The heart continued to beat on his chest, while their host sat back to watch the look of horror break on his double's face. The heart was still warm, and dripped blood. "She squirmed a bit at first. I imagine you're familiar with her squirming, or is she a screamer? Interesting scars on her tit, that must have been a memorable night," he taunted.
The heart kept beating.
The other Harry glared at the now covered but unconscious Weasley, then gave the beating heart on his double's chest a pat. Hermione managed to hobble away, but not far enough; he walked to her and roughly grabbed her arms. He pulled her into a vicious kiss, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She attempted to resist, but was too weak.
"I always seem to get aroused when I kill something, don't you?" he asked. He smiled maliciously as he pushed her aside, and spat on her as he reclaimed his spot at the table. "Yes, I'm sure you do too." He kicked his feet onto the table and leaned back. "And yes, the bitch was knocked up, didn't you know? Or maybe it wasn't yours? Maybe I let the 'cat out of the bag' there, eh?" His comments cut deeper then a blade, and the heart kept beating.
"Maybe she's been stepping out without you knowing. How would you catch a cheating bitch anyway?" he paused to reflect. "I guess you could have waited to see what popped out, pity it's too late for that now. If you had half a brain you might have caught her shagging some low life." He kicked his feet from the table and leaned across it, "Maybe you're just not man enough to keep her from wandering, hmmm?"
Harry managed to partially shake the Immobulus curse and screamed in agony, but his invisible bonds held tight. "NOOO!" he kept screaming as his body continued to shake. The shaking was a vain attempt to dislodge her heart from his chest. It continued to beat, even though it was now empty of blood and utterly useless.
"Grow some stones. I cut you free from the cheating bitch; you should be thanking me," he taunted. "But then again, now you'll never know if she was cheating or not. Pity." He sat reflecting on the effects these revelations had. "The honest truth, she admitted she had recently found another guy, an older bloke that's more of a man than you. I guess experience matters."
Harry screamed again, as his anger and agony grew. She was dead. The beating heart remained on his chest. He writhed and shook for an eternity; with each passing second, each beat of the heart tore deep into his soul. The seconds ticked by, turned to minutes, and then the minutes began to build. His futile attempts to break the charm encapsulating him formed a flow of sweat across his brow, and seemed to highly entertain his other self . Fatigue began to settle in as Harry continued to struggle fruitlessly against the spell.
To his side Fred began to wake from his torture-induced sleep; he emitted moan after moan from his stiffness and fresh wounds. The tyrant's attention was momentarily drawn away from Harry's agony and he dealt with this as he would any trivial annoyance.
"Hmmm, Weasel's finally awake. Good. CRUCIO!" the other Harry yelled, his wand levelled at the red-haired wizard. Fred's already battered body arched in the pain of the torture spell as Sirius and Hermione watched, unable to help. Harry though did not even notice. His mind began to fog as the realisation that the best part of his life had been murdered. His anger blinded him to his friend's suffering beside him.
Fred's skin began to quiver, the muscles over his entire body flexing and relaxing at an uncontrolled rate. The spasms tore his side open even more, exposing the raw muscle around his ribs. His silent screams pantomimed Harry's anguish. Sirius felt a sickening lump form in his stomach, partly for Fred's pain, partly for Harry's loss.
Their maniacal host maintained his spell, his guttural laugh vaguely reminiscent of the madman he had vanquished ten years before. Then, he yawned and glanced at the clock as it ticked seconds of life from his captives.
He lowered his wand and sat back to admire his handiwork. Noticing that one of his guests had yet been untouched, a smile grew on his face.
"It's getting late. I'll see you boys after dinner. Sirius, I haven't forgotten you. I'll have a special treat for you after dinner." He left the room whistling a short tune.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, Harry had stopped struggling against the invisible bonds. He could not shake the organ from his chest; his shaking now was the rising hatred in his own heart.
"Harry," Sirius called.
The only response was the wizard's broken sobs.
"Harry, listen. We'll kill the bastard. I swear, as a wizard and as your godfather, she will be avenged."
In a quivering mass near the table, Hermione Granger remained too afraid to move. Through the matted hair on her face, she watched Harry and Fred's suffering. She could clearly see from one eye now, and the swelling in the other had reduced enough to see shades of light.
Hermione stared at the heart on Harry's chest, knowing it to be a mirror of the heart in her own chest. She could see he had lost something precious, and wished someone would grieve for her like that one day. Her eyes closed as she fought back her fears and the voices that haunted her. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, she hobbled to Harry and slipped the chain off his neck. His face was streaked with grief, and she felt something stir within her own emotions that she had thought long dead. She could not reach him, so instead she placed a kiss on her palm and placed it on his cheek. The heart kept beating even after she returned it to the bowl.
Harry never noticed her palm was scar-free.
Through his tears he imagined he could still hear her voice. He closed his eyes tightly and an image flashed in his mind. He saw a woman with short brown hair lying face down in a pool of blood. In his emotionally enhanced state he imagined her voice calling him, but shook it off.
Sirius watched his godson as he tried to fight to overcome his new grief. He kept shaking his head violently. "Harry, still with us?" he asked.
Hermione stopped at the table and let gravity take hold to slump back to the floor, she would not let those voices take over again.
Harry stopped struggling, and looked to Hermione lying on the floor nearby. "D-d-did you say something?" he asked her.
"No, I-I …" she stammered. She had been staring at the bowl lost in her thoughts.
"I-I can still hear her," he cried, and struggled against the chains. He pulled hard, the manacles dug deeper into his wrists. The fresh, sharp pain sent a surge through him, but the harder he struggled, the deeper the cuts from the manacles grew.
"We need to work out a plan to escape, then we'll all avenge her," Sirius said to console him.
Fred moaned from the torture, his torn side still bleeding.
"Hermione!" Harry screamed with conviction, this last outburst finally breaking his invisible bonds.
"Stag's losing it. She's dead mate, face it," Sirius barked.
But now free of the Immobulus curse, Harry could see the body clearly in his mind. He screamed for her. The longer the image remained, the deeper his rage grew.
"Stag!" Sirius shouted at Harry, again. "Snap out of it, come on, boy."
Harry shook his head, his mental image of Hermione disappearing, and turned to look at his godfather. "We've got to get out of here. We've got to find her; she's still alive, she has to be," he managed to choke out.
"Harry, are you okay? Are you certain you're ok? She's gone, you understand that?"
Harry looked at his chains again, and closed his eyes to concentrate. 'Help me, my love,' he thought and felt a familiar twinge. His hands flattened, and he pointed his palms up to the ceiling. A blue glow emanated from his hands and turned into a blue beam of light that ran up the length of his chains. Fresh sweat broke from his brow as he forced the spell to strengthen.
Sirius watched this new display of raw power. The manacles that held Harry glowed. The intense light forced him to look away, and in the next instant, the glow in the room disappeared.
Harry lay on the floor, having fallen a metre. He remained there, dazed for a moment, then shook the feeling off. Slowly, he staggered to his feet, his first thoughts to release his companions.
"I'll have you both free in a moment." He stretched his hands toward the others'chains, but could not summon the energy he needed.
Exhausted, he fell to his knees, trying to recover. "That's a fair try, Harry. It must have required a huge effort," Sirius consoled him.
Harry remained on the floor, and wondered how long it would be before the other Harry returned. "Give me a moment to gather my thoughts, Sirius," he muttered.
Before either man could draw another breath, they heard an incantation.
"Bombarda!" Hermione shouted from the table. She had found Fred's wand on the table and had pointed to the ceiling. That was more than enough to rip the chains and a good portion of the ceiling loose. Both Sirius and Fred joined Harry on the floor.
Hermione fell to the floor, exhausted, but altered. She smiled as Harry came to her side, too weak to lift her arms but beginning to resemble her old self. The brief conversations she had had in the past day did more for her spirit then a month in the hospital would do for her body.
"No, there's nothing left for me. You showed me there should have been more. That's all gone. There's nothing left for me here. You leave I'll try to slow him down."
"I won't leave you to that monster. I promise you will live out your life free from him, even if I have to take you with me when I leave. You're so much like her," he said softly as he stroked her hair. She started sobbing softly at his kind touch and the gentle look in his eyes. Even in the face of his loss, she could see the love she lost.
"Go, go and leave me here," she said.
Harry shook his head, "No, I brought you here and I'll get you out of here, to safety. I swear I won't leave you here for him to hurt you again. Sirius, help Fred; I've got Hermione."
Hermione buried her face into Harry's shoulder, and they consoled each other.
"Harry?" she whispered, and he nodded in reply. "You're not my Harry, but you're the person I always wanted him to be. I still love him, I don't know why. But I would trade my life for Hermione's if it could make you happy."
"Shh … I know. You're so much like her," he whispered.
"They've been gone more than four months, why do you still cling to them?"
"They are my closest friends, I can't just let them go, you don't understand."
"It's because you're still in love with her?" she said, again verbalising her single resentment.
"I am not in love with her, you know that."
"I've been just a substitute," she said, the hurt was clearly evident in her voice.
"You're my wife, not a substitute," Ron had had this argument before with Luna, always with the same result.
"Then let them go."
"I can't."
"But you have to move on. They are gone," her tone softened, Ron had struggled to maintain there was still hope, but no one ever returned from the arch.
"They are as much a part of me as you and the children. I can't let them go. They helped define who I am. You don't understand."
"How could I? The three of you never really let me be part of your secret little world."
"We were kids; you are the only one in my world now."
"Then I'll always be your second choice. Do you know how much that hurts?"
"Luna, love, I don't look at it as 'a second choice' but the right choice for me. Yes, I thought I loved her-"
Luna drew in a deep breath but Ron held his hand to stop her thoughts before she said a word.
"I thought she was the one for me. But I realised that even though we did and do love each other, we were never in love. I never felt the same for her that I feel for you. I was a fool to think we even had a chance, she was obviously waiting for someone else, but neither of us knew it at the time."
"I knew it," Luna said softly.
"I know, you started to make me understand how wrong I was. It was you I was really looking for. I'm glad you had been able to see that. I'm glad somehow I began to realise that too. Of all of us at that time, you were the only one that seemed to know who you wanted from the start. And you waited. And you were there to help pick up the 'pieces' and made me see what I almost missed."
Luna just shrugged her shoulders in reply, as if she knew he was right.
"You know I'm right, you know how I feel about you, Arthur and that little one we haven't met," Ron said, as he held her and gave her expanding belly a light pat.
She finally nodded. "Yes, but sometimes it's nice to hear that."
"The memorial is in an hour, and I am expected to be there, will you be with me, at my side?"
"Do you want me there or are you afraid to stand alone? You always had them with you. Even after Hogwarts."
"I can let them go, only if you're there with me."
Luna reached a hand to Ron and she reluctantly nodded. "They were also my friends, Ron, I'll miss them too."
"Minerva asked that we arrive early, she had to discuss some matters about their estate," he said hoping to shift the subject from painful topics.
"Doesn't it all go to her cousin? Eileen?"
"She mentioned a meeting with a distant relation contesting the standing will, since I have been the executor of their estate, this has become an issue."
"You know the law, six months is required after they have been confirmed dead."
He nodded, "but I still don't believe they are dead."
"Ron, the Veil has been our form of dealing with the worst of our world for centuries, it has been the most humane form of execution we have."
"Yes, I know, but I still have hope, they went together, and they have done things together that seemed impossible."
"This is beyond even them," she shook her head in frustration, sympathy no longer worked, he needed to realise he alone still held hope.
"Yes, at some level, deep down I know you're right," he replied.
"Now, it's time to go, Arthur has been itching to strip off his dress robes since he put them on. Could you get him, I can't stand to climb those stairs again."
Ron smiled and understood. This new child was giving her more difficulty then Arthur, and this child was eager to make his or her presence known.
"Arthur! It's time," he called.
"I said fetch him, I could have called him down myself," Luna scolded.
Ron shrugged, "I didn't want to leave you."
The boy came running down the stairs, an image this home had seen for countless generations of Weasleys. The three gathered at the ancient fireplace, and first to leave was Luna. She held her son's hand as she grabbed a handful of powder and stepped into the fireplace.
"Hogwarts Great Hall," she called out and tossed the powder at her feet.
Ron threw his cloak over his shoulders, and straightened his bronze Auror badge before following his family.
The Great Hall had not changed in the years since they had left. However, the solemn décor mirrored the sombre event being hosted. The four house tables had been cleared, and replaced with rows of chairs. Dignitaries from every major wizard community in the world mingled before the ceremony began; representatives from portions of the wizard communities unaffected by the terror of Lord Voldemort were in attendance to honour the greatest wizard since Merlin. Ron and his family were ushered to a place of honour where the High Table usually sat. Several rows of chairs created an arch around the podium.
Luna and Arthur took their seats next to Albus Dumbledore, who had been engaged in a very private discussion with the mysteriously cloaked figure sitting on the other side of him, a conversation so private it required a Silencing Charm placed upon it. Though once the two Weasley's arrived, the kindly wizard had turned immediately to the young Weasley beside him, scratched his snow-white beard, and smiled warmly at him. Any other boy would have been in awe to have the Minister for Magic sit with him.
The mysterious figure stood, and approached Ron Weasley, as he stood in conversation with the headmistress of the school.
"Exactly, Minerva, the law clearly states six months have to pass after certainty of death before an estate can be awarded. My contention is that certainty of death has not been satisfied."
The cloaked figure reached a hand out to Ron, saying, "I share those sentiments, Auror Weasley. I feel you are correct."
"Excuse me, exactly who are you?"
"I am one of Mrs Potter's oldest friends. I have known her as a young woman and girl, and watched her grow with you and Harry over the years. My name is unimportant, just be assured the Minister and I are equally old friends."
"Then you wouldn't mind sharing your name." Ron's sense of mystery told him this man had knowledge of vital importance in his prolonged investigations.
Ron felt a hand touch his shoulder and tuned to see the Minister at his side. "My old friend, Senior Auror Weasley, is, as you know, the Potters' oldest friend. And I'm certain my word should suffice for his credibility."
Ron turned, "Yes, sir. As you are standing up for his credibility, then there is nothing…" he paused a moment, "Did you say Senior Auror?"
A smile and warm hand was offered to Ron, "For recognition long overdue. Now have a seat, the ceremony is about to begin."
Ron finished shaking the hand of the Minister for Magic, before returning to his family, the bronze badge he had proudly worn turned into a gold one, a mark of his promotion .
Albus, meanwhile, placed a hand on the cloaked man before they parted company, he and Minerva returned to the seats behind the podium, while Albus stood to address those in attendance .
"Friends, members of the wizarding world's communities, if we may begin."
He waved a hand over the podium, the banners that hung from the rafters changed, now bearing the image of Harry and Hermione when they were happiest, the images shifted from the day of their wedding, to when they received their Order of Merlin, First Class, other awards, to times shared with close friends.
"We are here to pay final tribute to not a hero, but to a man and a woman. Not to a skilled wizard and gifted witch, but to a loving couple. When Harry first met Hermione, the magic of their lives included the lives they touched. Ronald Weasley is as much a part of that story as either of them, but had never received the same awards and honours. Today we will pay final tribute and a first tribute.
"But first, Harry and Hermione Potter are not with us today, solely due to the love they have for each other. That love was the reason they protected each other. Recent events have unfolded that had put that love to task, beginning with events triggered by meddlesome deities believing they have every answer."
A covered hand rose to a cloaked face to muffle a cough.
"They are not here today to witness this monument. It was commissioned to honour them for their lives and their accomplishments."
He raised a hand, and a massive cloth draped over an equally massive structure began to rise.
"I can say I knew Harry as well as any other person alive. He would not want this monument to reflect his feat of ten years ago. So this is in recognition of his life and his love."
The cloth rose from the statue, three figures stood a full four metres. Harry stood in the centre with Hermione to his side and Ron to his other side. The images were of them as they looked as young adults. A tablet in Harry's hand listed names of those that supported and aided them, Ginny and Luna topped the list; Draco followed them on the list. Hagrid, Eileen and Jake's names had also been engraved .
The base of the monument held the names of those lost, with Harry and Hermione Potter as the first couple, followed by Jason and Janet Potter, James and Lily Potter, and Arthur and Molly Weasley .
"Please let this be the only memorial for them and let this reflect their lives, not their deaths. Let them be the last victims of Voldemort's final attempt to rise to power. I know I shall miss them both, Harry was like a son to me, and I failed him and his wife. I…" Albus stood silent, unable to finish his thought.
Minerva stood to take over, but the ancient man held a hand up to stop her.
"Every person here that knew them has their own personal memories, what is important, is that you all remember them in that light, keep them alive in your hearts. There will never be a kinder, gentler man than Harry Potter, and there will never be a more caring and open woman than Hermione Potter; goodbye my children." He turned and left the raised dais to try to regain his composure.
The headmistress of the school took his spot, "Thank you all for being here to honour them, there is a reception following on the grounds they loved so much." She turned and left the podium, signalling the assembly to leave.
"Mr. Weasley, a word if you please." Ron heard from behind, just as they left the Great Hall. The voice was familiar but he was unable to place it.
"Luna, please take Arthur, something tells me this may be important," he quietly said to his wife before turning to face the mystery man.
"I believe there's a room we can use privately, this is for your ears alone," he whispered to Ron. The Auror held a sceptical look as he followed.
The man turned and left for a small chamber that Ron did not recall. Its door appeared as nondescript as any classroom , but once inside it, the room's walls changed and vanished; vines and trees sprouted from thin air, covering the entrance .
The mysterious figure strolled to a field surrounded with trees and a meandering brook in the distance . Ron felt a gentle breeze surround him as he followed the man to a pair of chairs carved from the stumps of two trees, a table sat between them; it was carved from a single slab of granite.
"Please sit; would you care for some tea?" A pair of teacups appeared, steam still escaping the pot that sat between them, filling the clearing with its aroma. In the centre of the table sat a plate of biscuits and other treats he remembered his mother baking when he was a boy.
"I'm certain you have questions, and I think you deserve some answers. Come and sit." The mystery figure poured the tea into the two cups on the table.
Ron cautiously complied and sat on the offered seat. His mysterious host turned to face him and shed his massive cloak. The man before him was not the one he imagined. He seemed so familiar, almost exactly like Albus Dumbledore, except his nose wasn't long and crooked, and he wasn't as thin as the Minster. The wizard's hair and beard were snow white; both extended half the length of his body. He wore a pleasant smile, and his blue eyes twinkled in the rising sun's rays. His long, periwinkle blue robes and cloak swept the ground, showing high-backed boots laced up to the top. The very top of his boots was folded down over the laces, looking like socks that wanted to slip to his ankles. Ron also noted this man was not wearing glasses, nor did he appear to be as old as Albus.
"Who am I? That would be your first question. And why did I bring you here, which would be your second. Is that about the size of our introductions?" he said with a smile as he picked up his cup.
Ron stared at the man, his face firm with a foreboding glare practiced from years of hunting Dark wizards. "Yes. Identify yourself, and your purpose for this ruse."
"Hermione was far more pleasant when we met. We had a nice chat before she had to leave. Lovely girl, but you already know that."
"Do you know where they are?" he asked, he tried to maintain his tone, only his training held him back.
"Yes, I believe I know exactly where they are. But let me introduce myself, I am an old acquaintance of Albus'or more correctly, I was his mentor. My name is Myddrin. But p lease have some tea, I believe you'll find it delightful, I've grown a soft spot for Twinings Lady Grey, although Hermione did not seem to care for it."
"Myddrin, is it? When was the last time you saw them?" Ron insisted.
"The last time? Here or where they are now?"
Ron blinked and sat. "Are they still alive?" he asked bluntly.
"They were alive this morning, but I cannot tell if they are safe at this moment. The wards surrounding them are powerful and they need you to help them."
"But the Veil, they passed through it?"
Myddrin nodded, "Yes they did, several times now, I believe. And each time they succeed and continue their adventure, the closer they come to understanding why."
Myddrin leaned forward and picked up a biscuit, and added a splash of milk to his tea. "I tried to explain to Hermione when we chatted, some five or six centuries ago, I had a companion that took an apprentice who held evil in his soul. That is the same evil that you, Harry and Hermione had, and will fight here. It is the same evil they are confronting even as we speak."
"Who is this companion of yours, and why can't they deal with this 'apprentice'?"
"She had passed to the next level; I am the last of that order. The details are not necessary for you to understand, or even know. I felt I owed you this message that, yes you are correct to hope for them. It is your faith in your friends that has helped and guided them when they needed you . Hermione has expressed several times how important your skills would have been to them. Your talent as a tactician parallels Harry's abilities for doing what is right."
Ron stood sharply, his long held grief for his friends boiled to the surface in the form of anger. "Tell me what you know, and I promise I will speak on your behalf at the hearing. If you had any involvement with their disappearance, I swear I'll see you in Azkaban." Ron exploded. His fiery temper broke through.
"Please, Ronald, sit. I tried to explain to her that none of this was her doing, or mine for that matter. But because of a selfish act so many years ago, events fell into place that required minor correction."
Ron remained standing, his hand held his wand as it sat in his cloak pocket. "What events?"
"As I said, my companion's misguided apprentice changed the course of time in an attempt for absolute power. Only someone absolute in their own quest could correct that change. The person was Hermione. She executed her task brilliantly, and in a fashion I never anticipated."
"Then take me to them, now," he demanded.
"That I cannot do, I cannot help them because I do not exist where they are."
"What good is this farce of a meeting, then? Exactly why am I here?"
"You can seek them out, in your thoughts. You're as strongly linked to them as I was to my companions before they passed. They will not know it was you, but you can help guide them. They do need you."
"That's all? Think about them?
"Essentially, yes. As Albus told those at the dedication, to always keep them in your thoughts; that will help them find the strength when they need it most, and I feel they need as much help now as they ever did."
Ron sat back to absorb this revelation and to ask. "How do I know this isn't an elaborate hoax? You've given no real proof of who you are."
"You are absolutely correct, and I have no proof other then my word. For that you could ask Albus about my authenticity, if I were to allow you to remember this conversation. That unfortunately is not possible."
"And why is that? Unless you plan to wipe my memory then I will remember this meeting." His fingers tightened on his wand and began to pull it slowly from its hiding place.
"You wand will be ineffective here. I have no intention of altering your memory, on the contrary I will remind you of key points after we return."
"Return? Where did we go?"
"It's not a matter of where but when. I learned from my error with Hermione to not have these conversations in your past. We are, if I'm not mistaken, several hundred years into your future. You will remember this in its entirety, but you will be an old man, and attribute it to senility. I will give you a reminder of Albus'message to keep them in your thoughts. That should suffice.
"Now, if you are ready, your wife is waiting."
Ron blinked at the revelation, feeling confused. He sat and stared for a moment, as things began to swirl around. The time he spent with Myddrin seemed to rewind. Ron watched as Myddrin put the teacup back on the table and the fluid poured back up into the teapot. The man opposite him stood, as did Ron, and they both turned and walked backward away from the table and tree-stump chairs. Ron's mind began to lose focus on the conversation. The ivy and shrubs sank back into the walls; a small classroom desk appeared where one did not exist. Ron remembered passing through a door as it shut in front of him.
Ron turned, and remembered Luna as she took their son by the hand. It all seemed terribly familiar
"Mr. Weasley, a word if you please." Ron heard from behind, just as they left the Great Hall. The voice was familiar but he was unable to place it. He turned to see a familiar face as a hand stretched to his.
"Sir, I want to offer my sincere thanks for all you have done. I hope you remember what the Minister said and keep them both in your thoughts."
Ron shook the man's hand and cocked his head, "Tom? From the Cauldron, right?"