Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 21: The Tie That Binds

Hermione willed herself to move, to speak; if only she could just move one foot in front of the other she might be able to do something about the horrible scene playing out before her now like some nightmare from which she couldn't wake. The whole thing was impossibly wrong, false…this was not how it was supposed to be. Voldemort couldn't win…from the moment she'd met Harry Potter on the train some seven years ago, she'd known ultimately that the dark lord would be destroyed. Evil never won in the end, did it? Didn't good always ultimately come out on top?

Yet, here she was, staring at the immobilised forms of Harry, Ron; perpendicular to Harry, and herself, sprawled out at their feet. They were in the dark Forest of Kavan, she realised now, as she saw the burned out ruins of what must have been the dark lord's rebuilt home, now destroyed again.

Voldemort stood above them, tall, fully formed, and filled with an unholy glee as if he knew some secret that he was about to divulge. Death Eaters stood all around him, and…dementors? What were they doing there? Weren't they still guarding Azkaban? No…she reminded herself, they had defected. Of course, they had joined Voldemort. Who else was there to unite with? If they weren't with the ministry anymore there was only one other side to go.

Voldemort was addressing his followers, spouting off some egotistical speech he'd probably been planning for years in expectation of this very event. Hermione took that opportunity to gaze at herself, Harry and Ron on the ground. If she listened closely, she could hear what Harry was saying to them…

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…this is all my fault…"

"Shut up Harry," Ron's voice seemed hoarse and he turned his head as far to the side as he could. "You can't take all the blame for this you selfish git…We all failed…all of us."

"But I…"

"Ron's right," this was herself talking now, and Hermione leaned forward, almost in anguish herself at the painful expressions on the three faces. "We're all to blame…we all made the pact, remember? We're all in this together, we…"

All in what? Where was she? What in Merlin's name was going on!?

"Never mind," the Harry on the ground spoke up again, "Never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over, I…but I won't die without telling you both how much you mean to me."

Ohmygod… So Voldemort was about to kill them… Hermione wondered to herself how she could've expected anything less…

Harry was taking one painful turn after another, pouring out last words of love and friendship to both she and Ron. Hermione opened her mouth to scream at him…to snap him out of his lethargy…to make him do something; after all, he almost didn't need his wand anymore… However, not a word escaped her mouth, not one sound from her throat. She was bound here to watch herself and the two most important people in the world to her die, and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd always hated the feeling of helplessness, even to the point of almost hating dependence on anything or anyone. But now the absolute tangibility of it washed over her like some giant tidal wave, shoving her down into the sand, scraping her body backward into the undertow, sapping her strength and stealing her breath.

Voldemort was now gesturing around himself to his followers like a king addressing his army. "With the death of these comes the dawning of a new era…A time in which darkness will rule once again…"

Hermione tried desperately to scream, waving her arms and willing the three on the ground to turn their heads and see her, but nothing happened. It was as if she were in a dream. All she could do was watch the three captives on the ground grow increasingly despondent. Please get up...please do something! DON'T GIVE UP!

"…Ron…you're like my brother. Y…you don't know how much you mean to me…"

Merlin, ohgod, anyone...oh my god, he's coming toward them…

" 'Mione, I love you so much…You'll never know…how much…"

NO PLEASE DON'T LET THIS HAPPEN...

"Harry, don't…" the Hermione on the ground was sobbing now, as much as she was.

"I wish I could've had more time with you. I don't know why we can't…but I want you to know, you mean everything to me."

The Hermione watching fell to her knees in torment, blind to the fact that on either side of her knelt two others doing the same thing…hands to their faces, screaming in silence, trying in vain to move forward, to intercede. Unknown to her, she mouthed at the same time the exact words that her counter-self, lying on the ground, responded to Harry with in utter agony.

"O god Harry, I love you too…"

No more words were said because Voldemort had chosen that moment to finish his speech and was now bearing forward toward them, followed closely by two Death Eaters.

"You two take whichever you want," he said, and moved with practised ease and an expression of rapture over toward Harry. "But Potter's mine."

After these words were spoken, Hermione could hear no more. Her hearing was beginning to fade and she realised with a sickening jerk downward of her heart, that this was not going to end the way she had hoped.

She watched in pure horror as Lucius Malfoy lowered the hood of his black robe and murdered Ron with one lazy movement of his wand. She watched with a sick lurch of her stomach as the Hermione on the ground turned to Harry and gave him one last unheard admonishment, and perhaps a goodbye, before the other Death Eater killed her as well.

Finally, as it was only Harry left to deal with, the sky above her suddenly grew darker. She realised that it had begun growing darker the moment Ron had died, but now, the change was all the more noticeable. What was once the orange, pink and dusky purple of a new dawn had now turned to a dark ashen grey, and some of the clouds that swept the sky had suddenly turned into a horrendous tornado, stabbed frequently with huge bolts of red lightning. The vortex came whirling towards the group on the ground, roaring louder and louder the closer it approached, and finally halted to hover above Voldemort's head. Rather than being alarmed by this fact however, the dark lord looked up into the eye of it as if greeting an old friend, and turned his attention back to Harry, who lay on the ground with a look on his face that voiced his indifference now to the situation. Hermione knew the moment he had seen Ron and her die that he had given up the will to fight. He had no emotion left…none even for himself.

She watched, paralysed with shock, as Voldemort chose a killing curse for Harry; watched as Harry twitched in the last throes of death, and as she began to slip gradually into unconsciousness, watched, through half-blinded eyes as the dark lord opened his mouth abnormally wide, jaw magically unhinged, and began to swallow the vortex whole.

Ruby red lightning now stabbed the rest of the sky, thunder roared like a giant beast, and the dark grey clouds above began roiling and surging like a gigantic whirlpool, like the forming of a massive black hole…like the earth mourning for the darkness fallen.

As she slipped away, Hermione's last thoughts were not for herself, for Ron, even for Harry, but for what the wizarding, and muggle worlds had just lost with the death of them. The prophecy had foretold that either Harry or Voldemort would die… 'FOR NONE CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…' she'd just never dreamed that it would be Harry Potter.

Void. Emptiness. Darkness, whole and unbroken… drained of light. There would be none any longer. Light had just died.

****************

"Hermione love, wake up!" Harry frantically tapped on her cheek once, twice…and still she cried as if her heart had just been ripped away. He couldn't get through to her. "RON! Go get Madame Pomf…"

"I'm on it." Ron scrambled from his seat on the side of Hermione's bed and flew down the hallway once again to get Madame Pomfrey, but this time she'd heard the scream and was already sprinting down the hallway.

Ginny, perched on the side of Draco's bed beside Hermione's, was abruptly turned from her conversation with him and her mouth gaped open as she watched Hermione sob hysterically, while Harry tried to soothe her.

"What's wrong with her…" drawled Draco remotely as if asking about something as mundane as the weather. He sat up with a short grunt and peered around Ginny.

Harry didn't answer and continued his ministrations with Hermione, but his jaw was locked tight with anger. Hermione had just saved the bastard's life and he sounded about as concerned as a curious bystander.

"Move aside," said Madame Pomfrey briskly as she dropped to her knees beside Hermione's head.

Harry backed away beside Ron as Pomfrey took Hermione's face in her hands and with one hand, gave her cheek a hard slap.

Harry surged forward angrily, only just held back by Ron. "What in the hell do you think you're…"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around wildly, finally, hesitantly bringing her hand up to rest on her stinging cheek and blinking hard to get her bearings back. She stared up at Poppy with a hurtful expression.

Ron grunted in surprise at the nurse's actions. "Modern medicine…"

Pomfrey gazed at Hermione apologetically. "You were hysterical Ms. Granger. I'm sorry I struck you. Was it a nightmare?"

"A nightmare…" repeated Hermione, wiping away stray tears; quite the understatement. However, she imagined had Pomfrey not slapped her to bring her awake, she might have continued in the awful imagery for longer. "Yes. The worst kind."

Harry moved back to her side, sitting on the side of her bed and taking her face in his hands, tenderly wiping away remaining tears with his thumbs. He helped her to sit up and she sat back against the headboard, fighting off the dizzying spell that threatened to make her sick.

Pomfrey sighed. "I thought as much. Well…are you all right now? Do you need anything?"

"I need to get out of this infirmary," said Hermione in an annoyed tone. "I've spent way too much time in here lately and I've got too much work to make up for to be setting up residence in here like this!"

"That's our Hermione," said Ron dryly.

"Yeah," said Harry with a relieved expression. "I think she'll be all right now."

Pomfrey pursed her lips and shook her head, insisting on giving Hermione a thorough check up before "being the judge of that", as she put it.

A few minutes later, she declared Hermione 'fit as a flying fyxofloggle' and gave her permission to leave if she wished, but not before giving her one last admonishment.

"All right then Ms. Granger, you may go. I'm letting you leave because you've been through a great deal tonight and I don't want to put you through anymore. However, I want you to know I've never seen anything such as what you performed tonight. So I think soon as you're up for it, we'll need to have a chat with Headmaster Dumbledore. I don't know what this means, but I tell you the truth…I've never before witnessed healing powers such as you've shown. Never. We need to know what this means."

All eyes focused on Hermione and she nodded slowly, thinking to herself the exact same thing.

"You will help her back then, won't you two?" asked Pomfrey to Harry and Ron. She spared a glance at the infirmary clock on the wall and saw that the thermometer and syringe hands were pointing at four a.m. and flashing with a resounding (dawn in two and quarter hours).

"Great Godric's Ghost, look at the time," she exclaimed tiredly. "Well if you all can keep yourselves out of trouble long enough, we might all spare a good few hours of sleep. Do you think you five can scrub round calamity for that long?"

"I reckon we'll give it a go," smirked Ron.

Pomfrey scowled at him and planted her tired, purple-ringed eyes on Ginny. "You too, Ms. Weasley. Time you were out for a proper sleep. Tomorrow is Sunday but I gather you need to rest as well."

Ginny nodded and stood up. "Thank you Madame Pomfrey. I'll leave straight away."

Pomfrey nodded back to her and then to all of them. "Well, goodnight then." She padded back down the hallway and out of sight.

Ginny then turned coolly to Malfoy, who studied her just as coolly back. "Well…I may come visit you tomorrow…time permitting and all. No promises though."

Malfoy sat up a little more, groaning a bit painfully but managing all the same to look supremely unaffected. "None needed. Don't lump it just for me, Red. It might be brutally hard, but I'll try to muck through without your company."

Ron scowled at their verbal bantering. He'd heard Malfoy's snide comments before, but these seemed different somehow,…it seemed almost as if they were…teasing…each other. He clenched and unclenched his fists reflexively. He'd be damned if he'd let Ginny start something with the little maggot. Over his rotting body…

Harry helped Hermione to her feet with a look in his eyes that promised a great deal of conversation to be had once they reached their rooms. She nodded to him and simultaneously took hold of Ron's arm.

"What!?" He growled, turning sharply as he thought it was Harry. When he saw the frown on Hermione's face, he softened. "Sorry there, 'Mione. I'm just a little…on edge."

"Three guesses as to why," said Harry with a glance Ginny and Malfoy's way.

Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione cut him off. "Let it go, Ron. Ginny is sixteen years old and perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Besides, do you really think she's just going to bow to your will? You know her better than that."

"I just need to try harder to make her understand," said Ron hotly, glancing at the two still talking behind them. "He's dangerous, mates."

"We don't know that," said Hermione softly.

Harry looked at her incredulously. "You're not serious Hermione. What about all of his leanings toward Voldemort's views, huh? What about the fact that his father is a Death Eater? You can't seriously think he's on our side, can you?"

"As much as I hate saying it Harry," said Hermione, linking her arm with his as they moved toward the infirmary doors. "Innocent until proven guilty. And Professor Dumbledore said that, didn't he?"

"Yes he did love," said Harry with a strict look in his eyes. "And here's hoping it applies to Malfoy, because after seven years of knowing him, he's not looking too spotless."

Hermione frowned but chose not to respond and turned around to beckon toward Ron. "Ron…come with us, will you? I know it's really late but what Harry and I need to talk about concerns you too."

Ron sighed, finally conceding that Ginny was purposefully ignoring his gaze of death and moved to follow Harry and Hermione out of the infirmary, but a voice behind the three stopped them.

"Granger…"

Hermione stiffened. She had hoped to be able to sneak out without having to talk to Malfoy. She couldn't imagine for the life of her what he'd have to say to her. None of what he'd ever had to say to her was good. Most consisted of name-calling.

She felt Harry and Ron grow instantly rigid beside her but turned anyway.

"Look," she began quietly, not meeting his eyes. "It's really late. Can we just skip all of the…"

"Thank you."

Out of all the things Hermione had envisioned Malfoy saying to her in that moment, 'thank you' was definitely not one of them. She had expected some nasty remark; some inappropriate, ugly comment about being touched by a 'mudblood' or some other such nonsense. She realised that she had turned around and was moving her lips without a sound. Harry and Ron seemed to be equally as thunderstruck. Neither said a word.

Malfoy looked either slightly embarrassed or somewhat uncomfortable, but he pressed on irritatedly anyway. It was apparent by the look on Ginny's face that she hadn't expected this turn of events either.

"I mean it. I don't know what you did, but…I a..apr…appreciate it. Thank you."

That such simple words could so thoroughly stun her…Hermione's eyes widened. She began to think that maybe, just maybe, the three of them might somehow be able to get along with him after all; if they could just all come to an understanding of each other. Maybe Ron might someday be able to accept Ginny and Malfoy's relationship…whatever that was. However, Ron chose that moment to do a dumb thing.

"She didn't do it for you, ferret. She did it for Ginny." He looked irately from Ginny to Malfoy, whose hand was way to close to his sisters for his comfort.

At that moment, any semblance of civility went out the door as abruptly as it had snuck in. Hermione looked down and placed a hand over her face, then looking up at Ron.

"Ron…I can't believe you just…"

"Don't believe anyone asked for your opinion, Weasel," said Draco, now with the cool hard edge to his voice that the trio knew him by. "And on top of that, you can ruddy well kiss my arse you trumped up piece of shit."

"Come round and bend over then. Let's see what happens…" said Ron dangerously, balling up his fists.

Ginny reddened with fury and stood. "In case you've missed it Ron, he's got a broken arm and leg…and I swear to Merlin I'll never speak to you again if you…"

"Ron, let's go." Harry took a firm hold of his arm and began pulling him out of the infirmary.

"You stay away from my sister you son of a bloody Death Eater!" Ron yelled out furiously as Harry yanked him out of the door and let it swing shut with a resounding bang.

Son of a bloody Death Eater…The sound of it rang through the room for a few moments before Ginny turned toward Draco again.

"I'm really sorry, Draco. He had no right saying…"

"Maybe you should go then," said Malfoy in a glacial, dismissive voice that he'd not quite used with Ginny before.

Ginny paused, mouth still open to form another word, and looked at Draco as if he'd just formed a second head. "What?"

"Go on then," barked Draco with a hard, yet smooth edge to his voice. "Didn't think I really needed you, did you? I don't need anyone. Though I do use them for a while if the urge comes on. You didn't honestly think you and I could..be…OH. I guess you did then," he finished cruelly.

Ginny looked simply floored and felt her eyes filling, her face flushing hot.

"Well," continued Malfoy with an air of complete nonchalance, "Life's full of brutal lessons, isn't it? SO…Life lesson number one, Red: don't trust anyone. There's not a person in this world who won't let you down."

Ginny stood for a long moment, peering searchingly into his face; eyes filled with unshed tears, swallowing reflexively. Then, she did something Malfoy totally hadn't expected from her. She calmed completely down.

When she spoke, her voice was icy and even. "All right then. I'll go if it's what you want. I have to tell you though Draco…I'm highly disappointed."

With that she turned on her heels and began to march composedly toward the door, yanking up her discarded Quidditch wrist and kneepads in her wake.

Draco became even more infuriated and sat straight up in his bed, ignoring the pain in his arm and leg from the shift. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Ginny whirled around. "Now you want me to stay? Which is it? I don't have time for games."

He ignored her question. "Just what the bloody hell do you mean by 'highly disappointed'!?"

Ginny smirked, completely in control of her emotions. It felt good. "Exactly that. I just thought you were your own person, that's all."

Draco thinned his lips. "Again I ask, what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean!?"

Finally, Ginny got mad. She tossed down the Quidditch gear and strode over to his bed, pointing a shaking finger in his face and effectively stunning him into silence. "If I had my wand with me I'd put a bat bogey hex on you that would make the one I gave you two years ago look like frickin CHILD'S PLAY," she hissed furiously. She felt her blood boiling, but visibly tried to calm herself. She finished her sentence with a cool sort of detachment of which Malfoy had only thought himself capable.

"I'm surprised at you. Here I thought you were always so in control, so self assured, so confident in yourself and who you are…but one word from my brother makes you doubt yourself so much you'll push away the only real friend you've ever had."

"Don't act as if you really know me, Red," snarled Draco angrily with narrowed eyes. "No one does!"

"WHOSE FAULT IS THAT!?" roared Ginny furiously, close to his face. "If there's anything I DO know, it's this…you can be whoever you want to be! You can turn into whatever type of person you choose! You don't have to follow your father! You don't have to act a bastard because it's expected of you! You don't have to be a damn PRICK just because my brother and his friends think you are! And you don't have to push me away because your scared I'll agree with them…because like you…I have a mind of my own! And right now, my mind is telling me to get the hell out of this room!"

With every word, Draco felt his icy interior thawing. She believed in him. She actually believed there was more to him than what met the eye; that he might in fact have the decency in him to turn out differently. And along with the awesome feeling of letting his guard begin to slip for once, he found a furious, fiery, completely in control Ginny to be a massive turn-on. He would finally admit to himself much later that the combining of those two emotions would prove to be the downfall of the usual Draco Malfoy.

With a look that told him that she'd had enough of him and that he could most certainly go to hell, Ginny turned to leave, but Malfoy caught her hand and pulled her down to the bed beside him.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're…"

However, Ginny's words were muffled and ultimately cut off by the hand that suddenly gripped behind her head and yanked her into a hard, aroused, heated, and most desperately passionate kiss. A kiss so full of desire, so full of a hot powerful, drumming need; craving, pent up emotion that had just begun to spill out, that it left her breathless and trembling; weak because of it. For a moment, she was stunned breathless; then all of her anger surged upward and she replaced it with an appetite for him that was just as intense.

How dare you..push me away, she thought. She returned the bruising pressure; wrapping one arm around his good side…mouths pressing together hungrily, yearning, succumbing to the downward rhythms his mouth was pushing her with towards the bed.

Draco increased the urgency, sliding his tongue into her mouth, filling her, tasting her, needing her…YES. Needing her… Don't think you know me…

Don't think you can control me. N..no one c..controls me… Ginny felt a fluttering heat just under her ribcage, one that travelled deliciously downward…

Draco laid her back and rolled halfway on top of her, keeping the pressure firm but moving slowly owing to the pain in his newly mended arm and leg… I can... make up my own damn mind... He felt his precious self-control, the one thing he truly owned in and of himself beginning to slip away. He began to mould his body to hers… pressing, rhythmic, demanding, firmness meeting curves…

His blonde hair, normally smoothed back, had now begun falling wildly over his forehead. The natural freedom of it, at least to Ginny, somehow served to mimic something inward. A side he kept hidden from the rest of the world…the side that was passionate; the side that felt.

She'd been kissed before, but never, never like this. She'd never known anything like him; so smooth, so sensual, so blindly knowledgeable, demanding, intensely bent on ownership. His body moved over hers so slowly, so deliberately slowly… N..no one tells me wh..what to do... I can make up my own damn mi...my...mygod...

Draco felt himself hardening, felt Ginny beneath him whimpering into his mouth her loss of control, and felt his own fears releasing… I can make up my own damn mind…she's right.

His lips finally lifted from hers, faces close, breathless, flushed, overwhelmed with a long denied want and pent up frustration. He felt himself throbbing with need and knew by the movements she made underneath him, with eyes half-lidded and glazed with passion that she was too. This meant, if he truly cared about her, and he did (damn her), that he would need to stop this right now. But gods, it felt too good to just let go…

Ginny pushed him upward with a reserve of control she wasn't sure she had and wriggled out from underneath him, causing a groan from him that could only be described as primal. She smiled shakily and sat up, pausing for a moment to control her laboured breathing before speaking.

"There now. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Her tone belied the fact that she felt totally powerless now where he was concerned, but it didn't hurt to have him think otherwise.

The smouldering look Draco gave her was enough to make Ginny squirm. He licked his lips. "Damn you, Red."

Ginny smirked. "I think you just lost control."

"I could say the same," countered Malfoy, crossing his unsplinted arm over the other, covering his bare chest. "And Malfoy's don't lose control. We just put it aside when the mood suits us…and it definitely suited me."

Ginny stood and began smoothing down her long hair. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

She began to walk toward the door, swinging her hips more than needed, until a final soft word from Malfoy stopped her.

"Ginny…"

That low, sensual tone…smooth as silk. The word travelled across the room and moved over her like a caress. She could almost feel his eyes raking her…those grey, smoky, seductive eyes… She shuddered and closed her own for a moment before turning around.

"Yes?"

Malfoy smiled then, a slow lecherous upcurving of his lips and a downward cock of his head that made her tremble. "Come visit me tomorrow."

After reminding herself to take a breath, she smiled back at him. "I think that's the first time you've ever called me Ginny."

"It's your name, isn't it?"

She decided to return the seductive look. "Call me Red."

With that, Ginny left the room feeling light and airy, buzzing full of something she couldn't define, and leaving Malfoy slumped in his bed feeling the exact same things.

*******************************************

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat themselves in front of the warm fire glowing orange and yellow in the head boy and girl's common room. Harry had fetched a quilt for Hermione and had wrapped it snugly around her before joining her on the couch, with Ron on her other side. The quiet in the room after the day's crazy events was certainly welcome, and Hermione sat for a few moments with her favourite boys content to just soak up the silence. She and Harry didn't mind letting Ron share in their little hideaway every now and then, though with his relationship with Lavender blossoming the way it seemed to be, he rarely interrupted them anyway. The three had almost settled into a routine. Trio time was done after school…a couple of hours of fun and relaxation followed by a few hours of studying. Then Harry and Hermione would retreat by themselves, leaving Ron to spend the rest of the evening with Lavender. Sometimes though, it was nice to just have the three of them together in Harry and Hermione's private common room; to pretend they were all eleven again and naïve to the world's problems. Ron was always welcome. However, with what they had to discuss tonight, childishness, peace, and quiet would have to wait.

Harry was the first to break the silence. "So…do you want to tell us what that was back there?"

Hermione looked rueful and drew the quilt tightly about her, sidling closer to Harry's side. "Which part? There were so many."

"The part where your glowing hand was stuck to Malfoy's chest," said Ron, slumped on the couch and keeping his eyes planted on the dancing flames before him. "The part where he was suddenly all right when only seconds before he was ready to kick it… and let's not forget the part where you fell out afterward…"

"I get your point," said Hermione drolly.

Harry sighed and put his arm around her, drawing her closer to him. "Do you know what happened, love?"

"No, I really don't," said Hermione a little shakily. "One moment I was completely overwhelmed what with Ginny hysterical and begging me to help…I put my hand on Malfoy's chest to see if I could feel him breathing. I remember thinking things to myself…just begging him not to die, willing the bleeding to stop; willing him to take a breath, and then…my hand was joined to his chest. I felt this…this warmth spread over me; this energy that I've never experienced before. I remember feeling it flow from me into him, and when I could finally lift my hand… I was so weak I could barely move."

"…And the little rotter was all right again," said Ron bitterly.

"Don't sound so overjoyed," said Hermione a little coldly. "However we may think on him Ron, he's still a person. He doesn't deserve to die."

Ron shook his head in frustration. "I don't want him to die for Merlin's sake. I just want him to naff off Ginny."

"Once again Ron," said Harry, shifting a bit in his seat, "Ginny is sixteen. She can make up her own mind. Odds are she will… In any case, we've more important things to think on now."

"More important that my sister arsing about with Lucius Malfoy's son!?" asked Ron a little hotly, sitting up and peering around Hermione at Harry.

"Yeah Ron, for the moment," said Harry with hard sarcasm in his voice.

Hermione spoke up to intercede before the two began arguing. "I've something else to tell you two. About the dream I had."

"The nightmare?" said Ron.

Hermione nodded and tore her eyes away from the fire to look from Ron to Harry. "It was the worst I've ever had. The worst I hope to ever have."

" 'Mione," said Harry gently, "I've had nightmares. That's all they are; just nightmares."

"This was different," said Hermione with conviction in her voice. "There was something almost…futuristic about it; like a warning."

Ron smirked at her. "Thinking of nicking Trelawny's position? Hermione Granger…Seer extraordinaire."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Ronald Weasley…Potions expert. Professor Snape's right hand man."

Ron frowned at her. "Hermione…that was below the belt."

She rolled her eyes and ignored the comment. "When I blacked out, I felt as if I fell instantly into the dream. It was as if no time passed where I just slept. I closed my eyes in the infirmary…and I opened them in the Kavan Forest; back in the dark little clearing where Voldemort held me captive year last. His cabin looked as if it had been rebuilt and destroyed again. Voldemort was there, and Harry…he had his body back."

Hermione suddenly noticed that both Harry and Ron had stiffened, and Harry in particular stared intensely at her as if his very life now hung on her words. She had expected them to take her dream seriously, but the fervour with which they were listening began to make her uneasy.

"What is it…?" she asked warily.

"Keep on," said Harry. Ron merely nodded at her.

She glanced suspiciously at them and continued. "We were all three there. It was as if I was watching from the outside looking on. I couldn't move, speak, or do anything to change what was happening. We were immobilised; laid out in a strange sort of pattern I can't remember. Voldemort was talking to Death Eaters and Dementors…telling them they would be rewarded as promised. Then…" Hermione felt her throat tighten and closed her eyes to ward off the tears that threatened to spill out again. The thought of the horrendous things she had witnessed, although it had only been a nightmare, was enough to make her begin to tremble. Ron took her hand, and Harry squeezed her tighter to him.

"Then," she managed to choke out, "Voldemort decided it was time for us to die. Lucius Malfoy killed you, Ron…another did me. The sky had begun to change, to grow darker and more threatening the moment the first of us died. Voldemort decided he wanted the honour of killing you himself." She glanced up at Harry. An ominous frown was stamped on his face and he sat deathly still, his eyes planted on the fire in the hearth, but staring through the flames.

"Right before you died," she continued a bit tremulously, "it was darkest of all. A horrible tornado swirled across the sky and came to rest right above Voldemort. When…wh..when he…killed you…after you died…he swallowed it whole. I just remember the look on his face. He opened his mouth so wide." Hermione shuddered violently. "It was the maddest look I've ever seen."

Harry looked deeply troubled now, and Ron, Ron looked as if he was about to pass out himself. Hermione looked from one to the other and a fear began to spread throughout her body as if her blood were rushing it to every part at once.

"What is it!?" She finally cried out. "What has you two so jarred!? Harry, you said yourself it was only a nightmare…"

"I've had that dream Hermione," said Ron quietly. "The very same."

Harry jerked round to look at him.

"What!?" Hermione felt as if a swarm of bees had just been set loose inside her body. "No Ron. That can't be. Maybe it was just similar to…"

"No," said Ron firmly, "it was that exact dream. I remember watching us lay there. I couldn't move…I couldn't speak. I remember giving our good-byes. Harry said I was just like his brother. He said he wished he had more time with you. He told you he loved you."

Hermione sucked in a breath that sounded more like a sob, her eyes wide and unbelieving. "Yes!"

Ron lowered his eyebrows, his face a mixture of fear and confusion. "I don't know what this means…"

"Harry?" Hermione turned to Harry, who hadn't yet spoken.

He turned troubled eyes to stare deeply into hers, and then at Ron. "I don't know what it means either…because I had it first. The same bloody dream this summer at the Dursley's."

For a moment, Hermione felt as if she were floating back in a fantasy world again, as if she might wake up the next moment and everything would turn normal once more. Nevertheless, she knew by the looks on Harry and Ron's faces that what they were discussing was all too real.

Suddenly Ron looked up to Harry as if he'd just had an epiphany. "Harry! Do you remember that day in Divination? When Trelawny turned rigid and started spouting bosh on how the dark one was coming? Something about…' the forces of light will scarce stand against it…the triangle must come together…' "

"Yes," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I remember what you told me…' she also said the circle must be made whole…he must learn what he was born to perform…he must train…' I…I think the pattern we were laid in the dream now I think on it…it was a triangle!"

Harry nodded then and spoke up. " 'Only the covenant of the triangle will stop them; only the joining of the circle will make him strong enough.' I still don't get the circle…She said some Latin phrases too, though I don't remember them."

Hermione sighed loudly. "Honestly Harry. This could be one of the most important prophecies we've heard and you don't think to write everything down once you've heard it? For the love of Godric…" She got up a little huffily and strode into her room.

Harry looked exasperated at Ron and shrugged. "What? How should I know when the old bag's had an actual 'premonition'!? Most of them are rot anyway."

"Don't ask me mate," said Ron a little chagrined. "I never wrote any of it down."

Hermione exited her room soon after with a small rolled up piece of parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle, and made her way over to she and Harry's small library in the back of the common room, plucking three thick, dusty volumes from off of the shelves.

"I wrote down the whole of the prophecy in case we needed to think on it again," said Hermione officiously, walking round the couch and plopping down beside them. She dropped the books on the couch and unrolled the parchment, glancing over it reproachfully at Harry and Ron. "Let's see…" She mumbled the words she read under her breath until she found what she was looking for. "Here it is! Sodalis tria…Evalesco Leo… She repeats it a few times…"

"Well that's all gash to me," said Ron, flopping back against the couch again. "What's it mean then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking frustrated with them again. "Mingin' Merlin…are you two ever going to study up your Latin? Don't you ever think on the definition of the words we use in our spells?"

"Not often," said Harry flippantly. "I just worry they get the job done."

"Right on," said Ron lazily.

Hermione huffed with displeasure but smiled anyway. "Well fortunately for you two, I do." She held up three copies of Demonstrative Latin Lingo, Volumes D-F, J-L, and S-U, and instantly brightened.

"Isn't it wonderful!?" she beamed happily. "I've been scanning our little library here in my spare time, and see what they've given us!? An entire set of Latin dictionaries! Harry, I'll wager you need quite a bit of dusting up with your Latin. We can study on it later, starting with Volume one, A-C. I'll quiz you!"

Harry looked at her shining face and smiled weakly. "Can't wait."

Ron snuck Harry a look of pity while Hermione scanned the volume excitedly. Finally, she came up for air.

"Here's the first word," she said a little breathlessly. "Sodalis. It means…society or fellowship."

Harry peered over her shoulder but she snapped the book closed and quickly charmed her quill to begin writing. The quill jumped upright, dipped itself into the inkbottle and wrote the word 'society' on the parchment in Hermione's tidy scrawl.

"Now then," said Hermione business-like as she picked up the second volume, "Next word."

She flipped through S-U until she found what she was looking for. "Tria…three. Should've known that one." The quill scratched down the word. The next two words were equally as simple to find. Evalesco ended up meaning 'power', and Leo, obviously, 'lion'.

When it was finished, the quill threw itself down flat on the table and Hermione snatched up the parchment.

"Sodalis tria…The 'fellowship of three', I suppose. And Evalesco Leo… 'power of the lion'."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Well…that says it all then doesn't it? It's obvious we're the fellowship of three, you Ron and I; you two are closest to me. And 'the power of the lion'…we're all in Gryffindor."

"I wonder," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Are we to make some sort of covenant with each other, then? Some sort of magical pact? According to what Trelawny said…"

However, Ron, now musing thoughtfully with his chin in his hand, spoke up with a quiet voice full of a wisdom he felt he couldn't define. "I think we've done it already."

Harry frowned at him. "Huh? What're you on about? Some magical coming together? I don't think so…"

"I don't think it's meant to be magical Harry," said Ron giving the two of them a piercing look. "Do you remember when the three of us became real friends? Not just you and I Harry, but all three of us."

Harry took a moment to think back. The three of them had been so close for so long that it seemed he had a lifetime's worth of memories to sort through. However, the answer came to him quickly.

"Our first year…that day with the troll. You remember love?" Harry smirked and turned to Hermione who sat looking at the two of them with a wistful smile on her face.

"Well…Very well." she said quietly. "When I lied to Professor McGonnagol…I'd never thought I would lie to a teacher. I'd never thought I would ever break a rule! But you two were worth it…worth any trouble I might have got into. I think we all knew right then we'd do anything for each other."

"Still do," smiled Ron. "And that day…that was the day we made the covenant. It may have been without words, but it was a pact all the same. I think we all knew it on some level. Maybe it just took us this long to understand it. Maybe that's what the prophecy is about…just realising it."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ron knew he had hit on it. Something amazing began to happen; something static and energised… The warm air in the room suddenly hummed thick with power. Needle thin strands of light; blue and purple and green came from nowhere and buzzed above their heads, making the hair on their heads stand; lighting the room with a swirling kaleidoscope of colour…an electrical storm so tangible that they felt they could reach out and touch the discharge on their fingertips. Power blew around them like a warm breeze, leaving a metallic taste on their tongues and covering their skin in gooseflesh.

Hermione hugged herself, feeling as if the sudden eerie display should have frightened her, frightened them all, and yet, she felt calm, peaceful somehow. It was as if she'd always known there was something more; something just out of reach. Perhaps it had just not yet been the time…

The electricity stopped its movement and began dying away, each strand converging together to form a bright golden colour and finally cracking out of existence. The room was instantly shadowed and warmed only by the fire once again.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat staring at each other for some time; eyes wide with surprise but calm, hearts beating fast, but with the strange knowledge that what had just happened wasn't as foreign to them as they would have thought. Nothing about themselves had changed, just the knowledge that their friendship, their supposed chance meeting and consequential friendship, wasn't as random as they had thought. In fact, it had never been haphazard at all…

************************************

As it happened, neither Harry nor Hermione got much sleep, having only just dropped exhausted onto Harry's bed by six o'clock the next morning. Dawn seemed to rise extra early, but Harry had set his drapes to stay closed until he opened them himself, so he ended up waking on his own with Hermione still nestled closely into him sleeping soundly at around ten Sunday morning.

Oddly enough, his first thoughts when waking earlier than he had intended was that he wanted to talk to his father. Talking with Sirius was damned near impossible as Dumbledore had warned him to use the floo only when absolutely necessary to keep his fugitive godfather safe. In addition, although he knew he could share anything with Sirius, somehow Harry wanted to share what had happened last night with his father. Somehow, for some reason, he had woken earlier than he had intended with the immediate feeling that he was now ready to have a real heart-to-heart with James.

He felt, without understanding why, that the current state of his life was drawing to a close, to some sort of ending. He hoped that meant that a new beginning was waiting in the wings, though he wasn't so naïve as to think that he was invincible. The truth was that when he finally did meet Voldemort again, if he really was as powerful now as the shared dream had lead them to believe, he might not make it out alive. He wanted all loose ends tied up if that was to be the case. He wanted the chance to clear everything up with his father …and to know as much about he and his mother as he possibly could.

Harry eased himself onto his elbow carefully so as not to disturb Hermione and gazed tenderly down at her sleeping form. Gods, what he would give to be able to promise her that everything was going to turn out all right. To promise that they would all make it through the last battle with Voldemort unscathed; that they would be able to grow old together, he with her, and Ron with whomever he chose.

He wanted to be able to tell her that he could see them all together some ten years from now, sitting on the front porch of one of their houses, laughing with each other and watching their children romping playfully together in the grass.

Not for the first time, Harry smiled ruefully at the fact that if he were a normal boy of seventeen, the thought of marriage and a yard full of children would be the last thing on his mind. However, Harry was far from a normal boy of seventeen. He had already lived through a lifetime's worth of sorrow and had had to endure far more than his share of worry. He knew he'd had to grow up a lot sooner than most others do. He didn't however feel sorry for himself; it was just fact. Such was the life of the boy-who-lived. He looked down at Hermione's curled up form once more and gently smoothed her hair down. He'd often thought to himself that a more appropriate title would have been the boy-who-survived. After all, he hadn't really had the chance to live yet, had he? Surely, there was more to life than mere survival.

Harry sighed and put away his thoughts, carefully extracting his arm from under Hermione's waist and easing slowly out of the bed. After pulling on a black jumper and a worn pair of jeans and trainers, he pulled the golden quilt up to Hermione's shoulders, planted a soft kiss on her cheek and headed out of his portrait door.

After failing to find his father in his classroom, the great hall, the teacher's lounge, or his quarters, Harry had a good idea of where he might search next.

To his surprise, the halls leading outside were almost empty, but once he opened the great doors to the school and blinked his way into the bright chilly autumn morning, he understood why. Hogwarts grounds were littered with students; some lying together on blankets, studying and reading, others playing Hell or Hex, (Dean had obviously got the raw end of the deal as he was currently being forced to plant a kiss on a raging, struggling grindylow. Seamus and Neville were nearby howling with laughter).

Some headed towards the Quidditch pitch, brooms in hand, and others simply lounged peacefully near the lake where the giant squid was out in full force, waving to the students from afar as it was too cold for anyone to swim. It was a beautiful day to be outdoors, but as Harry crunched his way across the multicoloured grounds littered with fallen leaves towards Hagrid's hut where, a plume of smoke was rising lazily from the chimney, it was almost impossible for him to appreciate it. He marvelled as he passed fellow students smiling and laughing together, playing or preparing for tests, that there were still people in the world who worried about things as mundane as schoolwork or the next Quidditch match, or anything of such small importance for that matter. Voldemort was back with a vengeance, strange things were happening with he and his friends, he had, at best, a floundering relationship with his father whom he had thought dead for the last sixteen years, and had only the world's nastiest relatives to fall back on in the way of family.

Nevertheless, Harry stopped then and mentally raged at himself. He had Sirius, Ron, who was like a brother to him, not to mention the entire Weasley household, and Hermione…beautiful, amazing Hermione. Hermione who truly loved the real him and not just his image; Hermione who held him grounded; Hermione who had always believed in him to a fault; Hermione who kept his faith; Hermione, who was to him like water to a man trapped in the driest desert. Harry smiled to himself. He had nothing to regret. He was the richest man alive.

The door to Hagrid's hut was open, probably to let in fresh air. As Harry approached, sure enough, there sat Lupin, sharing a pot of tea with Hagrid, and looking strangely dwarfed by the giant's huge table and chairs. Harry smiled again as he heard Hagrid's roaring laughter resounding off the walls of his large hut, and at Lupin, grasping a huge teacup and grinning madly.

"Well, 'Arry!" boomed Hagrid, catching sight of Harry as he approached with hands crammed in the pockets of his jeans. " I was wunnerin' when you'd come ter visit me agin! Yer father n' me were jes' swappin' stories 'bout our days back at school, there. Sounds ter me like we was roun' a 'bout one an' th' same as far as trouble makin' went!"

Harry smiled. "I can only imagine." He entered the hut, noting the look of pleasant surprise Lupin gave him as he approached.

"I'll wager you can do more'n imagine, there." Said Hagrid, giving him a keen glance over his teacup. "You an' yours 'ave 'ad your share then, 'aven't ya?"

Harry grinned passively back at him. "Well, I reckon it's more like trouble finds us than the other way round."

"That's how Sirius and I always saw it." said Lupin. "Hello son."

"Professor," Harry nodded back.

Hagrid caught that Harry had not called Lupin 'dad' and frowned very slightly. However, all Harry noticed was that Hagrid had called Lupin his 'father' and that Lupin had called him son in front of the giant.

"I guess you've been updated then," said Harry to Hagrid as he leaned tiredly against the doorjamb.

Hagrid faltered for a moment. It wouldn't do Harry or his dad's relationship any good for Harry to know how Hagrid had raged at James for the better part of an hour when he'd found who he really was, about how his son had grown up without him. James had taken it though as if he'd deserved every condemning word, and had thanked Hagrid for loving Harry as much as he did. He'd explained his actions to the giant as well as he could, and Hagrid, after understanding him a bit more, had decided to try to get to know the elder Potter. They'd been spending bits of time together ever since.

Hagrid couldn't find proper words to answer Harry with. He spoke quietly. "I 'ave."

"I felt it would be easier that way," said Lupin straightforwardly. "I've only told the other professors though. I hope you're alright on that, Harry."

"Might as well," said Harry more easily than he felt. "It would have got out sooner or later. Dumbledore and McGonnagol already knew…how did the rest take it?"

Lupin sighed. "Well, they were surprised to say the least. Snape was in a right state. He hated me enough as Remus Lupin, but at least Remus was a bit sympathetic to him in school. I on the other hand…Well, suffice it to say I had a bit of an ego problem back then."

Harry paused and thought it best not to reveal to his father that he'd seen some of his behaviour in Snape's pensieve his fifth year. Besides, all else could wait for the moment.

"Sit an' 'ave a cuppa with us, then," said Hagrid beginning to get up to refill his huge kettle.

Harry held up a hand. "Could I come back later for it, Hagrid? I was hoping to have a talk with the professor if you don't mind."

Lupin turned to look at Harry once again, clear surprise etched in his features, but he was quick to take Harry up on the offer. Hagrid had begun to smile. It was obvious he thought some sort of breakthrough was on hand.

"Of course," said Lupin. He stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. "Hagrid, thank you for the tea. We'll chat again sometime soon."

They said their good-byes to the giant and Lupin followed Harry out into the crisp late morning. After they'd got a bit farther from the hut, Lupin spoke up.

"Where would you like to go?"

"I thought we could stroll round the lake if it suits you," said Harry.

"Fine," said Lupin. He'd felt this time would come eventually. He wasn't so naïve as to think that the entire conversation was going to go as pleasantly as it had so far. After all, Harry surely had a lot of bitterness and anger, and many unanswered questions. But it would be communication nonetheless, and a start to something more. Openness and honesty usually broke down the barriers, no matter how painful the truth turned out to be.

The late morning sun shone on the top of the massive lake like a web of diamonds, but it was still not enough to warm the autumn chill in the air. The giant squid had disappeared back into the dark depths of the water which was still surrounded by clumps of students here and there, most noticeably a large gaggle of first years playing "Where's the Wizard?", a game Harry noticed was strikingly similar to the Muggle version of "Hide and Seek".

They had to walk for quite a while to find an area not yet populated, and Harry and his father stayed in relative silence until they were finally able to come upon a suitable area with no one else around. Harry slowed to a halt, nervously running his fingers through his hair at the same time as Lupin did; though neither was paying enough attention to notice.

Harry began inarticulately, giving away just how nervous he really was. "Er…I…we haven't really had the chance to talk as of yet…Been quite busy you know, what with Head Boy duties and N.E.W.T.s coming up; not to mention all the goings on with Voldemort." Harry paused, with his hands still crammed around his robes in the pockets of his jeans. He shifted from one foot to the other and finally raised his eyes to squint at his father through the rays of the bright sun. "But there's other more important things I wanted to talk with you about first."

Lupin peered at him. More important? He had thought he'd been keeping quite a close eye on Harry and his companions as of late. How was it that he had missed something?

"Go on."

Harry nodded. "I'm sure you heard about what happened with Malfoy…"

" 'Course I did Harry, I was there," said Lupin, "Every teacher was."

"Not after," finished Harry abruptly. "Something happened in the infirmary; something with Hermione. I…I wondered if you might have any thoughts on it."

Lupin frowned in concern. "Is she all right, then?"

"She's fine now," said Harry, "though when we were all in the infirmary I wasn't so sure."

"Hang on," said Lupin with confusion. "I thought it was Malfoy who'd had the injury…"

"It was…and he would've straight died if it hadn't been for Hermione. That's what I wanted to talk to you about; among other things."

Lupin gestured for him to continue, and Harry related the whole of the story to him, making sure to give him every detail of the healing Hermione had performed. After finishing with it, he went on to tell him of the strange lighting that had gone on in his and Hermione's common room when they, along with Ron had gone back over the 'prophesy' Trelawny had spoken. When he was done, Lupin stood staring at him for some time before speaking.

"Well…Hermione is a special witch then, isn't she?" he began slowly, choosing to take one subject at a time. "That is quite an uncommon gift Harry. I have to say I've never heard of a healer able to heal with just a simple touch. Most, even the best ones have to use their wands."

Harry nodded. "She almost seemed as if she was willing Malfoy to heal. She was in some sort of trance and a purplish light glowed from her hand and travelled all through his body. When he woke up, the only injuries he had left were the broken bones."

Lupin thought hard on this for a moment and then spoke again. "Do you remember what she was saying?"

"A lot of things," said Harry, shifting his weight once again. "She kept telling him to breathe, telling the bleeding to stop, telling it to disappear…"

"Did she ever once mention the broken bones?" asked Lupin.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Breathing seemed to be the foremost thing on the agenda at the time."

Lupin replied drolly, matching Harry's sarcasm. "I'm sure. What I'm getting at is, only the things she thought on healed. Only the ones she was willing so hard to cure, actually cured. You understand?"

"You're saying she actually did will him better?" asked Harry incredulously. "That Hermione has some sort of extraordinary healing power?"

"I'm saying it certainly wasn't some random event, Harry," said Lupin. "Think about it. She willed the bleeding to stop; willed the lungs to heal; willed him to breathe, and all of it happened. Of course she didn't mention the bones because she was thinking so intently on what was most pressing at the time. And they weren't healed, were they?"

He paused to let his words sink in. "I think it's safe to assume Hermione has a very special gift, Harry."

Harry thought for a few moments before speaking. "Maybe you're right."

Lupin spoke up again. "What colour did you say the light was coming from her hand?"

Harry lowered his eyebrows. "Purple. But what does that have to do with…"

"And I'm sure you've seen her perform magic countless times with her wand, haven't you?"

" 'Course I have."

"And you recall the colours that came from it?"

Harry paused and his eyes widened. "Purple. It's always been purple."

Lupin nodded. "As wizards, our magic comes from inside of us and through our wands, not the other way round, Harry. Our wands enable us to perform focused magic. After all, what good is unfocused magic? Not very useful. Most wizards and witches need their wands.

However, every now and then, though very rarely, there are those born with power enough to focus their magic without the need of a wand, as you are proving to be. As for Hermione, you mentioned even Pomfrey with her wand, couldn't heal the damage done to Draco's lungs. I reckon only time will tell whether Hermione is able to use unfocused magic for everything, or just healing. After all, some witches and wizards are just more adept at certain things. This may be the case with her."

Harry was taken aback, and then realised something important. "You know, Ron seems to be growing more powerful as well, at least where defensive spells are concerned."

"I've noticed," replied Lupin thoughtfully. "And his wands colour…"

"Green," said Harry at once. But then the truth of it struck him like a lightning bolt. His voice wavered with shock. "Mine has always been blue except for the first time I got my wand from Mr. Ollivander. Then it shot out red and gold…"

"Perhaps it could simply recognise the heir of Gryffindor, strange as that seems," said Lupin. "If I recall correctly, my wand did the same thing when I first got it, and only that one time. After that it's always been blue."

"Blue, purple and green," said Harry loudly, his heart beating wildly. "Those were the same colours that flew around the common room last night. When they came together they formed gold and then disappeared. Merlin's beard…there was a reason for it. What it was, I'm not sure, but I've a feeling we'll be finding out."

Lupin, full of the same kind of excitement on hearing Harry's words, nodded. "I imagine you will." He paused for a moment to choose his next words carefully and swallowed hard, knowing they were to be painful.

"Harry, your mother and I always knew you were special. However, it was only the night…the night your mother and Remus died that I finally realised just how much; and it wasn't just because you'd survived.

That night, Dumbledore told me of the prediction Trelawny had made. He told me that…that either you or he would eventually die. 'For none shall live while the other survives'… Harry, I'd just lost your mother. And while I didn't think in that moment that it was possible to want to die even more, I knew then that I had to give you up. We'd already known that Voldemort would be after you simply because of the Gryffindor-Slytherin bloodlines. But now, there was even more reason for him to want to kill you. The only way to keep you safe was to give up my rights to you…to hide you for as long as possible."

Harry felt himself tensing; felt the familiar resentment and anger building inside. He hadn't been sure until that moment that he'd wanted to bring this particular subject up today, but his father had just taken the matter into his own hands.

"I guess you found that easy enough, didn't you?" The voice that came out was cold, distant, and utterly unfamiliar to Harry's own ears.

Lupin's gaze shot up at once, a look of pure disbelief on his face. "Harry…giving you up nearly killed me. You can't imagine what life has been like without you…without my son…"

"And you can't imagine what my life has been like!" yelled Harry at once. All the anger, all of the bitterness and abuse and misuse of his entire life seemed to be simmering dangerously just below the surface. It had risen up in him so fast that Harry's own reaction almost startled him. He began to pace furiously.

"I reckon it was easier for you to just hand me over…to be able to rid yourself of whatever reminded you of her, was that it!? Or was it the fact that you had a baby to raise on your own now? Was I just more than you wanted to take on at that point!?"

"No Harry! Never! I…"

"Or, maybe you haven't thought on the fact that had it not been for your actions that night, neither she nor Remus Lupin might be dead today? Has it occurred to you, dad," spat out Harry sarcastically, "to wonder how your decision to leave me with the Dursley's for the past sixteen years has gone over? Do you know what MY life has been like without YOU?"

James swallowed, doing his best to take his son's anger toward him in stride. He was wholly entitled to it, and yet, Voldemort had stolen both of their lives that night, not just Harry's. "I know you haven't had it easy with them, Harry. Please believe me when I say that Dumbledore and I thought we were doing what was best for you, and only you, at the time. I didn't know Vernon and Petunia would treat you so badly…"

"And the way they've always felt about magic gave you absolutely no indicator, was that it!?" Harry yelled venomously.

"Harry, Petunia is a squib," said Lupin. He missed seeing Harry's eyebrows disappear into his hairline at the revelation as he continued. "I never knew Vernon that well, but back when I knew Petunia, she seemed to love Lily very much. I knew she always resented her somewhat for her skills, but I never imagined in a million years that coming from the same family, one who owned the same skills, that she would treat you badly, or allow Vernon to do so…"

"AUNT PETUNIA!?" exclaimed Harry. "A SQUIB!?" It would certainly explain quite a bit of the resentment she seemed to hold toward his mother. He'd always thought that if Petunia really thought of magic as 'unnatural and freakish' as both she and Vernon put it, that there would be no reason for the look of utter jealously and bitterness on her face when she mentioned Lily. It probably didn't help his own case much either when Petunia saw how much magic Harry possessed. He could only imagine that Uncle Vernon knew nothing about Petunia's being a squib else he probably would've never married her. She'd probably allowed him to poison her mind even further against magical folk when they had married. It all made sense now. It took him a few moments to process the information before turning his rage back onto his father.

"Well," continued Harry, with the same biting sarcasm in his hard voice, "if you'd been around to check on me, even once, you might've known that my life with them was and is a living HELL. The only reason it's even bearable now is because I've finally gotten big enough to defend myself somewhat."

"Harry…I'm so sorry. I never knew…"

"Of course you never. I spent the first eleven years of my life living in a cupboard under their staircase, did you know that!? I only got to eat whatever was left over from dinner after they and the ORCA they call their 'son', finished cramming themselves full! Sometimes, when it was really bad, mind you, I got nothing but scraps of bread to eat for days on end! But that was all right, because at least when I was finally moved into Dudley's spare room, I got to amuse myself watching him play with his roomful of toys. At least I had my imagination, didn't I!? I could always imagine what it would be like to actually go outside and play rather than cleaning and cooking all day! I could imagine what it might be like to put on clothes that actually fit me rather than Dudley's mucky cast-offs. I could imagine what it might be like to go out and make friends or to even be normal for shitsake…hell, sometimes if the situation was just right, I was able to imagine what it might be like to have someone actually love me. You see, before Hermione, and Ron and the Weasleys, I had no clue. And now that I have, I don't know how I could ever think you felt that for me."

The last sentence, spoken with such a biting hurt tone, cut James to the bone. He swallowed down the massive lump that had risen to his throat at Harry's revelation of his life with the Dursley's. But he had to try to make him understand.

"Harry…you'll never know how much I hate myself for all the bad things that've happened to you. I hate myself for not being there for you. I even used to hate myself for not being able to stop the inevitable. But the truth is, if I hadn't been the one out that night seeking Peter Pettigrew, even I wouldn't be alive, as Dumbledore put it. I couldn't have stopped it anymore than I could stop a storm from coming.

Afterward, having to give you up, I felt I would rather die anyway, but Dumbledore finally helped me realise that someday, I would be able to see you again; that at least, you still had your father. To keep you would've been one of the most selfish things I could've done, Harry…not just for me but for the whole of the wizarding world. I wanted to with all of my heart, but you needed to be kept safe; someplace Voldemort would never think to look for you; someplace where you could at least partly grow up without the stigma of 'the boy who lived'. If you had stayed with me, or even in the wizarding world, it would've been like painting a target on your head. I know I wasn't there for you growing up…"

"No one was," said Harry raggedly.

"But you have to believe that what was done was done to keep you alive. It was the lesser of two evils, Harry. If I'd had a choice, even a small one, I would have never, ever given you up." Lupin swallowed hard again to keep himself under control. To let even one tear fall in Harry's presence was unthinkable. He had no right to it.

Harry's anger seemed to be dissipating with every word from his father, though he held onto it with all of his might. Sometimes, he just wanted to lash out, to be able to hurt someone as much as he had been hurt. He knew he sounded like a bad person, but he was only human. He wanted someone else to understand how isolated and unwanted he'd felt his whole life. He wanted someone else to swallow that type of pain and be able to look up and back at him with new eyes; ones that understood. He didn't realise that at that moment, his father could read all of this in his face.

"I want you to know something," Lupin began again, hoarse with the effort to keep the tears at bay. "I know you never felt love growing up, but gods, I swear to you, there never was a child more loved by his parents than you were by Lily and I. We wanted you, Harry. We tried and tried for you. Lily was so happy when she found out she was pregnant with you. She gave her life for you. I believe she would do it again in a second if given the chance. She knew what she was doing, Harry…and the night I gave you up, so did I."

James Potter stood before him a broken man, a man who's wife had given her life for her son, but in a way, had gotten the easier part of the deal. Because while she had peace, he had to live every day with the pain of it; and with the loneliness and agony that came with having to give up his only son. He'd been just as alone as Harry had been, and being a werewolf, he'd been equally ostracised as well. All this time, Harry had never considered that James might actually feel half of what he did, and yet, it turned out that he understood the whole of it.

Lupin held out his hands to him in an almost pleading gesture. "Please Harry. I know we've already missed too much time together, and I know that a relationship with each other won't come immediately. I know it'll take time. But if it takes until the day I'm on my death bed it'll be worth it to me. I do love you, son. I always have and I always will."

And with that, Harry simply crumbled.

Hermione made her way with Ron through the great double doors and into the bright sunlight of early afternoon. She'd only just been awakened by the sound of Ron's knocking on their portrait door, (which greatly disturbed Sir Cadogen so much so that he challenged Ron yet again to a duel) and when she opened her eyes, she realised that Harry wasn't there beside her. They'd determined that he'd gone to visit Hagrid as the three of them usually did on Sundays, but had been told that he had gone for a walk with his father. It only took them a few minutes to decide to try walking round the lake.

They began rounding a section of hill that wasn't littered with other students until Hermione let out a gasp and grabbed Ron's arm, pointing toward where a pair of men stood with their arms wrapped around each other. They moved back round the hill to avoid being seen, and Hermione wiped her eyes with trembling hands, though smiling as she continued to take peeks at Harry and Lupin. The two finally separated and continued talking, though Lupin kept his hand on Harry's shoulder the entire time.