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See Chapter 1 for Disclaimer.
Harry grinned. "Less flattering qualities?" he joked, running his fingers through his untamable black hair.
"Not exactly that, Harry... I always did find James's hair to be one of his most attractive attributes--" she shot a sideways glance at Hermione, which Harry didn't notice, "-- but his temper was a less flattering quality that I know that you have picked up. It's who you are, and who he was. I know how much you take after your father, how much you take after me, but I also know that you have taken many of your qualities from the people who surround you now. I also know that you get some of your qualities from someone we never would have wanted you to share anything with."
Harry looked downcast. "Voldemort," he said. "It kills me to think that there is some of him in me."
"You're fighting it, though," Lily nodded at him. "He's gone, Harry. You killed him. With time, his influence will leave you more and more. Just know that now, you can't be used as his pawn. You are you, and what he left in you is just a scar of the kind of life that you had to lead for the first seventeen years of your life. Voldemort can't influence you any more. Now, I know, and I know that you know that evil is not gone. There is always evil, but as long as you keep hope and love in your heart, you can stay afloat."
Under Lily's motherly gaze, Harry absentmindedly reached his hand up to touch his physical reminder of his years of being The Boy Who Lived, and his years of being The Boy Who The Dark Lord Wanted To Kill More Than Anything Else In The World. It reminded him of the last two years, when he became The Boy Who Will Either Vanquish The Dark Lord Or Die. It also jolted him a reminder of exactly what that scar meant. He glanced over at Hermione. She shot him back a comforting, yet assenting look that told him that she knew what he wanted to do, and she approved. Harry took a deep breath, fingering his scar lightly. "Mum," he began, barely whispering. "My scar... the one I got when... well when you died, from the protection charm... did you know Hermione was going to get one too?"
"Not Hermione in particular," she answered gently. "I knew that whoever was going to receive the other end of the spell would get a scar, a small one, but I didn't know it would be Hermione." She looked over at Hermione, who had kicked off her shoe and was removing her sock. "How did you find out, Harry?"
"Dumbledore told us about you, and your spell, and how we both lived... he told Hermione what her scar was, and what it meant..." he trailed off. Dumbledore hadn't actually told them what it meant. No, he'd told them that she was destined to be close with him. Hermione and her eagle-eye reading had told them what the scar meant. Harry couldn't finish the sentence. They hadn't really talked about what that book had told them. But both of them knew that it was going to come true, and Lily was dead anyway. No harm in her knowing, especially because it was partially caused by her spell. The rest had just been the fates. Lily might even be able to offer them guidance. She knew a lot about the fates.
Lily smiled warmly, and knelt in front of Hermione, who was now sitting next to Harry on the rock. Lily looked down at Hermione's ankle, at the mark that, for some reason, had become much more noticeable. It was slightly larger, though still smaller than Harry's. It was raised slightly, and tinted pink. Lily studied it, and glanced up at Harry, whose eyes were closed. She looked them back and forth, and all of the sudden, a look of stunned realization crossed her youthful face, followed by a broad, lopsided grin that looked as if she'd borrowed it from James. She took Harry's hand in hers, and placed it over Hermione's. "I had suspected," she smiled. "I'm not surprised, and I can say that I'm pleased. I would say that I don't know how a Potter like yourself was able to land a brilliant and beautiful lady like this one, but I think that I've lost my right to. After all, I was the brilliant and beautiful lady, and the Potter charm eventually got to me," she quipped, laughing. "Fate. You can't escape it. You see, you two are so close. You share everything, and you already care so much about each other." She paused for a moment and her eyes clouded for a moment, in reminiscence. It was truly incredible how realistic this shadow, the memory of her, was. A slightly shy smile broke across her face. "I believe in fate now. I think I have to, after falling in love with, and marrying, the biggest prat on the face of the earth," she laughed. "You know I once sat here, by this lake and told James I'd rather date the giant squid than him. Actually, I can safely say I did that many more times than once. Thousands of times, probably."
With that, there was a splashing sound, and a large eye surfaced. "Sorry about that, I never got to go out with you, although I'm sure that you're quite a gentleman," Lily said, half-sincerely to the squid. "Honestly, though, I know that fate really came and gave us a shove. I'm not sure how or why it happened, it just did. And then you, Harry. And us. It was fate that the prophecy was referring to you. It was our fate to fall in love and have you and be killed. It was yours to be the one that stood between the Dark Lord and his pureblooded kingdom. And there is absolutely no avoiding, hiding from, escaping fate. Trust me, if anyone told me in fifth or sixth year that I would fall head-over-heels for James Potter, I'd have laughed at them, and then hexed them into the next week. But it happened. There's no escaping it, Harry, Hermione, and I'm fairly sure--" she glanced between them and at the hands that were still joined "--that you don't really want to."
Neither Harry nor Hermione could bring themselves to look the other in the eye, both for very different reasons. Hermione gazed off into the distance and willed the tears not to fall. It wasn't that she was sad for herself, or for the scars. She knew that she loved Harry, and she knew that, in time, it could easily become that kind of love. It was getting there already, she could feel it. And she had nothing against it. All for it, in fact. But there was one thing that held her back, that brought tears to her eyes. She knew that fate couldn't be changed. She'd learned that lesson quite well over the past few months. The one thing that concerned her was, well, Harry. Harry's life had been scripted, it seemed, by fate, prophecies, and predestination. Although Harry had always been decisive and shown very good judgement, much of his life was controlled by things out of his control: his parents, Sirius, the night when Wormtail had escaped, and, of course, the prophecy. The prophecy that had committed him to a life of terror and grief until he met with his destiny. Hermione knew that he had lived, survived, came out on top of all that had been thrown at him. It was all over, now, with Voldemort. Now was Harry's chance to live his own life, his own way. It pained Hermione to know that it was she who stood in the way of Harry living his life on his terms. It was all finally over, and it had turned out that Harry was again committed, scripted to a life that Hermione didn't know that he really wanted. That knowledge hurt her. She couldn't look at him, but she made no move to slip her hand out from under his.
Harry wouldn't look at Hermione, either. Thoughts of the two of them together played through his mind. She was truly wonderful. He wasn't upset at the fates' new twist in his life line, in fact, he couldn't help being pleased with it. But he held himself back from being happy. He couldn't be. He had spent too many years of his life trying to protect those that he loved from having to become wrapped up in his dangerous life. Hermione had succeeded in breaking through his barriers, in fact, she had tried to sacrifice her own life for his, but somehow, he'd saved her as she saved him. He couldn't let her get hurt again, though. He snuck a look at her, while she looked away, out into space. She had grown up with a family, with people who cared about her. She'd been loyal, intelligent, and wonderful to him. He was not going to let her ruin her life, marrying someone who didn't know how to love. If he'd known how to love, he'd know that he truly did love her. He hated that she had been drawn into one of his lines of life, and she had no choice in the matter. He'd hated that she had been willing to sacrifice herself for him. He felt he hadn't deserved it, and that Hermione didn't need to be pulled into the hellish life he had been leading. But he knew that it was her decision. She had wanted to be there with him, wanted to give him that one last chance. She had no decision here, no choice. And it stabbed him inside to know that.
The shadow of Lily saw them, sitting, staring off into space. She looked directly into Harry's eyes, the ones that mirrored her own, and although he did not look back, she could see deeply into the orbs of consciousness. She knew that he had become more skilled at Occlumency, but with him like this, not fully aware of everything around him and with his vigilance slightly compromised, she felt that it might be worth a try to read his thoughts. She looked deep into his mind, and although his memories were closely guarded, she could easily make out his current concerns. Pulling out of his mind, she looked over him again. She didn't need to be a Legilimens to see his thoughts. She was his mother, and that caused a bond, unbreakable even in death.
Harry obviously realized that his mind had been invaded, and he quickly snapped out of his pondering. He looked around, because he knew that whoever had been inside his thoughts was near. He made eye contact once again with Lily, and raised his eyebrow in questioning. "Yes," came the silent answer from her, heard only by him. She was speaking to him, inside his head. "You aren't forcing her into anything. None of this is your fault, and Hermione is not being put into anything that she doesn't want."
"It's not her decision," Harry answered in his mind. "And I don't know how to love. I can't give her what she deserves, someone who will love her above everything else. It's not that I don't want to. I just don't know how."
"Yes, you do," Lily replied, calmly to her son, still communicating with him through his thoughts. "This concern you have for her... how you are seeing her feelings above your own... it all shows love. You do know how to love. Not only that. You know how to love her."
Harry blushed and looked away, breaking the eye contact. To his surprise, though, the voice in his head didn't cease to exist immediately. "She is the best thing to happen to you, and you know it. Don't let it get away because you think you aren't good enough," his mother's voice coaxed.
He was quite confused. How was Lily in his head to communicate with him when she didn't have eye contact? "This isn't Legilimency, Harry. I'm not in your head. I'm in your heart. Someone very wise once told me that those who love us never really leave us. They can be found within us. I'm here, Harry, and I always have been. I am your mother, and you are my son, and that bond is stronger than any bond of the mind." Her voice was deeply comforting, and soothed his soul.
He turned to look first at his mother, who still stood calmly in front of him. Then, slowly, he looked over at Hermione. She was gazing out over the lake, at nothing in particular. Her legs were folded under her, and her finger slowly traced her own scar. Harry took a deep breath and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She looked at him, in his eyes. For the first time, for as long as she could remember, his eyes were empty of fear, of anger, of the weight that wore on him. His eyes were crystal clear, and they bored into Hermione's soul. They shared small smiles.
There was another soft splash. The three looked out at the lake. Gracefully, the giant squid surface again, its huge eye looking them all over. He gave them what was undeniably a large, tentacled grin and Harry could have sworn he saw the squid wink. With a rush or water, it disappeared into the depths of the lake.
"Do you think he's over me?" Lily joked, smiling over Harry and Hermione, her son and future daughter-in-law.