Disclaimer
The characters and universe created by J.K.Rowling are hers alone. As imitation is the sincerest form of flattery I hope this story can be taken in that way. Some of the additional characters are mine and who knows some of them may even be real.
The tale takes Harry, Hermione and every one else from the end of their fifth year at Hogwarts, to the very end. If there is one…. .Harry turned to his wife, she looked no different to him, but the bushy hair was now silver not brown. She returned his stare; the boy she loved was still there hidden under a mantle of years, his white hair short enough so that the lighting shaped scar was still visible on his forehead. There was no need for words they were so in tune that both knew that the time was right. Standing they held each others hand and indulged in a last kiss. The door appeared before them the lightly fluttering veil hiding what lay beyond; side by side they stepped through……. If you would discover how they reached this point, and what happens after please read on…
Forever Together Pt.1. Hermione's Tear.
The early morning sun streamed through the windows of the large circular room. The sounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry going about its normal daily activities barely penetrated the thick door of the office. A gentle whispering sound which seemed to come from the many portraits hanging on the walls presented no distraction. The man sitting at the desk gazed into the object placed in front of him, lost deep in thought. He had long white hair and saw the world over a pair of half moon glasses that were perched at the end of his nose.
His age was difficult to gauge - 50 or 150, it was hard to tell. His features looked careworn but his eyes still held a youthful twinkle. He sighed, his shoulders sagged. It was all over now, he thought. Battles fought, won and lost, some survived, and some did not. The last two years had seen events climb to a climax of such immense proportions that the aftershock sent the wizarding world reeling and left this wizard feeling very weary indeed. For his own peace of mind he needed to sort it all out, set the events in order. Could that what the wizarding world had so recently lost be justified? He needed to know.
He continued to stare into the depths of the crystal on his desk, the smooth surface of the object drew him into its core and the images began to form.
The image of a boy, dark hair, which he had inherited from his father and green eyes from his mother, but that was not the sum of his inheritance, it was far more complicated than that. He was a wizard, he had been all his life, but had only known about it since his eleventh birthday, and on that day he had learned the truth about his parents. They had been murdered by the most evil wizard to arise in living memory; the boy had survived because of his mother's sacrifice. The wizarding world thought that the evil one was dead as well, destroyed when his own spell backfired as he tried to kill the boy; but he too had survived, only just, but enough, and now he was back. The boy had survived four more attempts by the dark wizard and his followers to kill him. By his own skill, determination and with the help of his closest friends he had thwarted the plans of Lord Voldemort, but a few short weeks ago the side of the dark lord had achieved one success and had robbed the boy of the man he considered his only legitimate family, Sirius Black his godfather.
The boy had other family but they didn't count, they weren't magical, they were muggles and as unmagical muggles as there could be. His Aunt Petunia, his mother's sister, his Uncle Vernon and his cousin Dudley, they hated the boy and the feelings were mutual. The only benefit to the boy was that staying with his blood relation provided protection from Voldemort, he was safe while he was with them, and that is why the boy spent his summer holidays in the last place he really wanted to be.
Harry Potter was miserable; he looked at his reflection in the mirror of his bedroom, his untidy mop of dark hair, his green eyes and the present from Voldemort a lighting shaped scar on his forehead, his shoulders sagged and he sighed. It was like this each evening as the darkness slowly deepened in the sky over Little Whinging. His thoughts turned to the events at the Ministry of Magic last month, and the picture etched into his brain of Sirius, the look of shock and surprise on his face as he passed out of Harry's life for ever.
Harry was finding it very difficult to forgive himself for Sirius's death and the injuries his friends suffered at the hands of Voldemort's Death Eaters; the only comfort was that none of them suffered lasting damage. He lay on his bed thinking of all the "if onlys" that would have changed things. Eventually still fully clothed he drifted off to an uneasy sleep.
Harry's time with his relations was never pleasant, however this year the intervention of the members of The Order of The Phoenix, with his Aunt and Uncle at Kings Cross, had served to make Harry's life a little easier at number 4 Privet Drive. They had insisted, quite strongly, that he be allowed to keep in touch with the wizarding world and that retribution would follow any reports of bad treatment.
So his Uncle had become a little less bullish. His Aunt had become a little less shrewish. But, no matter how you looked at it, his cousin Dudley was still the fattest pig on two legs that Harry had ever seen.
"I suppose we will have to allow you to use that ruddy bird of yours" said Uncle Vernon in a voice which left the clear impression that permission was being grudgingly given.
"Well it will stop my friends from becoming concerned; or coming round!" replied Harry using his most convincing voice.
"Yes, well see that it's only at night!" he retorted, colouring up; "we don't want the neighbours seeing anything out of the ordinary".
Other than that his relations gave Harry a wide berth.
So at least Harry could now write to Ron and Hermione and let the Order know he was OK. However one of his friends was not to be put off by the seemingly cheery notes Hedwig carried into the night during the first couple of weeks of the holidays, and she made that very clear.
Hermione's letter had started simply enough.
Dear Harry,
Thanks for the note! Yes I am completely OK now, no muscle aches or anything and NO I have not had my head stuck in a book since I came home (well not all the time anyway!). My mum and dad are very busy at the moment as their dental clinic has just been refurbished and they have taken on a new partner so it looks as if any long holiday away is out for this year.
Harry could hear the words in his mind as if she was saying them herself. He liked the sound of that voice, he found it comforting and calming. She wrote about ordinary things, 'muggle stuff", free of dark wizards and lurking death. It was a joy to read. Then her tone changed, this was the concerned voice he usually heard as he regained consciousness in the hospital wing after some accident or near disaster.
I am worried about you. The letter continued. I know that you say you are OK and that things are better for you at home but I don't think your uncle and aunt are going to change into Mr and Mrs Nice Person over night, they have had too much practice of being the opposite.
And please don't get cross or upset with me but you haven't mentioned Sirius and I know he isn't out of your mind. I don't know if you want to talk about everything yet but if you do I am here and I can listen!!. Be a muggle and use the phone!.
Harry put the letter to one side, she was right, but did he want to talk about it yet? He wasn't so sure, but to be able to speak to her….. Why hadn't he thought of using the phone? Probably because he never imagined his aunt or uncle allowing it but now it might be possible.
Picking up the parchment again and glancing back at Hermione's neat writing she had finished. I won't call you in case it causes problems. I really would like to hear from you.
Love Hermione.
"Aunt Petunia would you mind if I used the phone?"
He had waited until Uncle Vernon was out at work. Dudley was off terrorising the neighbourhood with the rest of his old gang. He thought his aunt might be the softer touch.
"Does anyone you know have a telephone?"
"Yes, she is a friend of mine. Her mum and dad are dentists" Harry added in order to make it all as muggle-like as possible.
"Well alright, but if is going to be a long call get her to ring you back, your uncle has a thing about large phone bills."
Harry dialled the number Hermione had given him at the end of their first year.
"Just in case" she had said.
He heard the clicks of connection and then the phone at the other end started to ring.
"Hello" said the instantly recognisable voice.
"Err hi." said Harry.
"HARRY IS THAT REALLY YOU?"
Harry winced at the volume of her reply.
"Err yes"
"Oh it's so lovely to hear your voice I know it's only a few weeks but I have missed you,…… and everyone" was the hastily added after thought. "Are you really OK, I didn't really believe all you said in your note, not that you said very much, and you shouldn't bottle up your feelings it only makes them worse".
Harry smiled at the speed with which Hermione had managed to say all this, hardly drawing breath.
"I'm fine; it's nice to hear you too. Look I can't stay long on the phone but I would like to talk, maybe not about everything, but as you said talking may help and being here is still like solitary confinement. I wish we could meet somewhere."
"Gosh Harry I don't know, what with HIM active, urgh! OK I'll say it, Voldemort; around it might not be easy to find somewhere safe. If anywhere is safe now".
Before Harry could think of a suitable reply there was a popping noise in the air beside him and an "Oh!!" of surprise from Hermione.
Harry looked at the floor and the sealed roll of parchment which had just landed at his feet.
"Have you just…..?"
"Yes" said Harry "It's from school, look at the seal".
"It can't be OWL results. It's still too early".
There were a few moments silence, save for the rustling of parchment. Harry's letter was short and to the point.
Speed is of the essence and we have no time turner to help pass the Buck. Pack and use the portkey on your bed. AD.
"Hermione read your note to me". It was the same.
"Can we trust it Harry?"
"I think so, only the three of us and the Headmaster knew about using the time turner at the end of our third year, so it must be genuine. I suppose we ought to get a move on, see you later".
With a "Goodbye and take care" ringing in his ears Harry went in search of his Aunt.
"I have to go back to school Aunt Petunia and I have to go now".
"Well there is nothing I can do about it; the Polkisses are coming round for coffee. It's typical of your lot, no thought for the normal people of this world."
"It's OK, no need, everything has been arranged" Harry yelled as he ran up the stairs.
"Well make sure your room is tidy before you go!" his Aunt shouted after him.
Harry rushed to his room. On his bed was a cracked mug which had certainly not been there before. He began to fill his trunk, stuffing it with all his possessions in a very haphazard manner. Releasing Hedwig with a quick "Follow me" Harry, with his hand holding his trunk and Firebolt under his arm, reached out and touched the mug. The familiar navel jerk and he was away.
Harry landed in a heap in Dumbledore's study, his possessions flying out of his grip.
The Headmaster was sitting at his desk with an amused twinkle in his amazingly blue eyes.
"Hello Harry, I hope you don't mind me calling you back to school, I will explain all when Hermione gets here".
Harry had not been happy with the Headmaster the last time they had spoken; in fact he had been furious. However the nights he had spent thinking things out had made him realise that even if the world revolved because of Harry Potter, it did not revolve around him. He had even contemplated the fact that events so recently endured may have made him grow up a bit.
"Are you still cross with me Harry? I don't feel we parted on good terms, I hoped you would understand?"
"I've spent a lot of time thinking Professor. I cannot help but blame myself as to what happened, but at the time I needed to blame someone, anyone, and I picked you. Neither of us intended things to happen the way they did. I hope I can learn from my mistakes."
"I have the same wish Harry. I have been around for a very long time and have made many more mistakes than you. None have been as painful to me as the ones I made with you. Can we start afresh?"
Harry looked closely at his Headmaster. The old strong Dumbledore was back, he had hated seeing him looking old and weak as he had at the end of last term. Harry made a resolution he hoped he could keep, not to be a prat.
"Yes Professor I would like that".
Fawkes the Headmasters phoenix resplendent in his red and gold plumage flew from his perch and landed on Harry's knee.
"'Lo Fawkes, you forgive me too?"
As if in answer the bird lifted his head, and from his throat came the most beautiful and uplifting song. Harry never tired of hearing it and he reached out and gently stroked the soft feathers.
Harry was half way through the cup of tea the Headmaster had provided when Hermione popped out of thin air and arrived in the study; far more gracefully than Harry had.
"Sorry if I'm late Professor but I couldn't just throw everything into my trunk and I needed to tell my mum and dad what was going on. Hi Harry". She beamed at him.
"Think nothing of it Hermione. I know you came as fast as you could". Dumbledore smiled.
Harry gave her a "girls!" sort of look but then a big smile, because he was genuinely pleased to see her.
"Make yourself comfortable and have a cup of tea. Then I will explain why I have brought you both back to school." Dumbledore took a deep breath and began. "Something has occurred which as far as I am aware has not happened for some three hundred years. It has a bearing on, but is not directly involving Voldemort or his Death Eaters. I have received a communication from the Islanders". He paused to see if his words elicited any response.
They did.
Harry looked bemused.
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.
"But they never contact the outside world, it's not in there nature to interfere, I've read about them in Secluded Sects and Their Serious Secrets by Archie Digwell."
"Well at least it wasn't Hogwarts, a History." muttered Harry.
Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry what can you tell me about Merlin?"
"Err….Well, probably the most famous wizard in both the muggle and our worlds, he has an award named after him, and he was mixed up with King Arthur, if that bit is true?" He replied.
"Well that's a rather brief synopsis. I'll expand it a bit." Dumbledore said, and continued, "Merlin was born in Wales. He lived and performed most of his most famous pieces of magic there and in the south west corner of England. There is no record of his death; he is thought simply to have vanished. The tale is told that like King Arthur he will appear when needed and aid the champion of light, as he did before. Geoffrey of Monmouth was the person who passed the legend down to us, and as he was a wizard himself, there may be a bit of truth in it. That aside, there is one place in the west which contains so much magic that even the muggles have heard of it; The Isle of Avalon. Merlin was deeply involved with the witches and wizards who lived in it, much of his phenomenal power was said to originate from there.
…….A magical community has existed in the Isle for several thousand years, never very large but very skilled, mainly in the more natural earthbound aspects of our gift. That is why they keep themselves apart; they can protect their own group but cannot fight the dark arts.
They are called 'Islanders' err… for fairly obvious reasons . So you ask what does this have to do with us?"
Harry shut his mouth as he was just going to ask that very question.
"Every few hundred years the Islanders find themselves with a bit of a problem, a wizard or witch who, when they reach maturity, is not content to follow the secular ways and to leave the rest of the world alone to stew in it own mess. They are always very powerful, and as far as the community is concerned have an unhealthy grasp of both the dark arts and how to deal with them. They become a disruptive influence and general nuisance."
"Strangely." He went on. "They seem to appear just when the outside world could do with a bit of help, and in both this and the previous occasions the Islanders have approached the Headmaster of this school and I, like my predecessors, have agreed to take the wizard in.
"Wow!, an Islander student, that will be really interesting, a completely different view on everything that is going on" said Hermione enthusiastically.
Dumbledore looked at her. "No my dear, not a student, he will be a teacher".
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. "Defence against the Dark Arts?" queried Harry.
"Quite correct, and he will be here tomorrow, so we need to get you both settled in then you will be ready to meet him".
"But why us?" said the pair, almost in unison.
"Ahh!.... Well there was this piece of advice, suggestion really, that came with their request. Perhaps if you read it yourselves it will make sense".
"Not another prophecy?" said Harry darkly.
Hermione looked hard at him "Another prophecy? Was there a first one?"
"Yes, I'll explain, maybe later".
Dumbledore handed over the parchment, and with their heads together Harry and Hermione read.
Take two from three. The one who bears the mark and his companion. They need to learn and understand that he will use the power but she will be a channel for it. The crystal he brings with him will help and the mysteries must give up their knowledge and not lock it away.
The pair looked up at Dumbledore and he shrugged his shoulders.
"I assumed that 'the three' were you two and Ron. Harry has the mark" he gestered to Harry's forehead. "So you see one of the two was going to be Harry and I didn't think 'she' meant Ron. However it's not a prophecy, just advice, and I'm sure the rest of the message will become clear in time." Harry scowled at the Headmaster. "Not too much time Harry".