topic was not especially appealing to him, Harry decided to devote himself to knowing it better. After all, he had time - plenty of time - and nothing special to do. He found himself looking at his favourite star. Situated in Canis major, the dog constellation, was the star called “Sirius”. Gazing at the star offered him rare moments of peace. It allowed him to think to his godfather without being consumed by guilt. Sometimes, Harry even found himself talking to Sirius while he studied the star. Somehow, he knew that Sirius was watching over him, and looking at the brightest star in the dog constellation was a visible reminder.

Harry didn't hear Remus come up behind him and jumped slightly when he heard a quiet voice next to him.

“I see you're looking there, too.” Remus said, glancing skyward.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, seeming unable to say more.

“I do it when I feel alone… which means nearly every night, of late.”

“I miss him Remus. This house is so empty without him.”

“I know. I miss him, too. It never occurred to me that I would be the last marauder alive. I always thought that I'd be the first to go…” his voice trailed off.

“Why is that?”

“Oh, you know, being a werewolf …it's not an easy life. If it weren't for Dumbledore, I wouldn't be here talking to you now. He's saved me more than once.”

“Oh, I see.” There was an awkward moment of silence, and then Harry spoke again. “I killed him Remus…”

“What? No Harry…”

“I killed him. I should have known it was a trap. If only I had listened to Hermione, she knew…she knew all along that it was a trap and I didn't want to listen to her. I may not be the one who cursed him through the veil, but I'm responsible for his death…”

“Don't say that Harry… Never say that…”

“It's true though, Remus” His voice was strained.

“No, not even close. Sirius loved you, Harry - loved you like the son he never had the chance to have. He did what he did because he felt it was right. He could have let us do that work for him - heck, you had done the most of it by the time we got there - but he chose to come along. You know, Harry, being trapped in this house for so long was taking a terrible toll on him; not being able to protect you himself, always depending on others to do it was hard for him. So when he had the chance, he chose to go and rescue you. He chose what was right instead of what was easy.”

“You sound like Dumbledore,” said Harry dryly.

“Sorry for that. I know he doesn't exactly hold a warm spot in your heart at the moment, but Harry, I don't want to hear you saying that you killed Sirius. You chose to do what you believed was right. You believed Sirius was being held captive by Deatheaters and so you came to his aid. He would have done the same for you - he did the same for you. Nothing in life is certain, Harry. Sometimes, you have to take risks. If you stay at home because of the things that could go wrong if you go out, then Voldemort has already won. We are at war Harry… Sirius knew it. I know it. And you know it too, now…”

“Still, Remus, it hurts...I keep seeing him fall through the veil again and again. It's like I have a Dementor permanently beside me.”

“I know… I have that feeling, too…”

They stayed silent for a while. Then Remus got up and said, “I know I'm not him Harry, but…but if you ever want someone to talk to, or need advice…the kind you used to get from him, never hesitate, ok?”

“Ok, Remus. Thanks…thanks for everything...”

“Anytime…”

That night, for the first time since the awful events of June, Harry slept without nightmares.

Two weeks later, Harry had written several letters to Ron and several to Hermione. The letters were different for his two best friends. He was slightly aware of Ron little crush on Hermione. It was difficult not to have noticed it. It's not everyday that your male best friend buys cheap perfume to your female best friend. Somehow, he doubted that Hermione felt the same way in return. Sure, they were great friends but he couldn't picture them together. But if they wanted to try it, Harry would be sure to bring popcorn and a comfortable chair for a ringside seat at the rows they would have inevitably. He could see it now…

“I want to study!”

“I want to snog you senseless.”

“We've the N.E.W.T.'s coming!”

“Bugger the N.E.W.T.'s. When is that bloody dinner served?”

For once, Harry had taken the time to write to his friends in earnest. He had let them know where he was (in code of course), how he was (though he didn't say everything in his letters) and how much he missed them both. He talked about Quidditch and the DA with Ron. Harry teased him a bit about the fact that Luna Lovegood seemed to have a crush on a certain Gryffindor prefect. But was it a real crush? Or was it something Harry was trying to wish into reality. Harry was more open in his letters to Hermione. Somehow, she had always been his confidant and there was no reason that should stop now - especially now.

Harry was in the middle of a letter when realization broke over him like a giant tidal wave - the kind of tidal wave you get when a gigantic asteroid falls to Earth, sweeping away everything in its path - everything except truth, that is. He had thought about Ron's crush on Hermione, and about Luna's crush on Ron. But what he hadn't foreseen, had never even considered, was the thought that he could have a crush on Hermione, himself. The possibility was so enormous that, at first, it felt ridiculous. A crush on Hermione Granger? How silly is that idea? But is it so silly? After all, he was the one who told her that she was beautiful. Of course, he argued with himself, at time he was going out with Cho Chang but… And the way he knew her… Harry brain seemed to have jammed; he was in trouble. These were totally uncharted waters. His quill slipped from his fingers and onto the parchment he'd been working over, sending drops of ink flying. Harry neither noticed, nor cared as he bolted from the room.

Remus was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for both of them. Harry threw himself into a chair. On his face was an odd, slightly panicked look Remus had never seen before.

“Need some help?” Harry asked, trying to sound calm and failing utterly.

“Not really. Cooking with magic is fairly simple. Of course, I could conjure something for us to eat, but somehow, cooking helps me to relax.” Unable to ignore the tortured look on Harry's face any longer, Remus asked casually, “Something bothering you?”

“No… Err… Yeah in fact, there is… something…”

Remus raised an inquiring eyebrow, “Go on then…”

“Well, I don't know…”

“Harry, you know I'm there to listen, right?”

Harry nodded, then blurted out, “Yeah… See, it's rather complicated. It's a girl problem.”

“What happened with Hermione?”

“What?”

“Did something happen between you and Hermione? Have you quarrelled?”

“How do you know that I was talking about Hermione?”

Remus grinned boyishly, “Harry, do you listen to yourself when you talk? Since you started your letter-writing campaign, I rarely hear Ron's name. Hermione's name, however, I hear quite often. Besides, that's not all Harry, a few nights ago, I was awake and wandering the halls. I went down the corridor and heard you speaking; you were talking in your sleep. I'll give you two guesses at the name you were muttering. Not to mention last year, when you were all here -she was the only one able to put a smile on that face of yours. Your affection for each other was…well, obvious. I don't think anyone else in the room could have missed that. Well, except for Ron…”

“We were obvious? We? As in she's feeling the same way back?”

“Seriously Harry, do you think that a girl would suffer so much and not be in love with you?”

“I don't know,” Harry said slowly, “my…err…experience in this domain is not particularly extensive. I mean, last year, with Cho, she wasn't ready to follow me into the battle at all… But again, that didn't last long… And I'm not interested in her anymore…”

“So basically, you're ready to move on from your previous relationship; you realize that there is a girl who has been pining for you for five years and you don't know how to feel?” There was a teasing quality in Remus's voice.

“Err, basically, that's right… But now that I've spoken with you, my mind is a little clearer. Thank you Remus…”

“So, are you going to tell her?”

“I don't know yet… Maybe, maybe not…”

“Don't play the hero on this subject Harry. The heart of a young woman like Hermione is not something to play with.”

“I know… that's the problem.” Harry sighed and let his face fall into his hands.

“A you have problem, why? You like her, she may like you… Seems pretty simple to me.”

“Nothing is ever simple in my situation. You know that Remus.”

“Yeah… I know… But consider it from another point of view, Harry… She won't wait for you indefinitely. Some day, she'll be tired of waiting, and then some guy will along, sweep her off her feet and she'll be gone…”

Harry was silent for a moment, pondering Remus' words, and then he muttered quietly, “At least, she would be safe.”

But unfortunately (or fortunately for Harry), Remus was paying attention and heard him. “Don't look that way Harry… You know Hermione won't be safe if you're not safe. For one thing, she's a muggle-born witch, something Voldemort despises even more than you. For another, she's completely able to defend herself; she proved that to you in June. Lastly, think about what saved you when you were one year old…”

“The love of my mother…”

“The love of a woman who loved you so much that she had preferred to sacrifice her own life… If Hermione loves you, she has the same kind of love your mother had for you… And nothing will stop her from joining you in your fight.”

They stopped talking. Harry stayed where he was… sitting on his chair… silent. After a moment, he stood up and went to the door… turning, he said, “Thanks for your help, Remus.”

“You'll thank me when your problems are solved… Now go…”

Several days later, Ron and Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place. It was early in the evening. Ron arrived with all the Weasley's. Hermione arrived on her own, carrying her trunk and the hamper wherein, Crookshanks was napping. They had a good time telling each other what they had done so far during their summer holidays. As expected, Hermione had done her assignments even before taking the trip with parents. Also, as expected, Ron had not even bothered to open his books to find out what their assignments were. To everyone's surprise, Harry had finished his homework too and some of his rolls of parchment were even longer than Hermione's. Ron scowled, but Hermione was beamed with pride. Harry noticed the look that Ron gave Hermione. And then he received a look of his own from Ron. But Hermione was oblivious, looking at Harry with positive admiration in her eyes. She turned to Ron and said, “Why don't you follow Harry's example, Ron?”

Ron snorted, “It seems Harry's taken a leaf out of your book, Hermione. Why did he have to follow your example? We are on holiday still, but with you two, I'll never see the end of work”

“Come on Ron, it's not that bad,” Harry grinned.

“Not that bad Harry? Did you look at your homework? Your bloody potions essay is one roll beyond what Snape asked for!”

“And that's bad how, exactly?” Hermione asked, a warning tone in her voice.

“Oh, it's not bad for you Hermione, but that's just not Harry. It seems totally out of character.”

“Well, a guy can change you know.” Harry teased.

“Yeah, right Harry, and Snape will love us Gryffindors next year.”

“No Ron, I mean it… You know, since the end of last year, everything is different…”

“What exactly is different, Harry?” Hermione asked, her voice sounding slightly worried.

“Well, I don't know really how to put it… Truth is, I really don't know how you're going to react to what I'm about to say. And this is not something light.”

“What is it mate? You sound like you've got a horrible disease or something that can't be cured.”

“Oh, it can be cured all right, only…” Harry's voice faded at the look on Hermione's face.

“Only what Harry?” she asked, her mouth going dry.

“Only I have to become a full fledged murderer in order to be healed…”

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Pleasant, isn't it? As if I didn't have enough to deal with, now I have to accept the fact that someday, I'll have to commit a murder in order to be free… In order to live…”

“But I don't understand, Harry…” Hermione said in shaking tones.

“Remember last June when we were surrounded by Deatheaters? I was holding a prophecy in my hands, right? Well, during the fight, the prophecy got smashed and in the noise I couldn't hear a word of it. But in the end, it didn't matter, because someone else heard it years ago, someone the three of us know well. In fact, we even know the person who made the prophecy,” Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and taking a deep breath said, “Ron and I have been in her classes for over two years now.”

“Dumbledore and …”

“… Trelawney”

“That old fraud?”

“Yes, Hermione, that `old fraud', as you put it, went into one of her trances when she was interviewing for a job at Hogwarts, years ago. She said : ”The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power that the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies… “ (Order of the Phoenix, p 741)

Silence hung over the three…

Ron spoke first, “Wow mate… I mean… Wow”

Hermione didn't say a word. She got up, flung herself toward Harry and gave him a hug while sobbing on his shoulder. Ron frowned, but said nothing.

Harry spoke again, “I must insist on one point… Voldemort knows only the two first sentences of the prophecy. He's desperate to hear the rest - that's what he was doing in the Department of Mysteries that night - trying to steal it. It is vital that he doesn't hear the rest of it, so please, keep it a secret.” They nodded, understanding completely. “And now, if you don't mind, I think we should all go to bed. The day has been emotional for all of us and a little rest would do us all some good.”

Ron nodded and went off to bed, but Hermione lingered, still enveloping Harry in a hug. She was beginning to calm down. She muttered something in his ear, “Does it have to be you?”

He hugged her back and said softly, “Yes, I'm afraid it does. It might have been Neville, but since Voldemort gave me this,” Harry gestured to his scar, “he marked me. That seems to have erased any doubts…it's me.”

“I'm so sorry, Harry… “

“I know,” he smiled reassuringly at her, “You should go to bed you know…”

“How could I sleep knowing what I know now? How can you sleep?”

“I've found a reason to fight… A reason worth killing him and it soothes me.”

“Oh? Care to tell me?” she asked dryly, “It might help me to sleep, too, you know.”

“I could tell you,” Harry said slowly, “but I have a few things to resolve before I can. Besides, I sincerely doubt that it'll help you sleep.” He ruffled her hair, “Now go… you need your beauty sleep”. He flashed her a goofy grin. She smiled at him, stopping to hug him one last time before heading toward the room she was sharing with Ginny. Harry immediately regretted not to have her in his arms anymore, but as he had said, some matters needed to be sorted out before he could speak to her, and one of those matters was waiting for him in his room.

Ron was still awake when Harry returned to their shared room. On his face was a brooding, pained expression. He was obviously unhappy about something. Harry sat on his bed, face to face with his best friend. Ron looked up and spoke, “Since when, Harry?”

“Since when what, Ron?”

“Harry, don't play this game with me! I'm your best friend! I've lived with you the last five years! Since when did you start liking Hermione as more than a friend?”

“I don't know Ron. Does `a very, very long time' satisfy your curiosity? No, I didn't think it would. I've loved her unconsciously since the beginning, Ron. But I only became vaguely aware of it this past February. I confirmed my feelings later, in June, when she nearly died,” Harry let out a long sigh, this was difficult, “And three days ago, while I was writing her a letter…”

“Did you say anything to her yet?”

“No, of course not. This is the first time I see her since we parted in June, Ron.”

“Damn Harry… I don't how to say this, but…”

“You've got a crush on her too…”

“Yeah… At least, I think so…”

“I don't `think' Ron… I know… This is it… She is the one… I know it - deep in my heart. And because you are my friend, I want to be honest with you. I've seen you try to get her attention. I knew that you fancied her too… And maybe that's why I never said anything, until now. I think that maybe, we can sort this out like adults…”

Ron looked at Harry; there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“There is nothing to sort out Harry. I like her… It's true… I won't deny it. You know it and I know it… But I know one think that you may ignore: she does not see me as a potential boyfriend. Haven't you heard her talk? Who does she praise when we're doing something? To whom does she go when we are sitting together? Who did she constantly talk about to the point of driving bloody Krum mad? You, Harry… So yeah, I like her, but I prefer knowing she's happy with you and that she's still my friend, instead of her being unhappy with me and my eventually losing her not only as a girlfriend, but as a friend as well. I realized that tonight while she was hugging you as if there would be no tomorrow…” Ron's voice trailed off, and he looked away.

“Wow, Ron” Harry breathed, “I don't know what to say, except, thank you mate…”

“Don't thank me Harry! Thank her… And you'd better make sure that she's happy… Because you may be the one that will kick You-Know-Who's scaly butt, but I'm the one who will kick yours if I hear that she's unhappy.” On those words, Harry hugged Ron and they went to sleep

That night, Harry was found himself agitated. He tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. Beside him, Ron was snoring happily. Harry decided that enough was enough, and went down to the living room. He headed for the couch in front of the fireplace, and discovered to his surprise that he was not alone in the room.

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Harry”

“What are you doing here?”

“Couldn't sleep after what you'd said… “

“What about your beauty sleep?” He smiled softly at her.

“Very funny Harry…”

“Want me to tell you how I cope with this? The secret weapon I've found?”

“I thought that you had issues to resolve before you could tell me.”

“Yes, I did. But they've been settled. It's done…”

“Oh” she whispered, hardly daring to look at him.

“So? Want to know?”

“Yes, please!”

“You're it.” His voice though low, seemed to vibrate through her.

“What?”

“You are the secret weapon…”

“You're not making any sense, Harry.”

“On the contrary, I'm making all the sense in the world. We both know that Voldemort is a very skilled wizard, don't we?”

“Yes…”

“And we both know that he has mastered nearly every form of magic in existence….”

“Yes, that's true…”

“But there is one power that he knows nothing about, that he cannot comprehend. Have you guessed?”

“I'm confused…”

At that moment, Harry stopped talking. He looked Hermione in the eyes, his face only inches from hers. The firelight reflected in their eyes. Hermione searched for something in Harry's eyes, and found it. Harry searched for something in Hermione's eyes, and found it.

“The only power unknown to Lord Voldemort, the only form of magic he cannot master…”

“…is Love.”

~*~finis~*~