Disclaimer: Not mine, as if you lived under a rock and thought it was.
PART III: The Beginning of the End
Chapter Three: Discoveries
Harry let his hand slide reluctantly out of Hermione's, and followed Lupin out of the waiting area, almost too bewildered to speak. Behind him, he knew that the Weasleys and Hermione had instantly gone into speculation mode.
"So…Neville's parents have snapped out of it, huh?" Harry said, trying to sound like he was talking about an everyday occurrence.
"Apparently so," Lupin said, in a more relaxed tone of voice. "The Order sent me to check on them, for obvious reasons, and they asked for you. Neville and his grandmother were on their way; they're probably up there by now." Harry came to a stop in the middle of the corridor.
"But - I don't need to - Neville - shouldn't he have some time with them?" Harry finally managed to articulate. "He doesn't need me barging in there."
"They were quite insistent on seeing you," Lupin said. "I'm sure that Neville wouldn't begrudge you a short conversation with them." Harry looked as if he rather doubted this, but he resumed following Lupin down the hall.
"What happened? I mean, did they just come out of it all on their own?" Harry ventured after a moment.
"Actually it was a new potion given them. The Ravenclaw Foundation has been developing it. Augusta Longbottom gave her permission for it to be tried, but they really didn't think anything would come of it, because the catatonia was so long-standing. It also happened relatively rapidly, as well. I think it's caught everyone flat-footed." Harry looked at Lupin dubiously.
"The press?" was all he said. Lupin shook his head.
"They do not know about this. With Bellatrix Lestrange still out there, the news that the Longbottoms have recovered does not need to become common knowledge." Harry supposed that Lupin was correct; when he had come panting into the waiting area, he had only told a roomful of Order members, after all.
Harry was surprised when they finally arrived at a ward that Harry had never been to before. He had been expecting to go up to the closed ward again, where they had seen Gilderoy Lockhart, but he supposed that the Longbottoms had probably been moved somewhere more private. He looked at Lupin with trepidation, not really wanting to go through the double doors. Lupin unsealed the doors with a wave of his wand, and gestured for Harry to enter the room. He could hear voices, one of whom was saying,
"Dumbledore gone, Amelia Bones? I can't believe - " Everyone turned to look at Remus and Harry, as they entered.
There were two hospital beds ensconced within, each bearing a partially reclined figure. Neville sat on a chair near the far bed, looking somewhat dazed, as if Christmas had come early and he was still trying to process it. Augusta Longbottom stood ramrod straight nearby, an unreadable expression on her proud face. Her eyes, however, seemed suspiciously wet.
"H - Harry!" Neville stammered, standing up.
"Hi, Neville," Harry replied awkwardly. Neville's parents were like the proverbial elephant in the room. "How's the Herbology internship going?"
"It's going great," Neville said with unconcealed enthusiasm, the tension draining away for a moment. "I'm learning loads!" Harry noticed Frank and Alice Longbottom exchange fond glances with each other and then look back at Neville.
"So, you're Harry Potter," Alice said, with a slight smile on her worn, pale face. Her stark-white hair made her look older than she actually was. "You look very like James." Harry swallowed, feeling odd as always when confronted with people who knew his parents. Alice was speaking slowly, as if it took her just a bit longer to process the transition from thought to speech.
"That's what I'm told," he said gravely, finally dragging his eyes up to meet her gaze.
"They were a few years behind us in school…but once we were all in the Order, we got to know them fairly well…Your mother - I've never seen a witch with so much innate talent. Magic just seemed to come off of her in waves."
"Yeah…" Harry said, thinking of how she had saved his life.
"We had just heard about them - about what happened and what you did, when - when the Lestranges …Everyone thought it was over, but we knew…" Her eyes drifted from him to Neville.
"It's hard to believe," she said, almost to herself. "I could tell time was passing, but it was like I was in a dream, something foggy and ill-defined…but nearly seventeen years!" She looked apologetically at Neville. "I - on some level, I knew you were there. I tried to tell you - "
"I know, Mum," Neville said, reaching out to pat her hand. Harry wondered if he too was thinking of the Drooble's gum wrappers, and shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling intrusive by just being in the room.
"Harry," Frank Longbottom said suddenly, his raspy, disused voice sounding suddenly very incongruous in the room. Harry noticed absently that his right hand was twitching, seemingly of its own accord. "Remus tells me you've defeated him - V - Voldemort again." He ground out the name with determination. "So, you've destroyed them all?"
Harry felt his insides begin to wind themselves up into a tight, painful knot. He looked at Neville's parents with wide, all-too-comprehending eyes. "What are you talking about?" Mr. Longbottom's round face was grave.
"What we had been researching for the Order. Why Bellatrix Lestrange came after us, so sure that we knew what had happened to him. Horcruxes." On the last word, his voice sank to a whisper.
"Everyone knows about those now, Dad," Neville said, not quite understanding the high amount of tension in the room, and wondering vaguely if it had anything to do with what happened on graduation night. "Harry, Hermione, and Ron destroyed them last summer, before Harry fought Voldemort in the Final Battle."
"How many?" Neville's dad asked, his eyes boring into Harry's.
"S - six," Harry stammered, feeling somehow exposed in front of Mr. Longbottom. He felt Remus lay one comforting hand on his shoulder.
"So there were seven pieces of his soul…that's what we thought he would do," Frank replied, looking very pale and tired.
"But - but Dumbledore said he - " Harry said in confusion, recalling the conversation that he and the Headmaster had had after he had successfully obtained Slughorn's memory. For some reason, he had gotten the impression that the horcrux theory was one that Dumbledore had only recently embarked upon.
"Dumbledore had been watching Tom Riddle very carefully since that stunt with Hagrid," Alice put in suddenly. "He had different Order members looking into different aspects of Dark magic that Riddle might try to pursue. I'm assuming that Dumbledore continued our research on his own, and was finally able to come up with proof that Riddle had done what we suspected all along."
"So Bel - Bellatrix found out what you were researching, and came after you?" Harry asked. Mr. Longbottom shook his head.
"We're not sure. We had kept everything very secret…not even the other Order members knew what we were studying." Remus hunched his shoulders slightly, in a move that seemed to corroborate what Mr. Longbottom was saying. "We could have just been the first Order members she came across, though somehow I doubt it. Nevertheless, it was vital that she not find out what we knew. Can you imagine what the Death Eaters would have been capable of if Bellatrix had been able to spread the word that Voldemort was not actually dead?" Harry had a sudden image of these two people, young and strong, valiantly enduring the Cruciatus curse, so determined that Bellatrix Lestrange not get that information, that they sacrificed their very sanity.
Harry saw Alice Longbottom tremble convulsively out of the corner of his eye. "It could have been Pettigrew," he said suddenly, darting a look at Remus, whose eyes became steely at the mention of his former friend.
"We were sorry to hear about that, Remus," Alice remarked. "All your friends gone…and Sirius spending those needless years in Azkaban." Remus nodded thoughtfully in response.
"He's still out there too," Harry gritted his teeth, thinking of Peter Pettigrew. "Just like Lestrange." He felt an anger bubbling inside him, like a liquid just on the verge of coming to a boil. He would like nothing better than to eradicate the world of Voldemort for good, and then take on those two Death Eaters himself.
The anger seemed to set off some sort of chain reaction, and caused a sudden searing pain in his scar. Harry let out a breathy groan of pain, bending over slightly, his fingertips going automatically to his scar.
"Harry, are you all right?" Lupin said, rather loudly, in a warning tone. Neville had come to his feet again. Harry straightened, inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply.
"I'm all right," he assented, exchanging a questioning glance with Lupin.
"I think you should tell them," Lupin said gently. "They may be able to help you."
"We think there's another horcrux," Harry stated, watching Neville's jaw drop. "Instead of making seven horcruxes, he split his soul seven times and made eight."
"Where is the eighth horcrux then, Harry?" Frank asked seriously.
"In me."
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Bill had taken baby Ariane back to her mother, with the dazedly happy grandparents trailing along behind. The other Weasleys had drifted away - down to the cafeteria, Hermione assumed - with mumbled promises to return shortly. Finally, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny alone remained in the otherwise empty waiting area.
Hermione shifted around in her seat, sighed, and finally looked over at Ron and Ginny. "What do you think the Longbottoms wanted to see him about?" she asked. Ron shrugged, his eyes wide in a "you got me" sort of stare. Hermione glowered at him. "You're a lot of help."
"Hermione, what's the use in wondering about it? When Harry gets back, he'll tell us."
"I know," Hermione half-sighed, and stood, tucking her hands in the back pockets of her pants and beginning to circle the room aimlessly. "I wish I could have gone with him."
"I don't," Ron said matter of factly. "Don't you remember that time at Christmas that we were up there on that closed ward? It was really creepy." He shuddered at the memory.
"Ronald, it was tragic, not creepy," Hermione said, offended on behalf of Neville's parents.
"It was tragic and creepy," Ron insisted.
"Well, if they're wanting to speak to Harry, then they're not like that anymore," Hermione harrumphed, continuing to pace.
"You're making me dizzy," Ginny said in a grouchy voice, and stood up. "I'm going to get something to eat." Neither of the others really acknowledged her departure.
"It's just eating you up, isn't it?" Ron said, eying her with a grin.
"What are you talking about, Ron?" Hermione asked in exasperation.
"That you're not with Harry, finding out what's going on. It's driving you crazy."
"I am perfectly capable of waiting until Harry gets back," Hermione said snippily, and sat back down abruptly, as if determined to prove him wrong. Ron snorted at her, but subsided.
"Hard to believe it's been almost a year since they brought us here," she remarked softly, a moment later.
"Oh, yes, there's a beautiful memory to bring up," Ron said sarcastically. Hermione seemed to be looking at something far away, and was twirling a strand of her hair through her fingers distractedly.
"I was so afraid," was all she said. Ron glanced at her sharply, as if he knew just what she meant.
"We all were."
"I thought…if - if Harry actually made it out of there alive, that he'd - that he'd never be the same again."
"I don't think anyone is the same, Hermione," Ron's voice sounded uncharacteristically gentle.
"I mean, but when - you know, he's still Harry. I was afraid that - he'd be… different, maybe, maybe altered, more like - like him, you know…if he had to - since he had to - " she sighed, frustrated that she could not better articulate her thoughts. "But he's really not different - still Harry…"
"Coexisting with a piece of Voldemort's soul," Ron added darkly, and Hermione's gaze shot up to meet his, troubled.
"I - I haven't found anything, Ron, not anything of any real value," she said, with the air of one confessing a misdeed. "I - I - what if we can't fix it?"
"Of course you're going to fix it. When have you ever failed at anything?" Ron said, trying to reassure her. A quiet sob escaped her lips so suddenly, that she clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise.
"I failed him," she answered softly.
"I thought you were both past that now," Ron asked, leaning toward her, a bewildered look on his face. "You were in our flat this morning."
"We're…better," Hermione agreed, drawing her knees up under her chin, in the chair where she sat. "I'm just - I'm worried about him. About what's going to happen."
"Harry's defeated the Darkest wizard of our time - twice…I wouldn't give up on him just yet," Ron said, in a rather cheerful voice. Both of them ignored the fact that Harry hadn't really fully defeated him, at least not yet.
"Did you think he'd be able to do it - defeat Voldemort, I mean?" Ron looked caught off guard.
"Well…I - that is, Harry's always been able to do things that ordinary wizards couldn't," he stammered. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
"That's not really an answer."
"Why are you asking me that?" Ron protested.
"Now you're dodging the question."
"Look at what kind of question it is!" Ron's voice rose. "You're asking me whether or not I had faith in my best friend."
"Did you?"
"Did you?" Ron echoed back, and they stopped for a minute, glaring at each other.
"I - I hoped he would win," Hermione finally said in a soft, hesitant voice, "But I was afraid that he wouldn't." Ron seemed to sag a little at her admission.
"So was I," he agreed.
There was a long silence, in which they could vaguely hear the bustling sounds of a busy hospital, sounding very far away.
"I - I'm just scared that - that this time… maybe Harry's - I mean, how many times can he dodge Death?" Hermione said, and the edge of her voice was ragged with despair. Ron glanced at her with a little shock.
"Hermione, you don't mean that." It was phrased almost like a question.
"Do you know what he's doing? Do you?" Hermione demanded. "Do you know why we're back together?"
"Because you both apologized?" Ron ventured.
"Because he's getting ready to die, Ronald!" The words rang out, harsh and discordant, in the empty room, and Ron winced. Hermione lowered her head into her hands. "He's getting ready to die, and he didn't want to leave still mad at me."
"Hermione, that's not - " Ron began.
"No, I think he really meant it when he forgave me, and I'm so glad that we're not apart any more, but he - he just has this - this look on his face every now and then, like he's looking over some far horizon that I can't even see, and it's - it's like…" she trailed off.
"But - but look what he did last time. He did win; he did survive. He could do it again," Ron said hopefully.
"This time it's so easy though," Hermione's voice was a nearly broken whisper. "Last time, he had to fight, he had to kill. This time….he just has to die, and it finishes everything….everything. Why risk something going wrong, and Voldemort coming back, when death - when death - ?" She seemed to be struggling to continue.
"Hey, hey," Ron murmured softly, holding out his arms to her. She sank gratefully into them, and leaned her head on his shoulder, sniffling softly to herself. "I know that it is against your very nature to believe in anything that you can't see for yourself or read in black and white…but you know Harry, he's been doing the fantastic and outrageous since he was a baby. Don't give up. And don't let Harry see you upset." He rubbed her back soothingly.
Hermione straightened up a little, and wiped at her cheeks. "I haven't been…I - I won't," she said. "I'm sorry - I guess I - I guess I just needed to vent a little."
"What are best friends for if you can't yell at them and cry on them every now and then," Ron said with a shrug, and Hermione smiled a watery smile at him.
"Thanks, Ron," she said. "For being here."
"Don't mention it," he said, standing and holding out his hand to help her up. "Let's go get something to eat. I'm starved."
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"Voldemort made you into a horcrux?" Mr. Longbottom repeated slowly. Harry thought that Neville's eyes were going to bug out of his head, and he might have laughed, if the situation hadn't been so deadly serious. "All our research showed that it was impossible to make a living thing into a horcrux. It had to be an object…preferably a naturally occurring material, some sort of metal or a gemstone."
For one brief, shining instant, Harry felt hope well up inside him, but just as quickly, it ebbed away and died. "No, you can make living things into horcruxes. Voldemort made his familiar into one - his snake, Nagini…we - we killed it last summer."
Mr. Longbottom was shaking his head, and he muttered something that sounded like, "Curious, very curious." Harry exchanged bewildered looks with Remus Lupin.
"Sir…Mr. Longbottom," Harry stammered. "We found this - this brooch that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw at my house, and we - we thought…" he proceeded to outline his and Hermione's theory about what happened to the brooch. "But it wasn't one. And then I - I started having nightmares, feeling emotions that weren't mine, speaking in Parseltongue."
"Why would he turn his snake into a horcrux?" Frank Longbottom said slowly, as if he had not heard Harry at all.
"We - we thought - Dumbledore thought that it was later, after he came back, to fill out the required number… that Voldemort had been intending to use me as the death to create a horcrux, with the brooch, but it didn't work, because I - I didn't die."
"And you ended up as a horcrux instead," Mr. Longbottom finished, and Harry looked at him with dumbfounded shock. How had they not thought of this before? They had just assumed that because the number seven was involved that the creation of the horcrux had been intended. But he hadn't been made into a horcrux by design, but by accident. "The horcrux requires use of a ritual spell, channeled through a silver knife, instead of a wand, said at some point before the killing occurs. If the spell had been cast, but then the killing curse somehow backfired on Voldemort, perhaps the feedback created a horcrux in you." Harry noticed Mr. Longbottom's hand twitching even more violently on the coverlet, until he finally stilled it with his other hand. Harry shook his head again.
"My - my mum…she - she wouldn't move out of the way - out from in front of me. He kept telling her to stand aside." Even as he spoke, the scream echoed in his ears, and he had to restrain an odd urge to throw back his head and laugh in triumph.
"Ah," Mr. Longbottom said, in a voice of comprehension. "Voldemort killed her after beginning the horcrux spell, when he was intending to kill you, thus already completing the murder necessary to create a horcrux. As for the fact that you survived a killing curse, that's - "
"Very old magic," Harry supplied for him, and they smiled awkwardly at each other. There was a moment of silence, while Harry tried to digest this new information.
"I guess that makes sense," Lupin said, finally breaking the silence. "If Voldemort actually knew you were a horcrux, why would he have spent the last seven years trying to kill you?"
"It also makes Professor Trelawney's prophecy kind of pointless," Harry said slowly, recalling his and Dumbledore's discussion on whether or not prophecies were self-fulfilling, once people tried to live within the constraints of one. He got a sudden light in his eyes, as if he had just thought of something.
"The spell that you cast… to make a horcrux…" Harry began eagerly. "Is it the Readunatio Animae?" Mr. Longbottom looked at Harry in total bewilderment.
"The Readunatio Animae?" He echoed. "Harry…where did you hear about that?"
"In my head," Harry admitted slowly, feeling like a freak. "I - I - the Parseltongue…"
"It's not a spell at all. It's -"
"That is quite enough for today," came a voice from behind them. They turned slowly to see a very angry looking healer standing in the doorway, charts in hand. "Mr. Lupin, when I said you could come in, I certainly did not intend for you to bring additional guests with you. Need I remind you that these people have been bedridden and non-functional for seventeen years? They do not need to be worn to a complete frazzle on their first day back! Now, if you will both please leave at once. You may return tomorrow, if everything goes well."
Lupin laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, when Harry looked like he might argue with the healer. He exchanged a knowing glance with Augusta Longbottom. "You and Neville be careful. The Aurors will have a guard posted - and the Order will probably have someone on hand as well." Neville's grandmother nodded regally.
Harry still looked like he wanted to protest, as Lupin steered him toward the door, in a fashion that brooked no argument.
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"Well, Weaselina," drawled a familiar voice from behind Ginny, as she reached across the counter for the drink that the serving-witch was handing to her. She felt her spine grow rigid and her shoulders hunch up, at the mere sound.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Malfoy?" Ginny asked, in a voice that implied that it was exactly the opposite.
"Mother needed to see a healer to get a refill on her headache potion," Draco said in a bored voice.
"You ought to just leave on your own," she remarked, and Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her.
"Ah, the stinging wit of a Weasley! I may never recover." He put his hand over his head, and mimed being pierced to the heart, marring the effect by rolling his eyes at the end.
"So, you just decided to come over here, have some sport with a Weasley, while mingling with the commoners?" Ginny asked, looking pointedly at the nondescript cafeteria tray he was holding. Draco's face maintained its haughty demeanor, but something urgent flickered in his eyes.
"There's something you should know," he said in a low voice. "Keep acting like you don't want me around, in case anyone is watching."
"I hate to break it to you, Malfoy, but that's not pretense. I really don't want you around."
"Funny," Malfoy said, insincerely, and Ginny made a face at him. "My aunt was up at the manor this morning." Ginny's face suddenly changed, and she nearly dropped her drink.
"B -- Bellatrix?" she asked.
"Weasley!" he hissed at her in alarm; her face had gone very pale, and he'd grabbed her upper arm. "What happened to the acting? Of course it's Aunt Bellatrix. I wouldn't think you'd be concerned about the comings and goings of Aunt Andromeda…not that Mother would receive her, if she showed up anyway."
"But she'll receive Bellatrix?" Ginny asked, wrenching herself out of his grasp, and regaining a trace of her asperity.
"I never said I agreed with my mother's taste in guests," Malfoy said, a trifle defensively.
"You never said you didn't, either," Ginny countered. "Burn your candle at both ends long enough, and you're going to be burned, Malfoy."
"The Wisdom of Ginny Weasley. Should I write that down?"
"Did you hear anything worth knowing, Malfoy? Or should I call my brothers? They're all here somewhere, you know." Malfoy ignored her jibe.
"I didn't hear much. They were talking in pretty guarded language anyway. But Aunt Bella said something about Harry and what Wormtail overheard. Then she said something about finally getting her hands on - something Latin, I couldn't make it out…"
"The Readunatio Animae?" Ginny parroted in a wooden voice. Draco slanted an odd look at her.
"That sounds like it… Mum laughed, and said, `So that was you? I should have known.' Aunt Bella said, `It's going to be soon. And you can say you knew me when.' Mum asked, `How are you going to get him?' and Aunt Bella said, `We're going to use his greatest weakness against him.' Then they must have heard a board creak or something, because they stopped talking about it. Aunt Bella said she needed to be going, before the Aurors tracked her to the manor."
"What did you do?" Ginny asked, curiously.
"Got the hell out of there, what did you think I did? Aunt Bella's killed people for less than that." Draco's voice was serious, and Ginny made a `why am I surprised?' face. His eyes drifted suddenly over Ginny's shoulder, and he said, "There's Mum. I've got to go. Tell them, will you?"
"I will," Ginny said solemnly, then surprised them both, by reaching out and grabbing his wrist with one hand. He jerked his gaze up to hers, startled, but did not make his customary snide comment. "Be careful, Draco," she said, suddenly, his given name sounding odd and out of place on her lips.
He nodded once, jerkily, and moved smoothly away from her, winding his way toward a sleek, blond woman, who was looking imperiously around the room. By the time her son reached her side, Ginny had exited the cafeteria, and was fleeing for the Maternity waiting area, as if the hounds of hell were after her.
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The four of them sat around aimlessly in Ron and Harry's flat later that night, exchanging glances that were alternatingly meaningful, afraid, and frustrated. Hermione had the leather portfolio on her lap, but she had not actually looked at it in quite some time.
"That's exactly what he said, Ginny?" Harry said, for what felt like the hundredth time. "There was nothing about when or where?"
"Harry, I've told you everything exactly as Malfoy told me," Ginny said, in a voice that managed not to be exasperated. He smiled at her apologetically, and she returned it.
"Mr. Longbottom told you it wasn't a spell," Hermione said, half to herself. "And Bellatrix Lestrange told Mrs. Malfoy that she'd gotten her hands on it. `So that was you'…." She murmured, quoting from Ginny's narrative. Suddenly she straightened up, shoving the portfolio to the floor. "Half a minute!" She called, as she dashed into the kitchen.
Harry and Ron looked at each other, as if to say "there she goes again". Just a moment later, she was back in the living room, unfurling that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Ron, do you remember that article you asked about this morning? The one about the theft from the Athens Wizarding Museum?"
"Er…yeah," Ron said doubtfully, not bothering to correct Hermione.
Hermione handed the paper to Harry, tapping the article in question. "That's the Readunatio Animae. I'd wager my first year's salary on it."
"So what are they going to do with it?" Harry asked. "It doesn't say anything in here about what the amphora actually does, just that it was used in ancient rituals."
"We need to talk to Mr. Longbottom again," Hermione answered, a faint crease marring her brow. "He actually knew that it wasn't a spell. Maybe he'll know how to use it." She slid closer to Harry on the sofa, and laid her head on his shoulder. "I think they need it so they can come - to come for the horcrux."
"How do they even know about the horcrux?" Ron asked. "If Neville's dad is right, and Voldemort made Harry a horcrux by accident…then how would any of the Death Eaters even know that it existed?"
Ginny had been sitting silently up to that point, seemingly lost in thought, but at Ron's question, she stiffened, as if she had suddenly remembered something. "Hang on! Malfoy said that his Aunt said something about Wormtail overhearing something. Perhaps he heard about the horcrux, and brought the information back to her."
"Wormtail?" Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust, obviously still thinking about Scabbers and the loathsome man that he had called his pet for years. "Where's he been?"
Hermione suddenly caught Ginny's train of thought. "Where were there a lot of mice running about?"
The four of them looked at each other in a kind of horror.
"And where did I start spouting off Parseltongue and talking rubbish about the Readunatio Animae?" Harry said, in a very tired voice. "He was there - he was there, all along…listening. He went and told Bellatrix, and she knew where it was, or found out where it was, and stole it."
"Why would he be listening?" Ron persisted. "If, for all they know, Voldemort's dead, what reason have they got to follow you around?"
"Maybe Lestrange doesn't want to make the same mistake again," Hermione pointed out. "Last time, she tortured the Longbottoms for information and couldn't get it…so she assumed that whatever she'd heard about horcruxes had been erroneous, and that her master was dead. She was wrong. So she sent that scurvy little…." Hermione grimaced and shook her head, "to make sure there wasn't any hope of bringing him back."
"What of revenge?" Ginny asked. "He could have been following Harry for some kind of revenge plot against him."
"Until I gave them information about something that would be even better," Harry said dully. "My death and the return of their Dark Lord. It's like their bloody dream come true. What are they waiting for?"
"They had to get the Readunatio Animae first. Perhaps they don't know exactly how to go about extracting a horcrux, either," Hermione said slowly. They all looked at each other. The Longbottoms were in grave danger, if this were the case. "There are guards, right, Harry?" She asked slowly, and Harry knew what she was talking about.
"Yes, I heard Remus tell Neville's gran…from the Ministry and the Order," Harry nodded, and Hermione smiled. "What would they need to know about extraction? Kill me and get the horcrux, right?"
"That's what you do if you want to destroy the horcrux," Hermione corrected him, "not if you want to remove the horcrux and use it. I've gathered that much from my research. The silver knife comes into it again, but I'm not sure how."
"If you can extract the horcrux to use it, can you extract the horcrux to destroy it…without killing the person?" Ron asked, after a moment. He and Hermione exchanged a glance.
"I don't know," she admitted sadly. Then she also pointed out, "Malfoy said that they were going to use your greatest weakness against you. Maybe they're also waiting to find out what that is….what?" At the last part of her sentence, she had looked up to find all three pairs of eyes on her.
"Hermione, you're my greatest weakness," Harry said gently. "And I'm sure that Bellatrix has already found that out." His gaze seemed far away, and Ron was forcibly reminded of what Hermione had said that afternoon about distant horizons. "You know what that means. I can't risk any of you getting hurt. Especially you," he looked at his girlfriend, his lover, with tenderness, reaching one hand up to cup her cheek.
"Harry…" she whispered, the sound of a thousand tragedies wrapped up in the way her voice spoke his name.
Harry rose slowly from the sofa, gripping his cane in one hand. "It's really late," he said, mostly to Ginny, as their guest, by way of apology. "And there's loads to do, before…" he trailed off, and the look of faux-confidence on his face faltered. Ginny and Ron looked at each other uncomfortably, while Hermione's eyes followed Harry's miserably.
"Harry, wait, please…" she said, following him out of the room. Ginny and Ron heard the door to his bedroom slam, and then they heard muffled voices raised in argument. After a while, one of them must have cast a silencing charm, for they heard nothing else.
"Ron, is he - is he really going to - ?" Ginny ventured, after what seemed like an eternity of thunderous silence.
"Not if Hermione has anything to say about it," Ron quipped, his eyes trailing down the corridor, but his voice was grim.
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"What do you want me to do, Hermione?" Harry said, turning toward her as she slammed the door hurriedly behind them. "You want me to wait until they come after you…until they resurrect Voldemort? You know what they'll do to me after they've got what they wanted." Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, and nodded. She knew. "And then, Voldemort's back, and I'm dead, Dumbledore's dead… everything that everyone's fought for is in vain. I can't let that happen."
"We don't know when they…we could still have time," Hermione said, her voice sounding uncharacteristically feeble and hesitant.
"Time? Time? Hermione, we've had months…and we've got nothing. It's too big a risk."
"Your life is too high a price!" Hermione countered, nearly yelling. Harry looked at her then, and the ghost of a smile traced its way across his face.
"For the hundreds of lives that may be saved in return? You don't believe that."
"But you're the one that matters the most to me," she whispered back. She noticed what he was doing…throwing random items haphazardly into a bag. "What are you doing?" He raised one eyebrow at her nearly hysterical sounding voice, and cast a Silencio charm at the door.
"I'm leaving. I'm not putting you or Ron in danger."
"Where will you go?" Hermione asked mildly. Harry got the feeling that she had not given up the argument, but was letting it pass for now to assuage her curiosity.
"I - I don't know…maybe Grimmauld Place," he said, in an off-hand tone.
"They know about Grimmauld Place," Hermione pointed out.
"I won't be there long," he said, and he wouldn't meet her eyes. She sank down on the edge of the bed, as a shudder vibrated through her frame.
"Hermione," he sat down next to her, and tried to pull at her chin to get her to look at him. "Hermione, you knew this might be the only way."
"I don't know that this is the only option left!" Her voice sounded muffled. "I - I don't want this to be over…I don't want you to - to - "
"I don't want to leave you. But I don't want them to hurt you, either." He whispered back.
"Stay with me, please. One more night," she pleaded, kissing him lightly in between words.
"Hermione - " he protested against her mouth, but lured in by the sweetness of her kisses. "It's too dangerous."
"If you stay….with me, it won't be…dangerous," she said, kissing him again. "I'll go with you to St. Mungo's to speak with Mr. Longbottom again, and - " Harry had moved away, and was shaking his head.
"Come on, Harry! One more conversation with Mr. Longbottom to make sure we've covered every possibility, and then…" she swallowed convulsively. "And then, I - you can do whatever you need to do."
He looked at her for a long time, his green eyes seeming to plumb the depths of her soul. "All right," he finally conceded. "One more day." Doubt shadowed his face, but he pushed it aside, and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her gently.
"I love you, Harry. I love you so much," she murmured beneath his lips. "It's - it's not fair."
"No, it's not," he said, looking into her eyes apologetically. "I'm sorry - " She laughed a little, and it hiccupped into a sob.
"I'm not mad at you, you idiot," she said fondly. "I - I - I'm mad at whoever's taking you away from me."
"Then you are mad at me," Harry said, smiling a little. Hermione managed a slight twisted smile, before it wavered and vanished from her face.
"I know you wouldn't go unless you had to," she admitted softly. He kissed her again, a long, deep kiss, as he scooped her up against him.
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered raggedly as his breathing accelerated. Slowly, he pushed her down onto the bed, and she locked her arms around his neck.
"I want to put your ring on my left hand," she blurted suddenly, causing him to stop unbuttoning her shirt, and look at her in bewilderment.
"What?" he asked. "Hermione - I don't mind, but I don't really see the point." Her eyes swam with tears, and she tried to speak without her voice breaking.
"So I can have it - that moment. It will be mine, and nobody can take it away from me."
"But you already have that moment. I asked you at Christmas."
"And then we broke up. You have to ask me again," she said peremptorily, pushing him away from her. "But you don't have to get down on your knee, if you can't manage it," she said, in a tone meant to challenge.
"Take the charm off the ring," he said, and Hermione felt her heart speed up, for under the ordinary words, was an unmistakable undertone. She did so, and slid the ring from her right hand, handing it to him.
He got down on one knee - his good one - by the side of the bed, near to where Hermione sat on it.
"You have to make your pretty speech too," Hermione teased.
"I don't remember that speech!" Harry said in protest, feeling a lightness in his heart and struggling to hang onto it. He would just think of right now, not of where he was going to go or what he was going to do.
"You could make up a new one, if you can't remember the old one," Hermione said magnanimously.
"That's so kind of you," Harry muttered sarcastically. He held the ring in one hand, and knelt there motionless for so long, that Hermione began to regret that she'd said anything at all, thinking she'd forced him into something that he really didn't want to do.
"Hermione Granger, I love you," he said suddenly, his clear green eyes bespeaking the depth of his emotion. "You have always been there for me, always sure in your love for me - even when I wasn't so sure myself. You've been through a hard time this year, and I'm the reason for that, and I'm sorry." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but he hurried on, not allowing her to speak. "I wish - " he had trouble continuing, and took a few seconds to steady his voice. "I wish there was more time… I wish we had - " Hermione felt her chin tremble as she saw his eyes fill up with tears. "I - I will always love you…no matter what happens. I want to marry you, but I - I can't ask you - I won't ask for a commitment that I can't keep, not when I - when I'll - " Profound regret clogged his throat, and he could no longer speak.
"Ask me," she whispered hoarsely.
"Hermione - " his voice was a ragged protest, edged with despair. She put her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his beautiful face, willing him to ask her. He swallowed hard, and said, "Will you marry me?" His speech sounded blurred and nearly unintelligible.
Hermione's vision of him distorted and shimmered as she blinked back tears. "I love you, Harry Potter," she said, as she held out her left hand. He slid the ring onto the fourth finger, and she helped him up to sit beside her on the bed once again. He slumped there, his elbows on his knees, and she leaned against him, her arm draped across his back, as she felt his shoulders shake beneath her.
"Marry me now," she said, almost without thinking, surprising them both. "Tonight."
"Hermione, that's crazy," he said, recovering his composure, and looking at her as if she were certifiable.
"You and Ron are always telling me that I'm not spontaneous enough," she joked lightly, though tears still shone in her eyes.
"There's spontaneous, and then there's mad!"
"How is that mad? You asked me, and I accepted. Let's get married."
"Do you know what time it is? There won't be anywhere open."
"You're Harry Potter! Barge into the Ministry and wake someone up!" Hermione said, only half-joking.
"Yes, because that would be nice and inconspicuous, and I'm sure no Death Eaters would find out about that!" Harry shot back, wondering why he suddenly had all of Hermione's lines. Her face fell.
"I guess you're right," she said in a dismal voice, and Harry's heart melted.
"Look," he said gently, forcing her to look at him. "If this is really what you want…then we'll go out first thing in the morning, and find a Muggle chapel that can do the ceremony."
"I don't want to do this, if you don't want to," she said, in such a sulky voice that Harry laughed out loud.
"It's not that I don't want to marry you, Hermione, because I do. I just - I can't promise you forever, and I don't want to - don't want you to - " He sighed in frustration. "I don't want you to - to be sad after..." He finished lamely, and thought that there had to have been a better way to phrase it than that.
"Mr. Noble Martyr," Hermione said, her voice struggling through the words, though she smiled. "You'd be a tough act to follow for anyone, and I don't want to love anybody else but you. But I promise…I promise not to be miserable for the rest of my life…okay?"
"Okay," he whispered, and she blessed him wordlessly with her eyes. As she sank beneath him on the bed and gave herself up to his kiss, she couldn't help but think of the next day, and wonder if her biggest joy and her biggest heartbreak would occur before the sun set again.
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They dragged an unwilling Ron out of bed very early the next morning, laughing at his sullenness and refusing to tell him where they were going.
"Why the hell are you two so happy?" Ron said in a grumpy voice. He looked at them again, as Hermione drew one hand slowly up Harry's arm, and he leaned in for her kiss. "No, don't tell me," he said quickly, "because I don't want to know."
"Should be one more block," Hermione said, stopping at an intersection, and scrutinizing the street signs.
"Why couldn't we Apparate?" Ron whined.
"Because it's a Muggle place, and we've never been there before," Hermione said sharply. "And if
you want to, you can just Apparate right home. But you'll regret it." Ron slanted her a dubious look, but
continued along with them, mostly out of curiosity, Harry figured.
"Here it is!" She sang out in a pleased voice, a moment later. Ron stared at the little stone church without comprehension for a moment, and then looked at the two of them with dawning awareness in his eyes.
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "You are not!"
"We are, Ron," Harry said, putting his arm around Hermione and smiling. They were both smiling, but there was something - something flickering behind their eyes that could not be completely forgotten.
"Right," Ron said, in a voice that was gentle with understanding. "Thanks for wanting me to be here." Harry cleared his throat noisily.
"It wouldn't be the same without you, mate," he said.
They made their way up the little flagstone path to the church, and Harry hesitantly tried the doorhandle, which turned smoothly.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing in the vestibule. Slowly, they proceeded into the tiny nave.
"Are you the young couple that contacted me this morning?" said a voice suddenly, causing all three of them to jump.
"Yes," Hermione stammered. "Yes, we'd like to be married - please." Her hand was clinging tightly to Harry's.
"Very well…" the cleric said. "You have the necessary paperwork, I presume." Hermione handed over the neat, newly transfigured identification and papers, which the clergyman signed in the proper places. "If you will stand up here, and face each other." He then directed Ron where to sign, and then where to stand to witness the ceremony.
Later, nearly all Hermione would be able to recall was the look in Harry's eyes, a glowing look that told her how precious she was to him, without words…a look that seemed to be at once radiantly happy and infinitely regretful. His fingers were warm and sweaty around hers, and his voice trembled only slightly as he repeated the vows that the minister recited.
Hermione's voice sounded strong and clear, echoing oddly in her own ears, sounding somehow very far away. She felt the cold metal of a wedding band slide onto her finger, and she felt Harry's hand beneath hers as she placed his ring on his finger. And still there was the odd sensation that this was happening to someone else.
The time for the kiss had obviously arrived, though Hermione could not say that she had heard the cleric voice it. Harry leaned in to her, his hands barely resting on her hips, and kissed her. The kiss was slow and tender, and lingered only lightly on her lips.
"Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter," the minister said, really addressing just Ron, though he spoke as if presenting them to a packed congregation. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances and nervous laughs, as they collected the papers that said they were married, and walked with Ron out the front door of the church.
"This does not give you free rein to snog in front of me," Ron warned, and so Harry and Hermione promptly did.
"I wonder if Malfoy will still call me Granger?" Hermione wondered aloud.
"He should not be the first person you think of right after we get married," Harry replied with distaste, and Hermione laughed, kissing him again.
Ron walked a stride or two just behind them, watching their relaxed happiness with each other, and knew that most of it was pretense, each of them putting up a good front for the other. Come on, Harry, you can beat this, something inside him pleaded. Don't let it end this way.
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"Thank Merlin it's Saturday," Harry said, as he clumsily kicked the door of the bedroom open, and dumped Hermione somewhat unceremoniously onto the bed. "Thank Merlin Ron's bastard of a coach scheduled an additional practice today."
"Harry, we still have to go to St. Mungo's," Hermione chastised him, though she didn't really look as if her heart were in it.
"It's still early. We can go in a couple of hours," Harry said dismissively, though the somber light still lingered in his eyes. "I want to sleep with my wife."
Hermione watched him gravely, but her face formed a bright smile at his heartfelt statement. "I like the sound of that."
"So do I," he said, and there was a note of wistfulness in his voice.
"Harry - " she began, feeling uneasy that they were using precious time in such a self-seeking way. He put his hand over her mouth.
"There's nothing outside this room right now," he whispered. "There's no Voldemort, no eighth horcrux, no Death Eaters trying to look for me….there's nothing in the world, except you and me, husband and wife, right here, right now." He got into the bed with her, leaning on one elbow, looking into her eyes. Her hair fanned behind her on the pillow.
"Okay," she nodded at him. If this is what he wanted, then this is what she would give him. She kissed him then, as ardently as she knew how, and he pulled her into his arms, returning the kiss with fervor.
"I love you," she gasped.
"I love you too," he whispered back, reaching for his wand to perform the contraceptive charm, as she pulled the tail of his shirt out of his waistband.
"No," she said, suddenly, putting her hand up to push the wand away.
"Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked in confusion.
"No charm…not this time."
"Hermione," his voice sounded tired and irritated…and a little fearful. "You don't know what you're asking…I - I can't do this, and have you raise a child alone."
"I'm not pregnant, and you're not dead!" she said suddenly, fire flashing in her eyes. "If - if something does happen to - to y-you, I just want to know that we - we made the most of the opportunities we had." Her eyes were wide and appealing. "I know what I'm doing, Harry," she whispered throatily, her hands wandering lower. Harry groaned, and pulled her closer.
"You don't fight fair," he whispered, dropping the half-hearted argument completely, as her mouth closed over his.
TBC
There was a lot of information thrown at you in this chapter, so I tried to fluff it up at the end. This chapter was also mostly set up for the next chapter, so I hope everyone liked it okay. The next chapter should probably be where most of the action takes place, and then there may be another chapter or epilogue to tie it up.
Thanks so much for all the reviews for the last chapter…I was really overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. It was very awesome and gratifying, and maybe even a little bit humbling. Just wanted y'all to know how much they are appreciated.
You may leave a review on your way out if you like!
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