You'll Never Be Alone

Bingblot

Rating: G
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 10/11/2005
Last Updated: 10/11/2005
Status: Completed

I hope you realize you're never alone... H/Hr from Dumbledore and Lily's PoV. One-shot.

1. You'll Never Be Alone

Disclaimer: All things HP belong to JKR and no copyright infringement is intended, etc etc.

Author’s Note: Written for the hhr_serendipity ficathon on LiveJournal and first posted there. H/Hr from Sirius/Lily or Dumbledore’s PoV.

It begins with Dumbledore’s PoV and then the rest of the fic is in Lily’s PoV. Enjoy.

You’ll Never Be Alone

I know you don’t understand, Harry.

I can picture the horror on your face as you watched, helpless and invisible to everyone but me, once again forced to watch someone you cared for die.

I’m sorry you had to see that, Harry. I never wanted you to have to see it but as you know, that night didn’t happen according to my plans.

Ah, my plans…

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions and it might certainly be true in my case.

I have made so many mistakes, Harry, many of them regarding you.

My plans… like my ‘plan’ not to tell you about the Prophecy until I thought you were old enough, until I—foolishly weak old man as I was—felt ready to put yet another burden on your already over-burdened shoulders.

Ah, yes, but I am a foolish old man sometimes.

I know you don’t understand, that you blame Professor Snape. You will find out, though, what I knew then and could not tell you.

I was dying already. I could feel the potion working inside me, knew my organs were slowly ceasing to function properly. I told this to Professor Snape in that moment; you will remember that I am a not-unaccomplished Legilimens myself. I asked him to end my life quicker and more painlessly than the potion would, and then to continue on. Being seen to have killed me would put him more highly in Voldemort’s trust than just about anything else and would make him a more valuable spy for the Order than ever.

And Severus did as I asked, though I could see in the look of revulsion that crossed his face, just how much it went against his wishes.

And so I died.

I know you do not understand and I know you will grieve for me, more than I deserve, undoubtedly. I wish I could have told you, explained to you somehow, that it was my time and I do not regret it. It was my time to experience what I once called the next great adventure.

My only regret in that last moment before the Killing Curse hit me was of you, Harry, that I would not live to see the man I know you will become, that I would not live to witness the next adventures of your life.

I am sorry, Harry, sorry that I was not able to help you as much as I should have. I am sorry I assumed I would have more time to teach you what you will need to know. I am sorry that I will not be there to witness your triumph—and I do not doubt that you will triumph. There is a strength in you, a courage, an endurance—and there is the strength of your heart. I know you do not know it yet, do not understand the extent of the power which your heart, your ability to love, gives you—but it is there and because of it, I do not doubt that you will triumph.

I am sorry for all this but I am comforted in knowing that I do not leave you alone. I may not have taught you all that I could have—but you still have Miss Granger who can, if she only realizes it, teach you more than even I could have.

I hope you remember, Harry, that you are not alone. You have been blessed from your first year at Hogwarts with the friendship of Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger and I do not doubt that they will stay by your side as the best of friends should do.

It is a terrible thing to be alone—nearly as terrible as spending a cold winter’s night without a good pair of warm socks.

Ah, socks—they are a blessing beyond compare…

Again, my ill-timed levity appears. Excuse the ramblings of an old man, foolish in life and, apparently, equally foolish in death.

Remember you are not alone.

I hope you come to understand the power which your ability to love as deeply as you do gives you. It is the same sort of power your mother had, the same power that allowed her sacrifice to save your life the first time.

I hope Mr. Weasley learns that he, too, is blessed with a capacity for loyalty beyond that of many people, that his loyalty is his strength and his wisdom.

I hope Miss Granger realizes her own strength, to know that she should not fear the intensity of her feelings. I hope she realizes the reason she cares for you so deeply and thinks about you so constantly.

I hope you learn to see beyond the more obvious beauties of prettiness, athleticism and the sort of high-spirits not uncommon to popular girls in their youth.

I hope you learn to appreciate the true worth of all your friends.

I hope you learn to see and appreciate the aching, poignant beauty of devotion, of a girl who stayed up with you to teach you the Summoning Charm which would one day save your life, of a girl who was willing to go to a professor and have a gift to you taken away, braving your displeasure, because she feared a trick to hurt you… I hope you learn to see the beauty of intelligence shining in a girl’s eyes. I hope you learn that true beauty is within; true beauty comes from strength of mind and heart.

I hope you realize the incredibly precious gift that is selfless, sacrificing love—and learn that you’ve had that gift from the beginning…

And always remember, Harry, that there is no power on earth greater than the power of a truly selfless love.

If you realize and remember this, then I will know that all my hopes for you on leaving this earth were fulfilled.

~*~*~

Halloween 1981

“Avada Kedavra!”

A flash of green light—and the body of a mother fell to the ground, still holding her son in her lifeless arms.

Lily Potter’s spirit had left her body but she continued to hold her son in her substance-less arms.

The dreaded two words again and a gleam of terrible triumph in the cold, red eyes of Voldemort, a flash of green light—and then there was a burst of blinding white light, a last shriek that shook the foundations of the little house in Godric’s Hollow and the Dark Lord was gone.

Lily Potter felt the presence of her husband beside her and knew she had to leave Harry now—at least temporarily.

She looked at her son who blinked up at her with wide, terrified green eyes, unharmed except for a new, lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and blinked back tears.

He was alive, unharmed—somehow. And that was all that mattered.

She bent and brushed her lips gently over the new mark on his forehead, saying a silent Goodbye and making a last promise…

You’ll never be alone.

You were the last thing I saw, in that moment, just as you were the last thing I thought of.

Do you realize, do you know, how much I loved you? How much I love you still? It is my one wish- if spirits can be said to have wishes- that you know how much you are loved and that you’re never alone. You will never be alone.

Your father and I have always been with you, watching over you. We could not help you or let you know that we were there or comfort you in all the times you were sad- thanks to the detestable treatment of my sister and her worthless husband—but we were there…

We were there for it all; we’ve watched you grow up these 16 years without us.

Your father was grinning like an idiot when you first kissed that girl, Cho, and again when you kissed Ginny—and even I had to smile. You two looked so much like your father and me in that one moment…

But only for that moment.

I wondered as I watched you with her afterwards, wondered why you never seemed to talk to her about anything serious, wondered why, for all I know you didn’t realize it, you kept yourself apart from her, not giving everything…

But now I know.

It is terrible that it takes an event like this to make people understand. It is terrible that it takes tragedy to strip away the masks we normally wear, the walls behind which we hide our most secret, unacknowledged thoughts and feelings. But it is, unfortunately, a fact of our human life, that many times, it does take a tragedy…

I saw the way your face changed, grew pale and grim when you saw Hestia Jones and Elphias Doge enter the Burrow’s living room and interrupt Bill and Fleur’s wedding by taking Hermione outside for a private word.

I saw the way you ran out of the room when you heard Hermione’s strangled cry and saw the pain in your eyes as you watched her refrain from tears and leave, quietly, with Hestia.

Elphias stayed behind to explain, quietly, to Remus what had happened and then left, to follow Hestia.

Hermione was pale and drawn when she returned to the Burrow late that night, long after everyone had gone to bed.

Bill and Fleur had left on what little honeymoon they would have and everyone attempted to hide their worry and fear behind forced smiles and conversation, carefully avoiding the mention of the interruption to the ceremony. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had wanted to wait but Harry insisted they go up, saying that he was sure Hermione would much rather be alone when she came back and that he and Ron would stay up for her.

Harry and Ron didn’t talk as they waited, Harry only getting up and pacing every once in a while and Ron staring silently out the dark window.

Then Hermione came in and both got up, though Ron was the only one to speak, his voice sounding overly loud in the silence of the house, though it was softer than his normal speaking voice. “Are your parents okay?”

Her face crumpled and she turned into his arms for comfort for a few moments as Harry watched in helpless sympathy, as he put his arm around her.

After a few moments, though, Hermione moved away, wiping tears away from her eyes.

“The healers think they’re going to be fine—but they’re both unconscious still.” Her breath hitched in her throat.

“I- I’m sorry, Hermione. I can imagine how you must feel,” Ron said softly, awkwardly, rubbing her back in a gesture that was meant to be comforting.

Her head came up, her eyes flashing suddenly. “Don’t say that! You don’t know! You can’t know! Your parents are fine! You haven’t just said goodbye to them, maybe forever, in a letter! You don’t have the slightest idea how I feel right now!” She spoke rapidly, forcibly keeping her voice low because of the late hour but the harshness of her tone was unmistakable.

Ron flinched, his hand dropping, as he moved away from her.

Hermione slumped and sighed. “I’m sorry, Ron. I shouldn’t have said that. I- I just- I’m just stressed and- and I don’t know what got into me.”

Lily sighed softly as she watched, filled with compassion for Hermione, suddenly thinking how very- young- the girl still was. So very young for this sort of thing, so very young to have to make this sort of decision… And yet, she had made it. Lily could see it in Hermione’s eyes.

“It’s okay,” Ron said but his face was pale and he didn’t move closer to her, as he’d been before her outburst.

Harry spoke now for the first time, his voice quiet but filled with sympathy and, yes, understanding too. “You left them a letter?”

Lily wished desperately, not for the first time, that she could put her arms around her son and hold him at that moment. Of course he understood… it was perhaps one thing Harry knew better than anyone else, that of having to say goodbye to one’s parents, of having to move on without them…

Hermione looked up at him and met his eyes. “The Order is putting them under a Muggle Protection Program, giving them different identities and hiding them to protect them against another attack.” Her face quivered slightly as she added, softly, “As long as they’re known as the Grangers and my parents, they’re in danger.” She looked back up at Harry. “The Order told me I could choose to go in hiding with my parents, that otherwise, I’d lose all contact with them—until the end of the war. No owls, no calls, no letters even through the Muggle post—I won’t know where they are and they won’t know where I am or if I’m safe…” Her voice trembled as she said this.

Harry nodded, looking away to stare blankly at the wall for a long moment before he said, quietly, in a voice that was expressive of intense, suppressed emotion, still not looking at her, “Go stay with your parents. It’s okay. You should—you should be with your parents; it’s where you belong.”

She didn’t move for a moment as she looked at him and tears welled up in her eyes again but when she spoke, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty, in her voice. “No.”

Now he looked at her, staring at her, reluctant hope, fear, confusion, doubt, uncertainty warring in his eyes.

“I already made my decision, Harry, when I was at St. Mungo’s. I left them a letter and I told them.” Her voice faltered but she continued on bravely. “I told them I loved them, that I would always love them—but that there were things I needed to do, other places I needed to be. I told them not to worry about me too much, that I’d be fine—and I would see them as soon as I could. And then I said goodbye.”

“Wh- why?” The question fell from Harry’s lips and Lily could see that he hadn’t consciously meant to ask it.

She met his eyes honestly, naked emotion clear to be seen on her face. “I won’t leave you alone,” she said simply.

Ron stared from Hermione to Harry and Lily felt her heart break at the dawning understanding, mixed with pain, on his face, even as she understood herself what she should have seen all along.

Ron was pale but there was a new understanding, resignation, in his eyes as he looked between his two best friends in that moment—and Lily saw that he accepted what he’d just seen and what it meant, and felt a surge of maternal affection for the boy who seemed to have become a young man in the space of the last few minutes.

Hermione might—and did—care for Ron and like him as more than just a friend, the first tentative feelings of a girl for a boy she thought she was attracted to—but those feelings were eclipsed by the single-mindedness of her loyalty and, yes, love, for Harry… That no matter how much Hermione cared about Ron, Harry came first—somehow—in her mind and heart…

Harry was still staring at Hermione, as if he couldn’t comprehend what he’d just heard. And Lily realized, he probably couldn’t. He still, after all these years, had difficulty understanding how much people could and did care for him—and she knew another moment of fury at her sister and her sister’s husband for their heartless treatment of Harry that had left Harry so uncertain of himself when it came to how much others cared for him.

And looking at Hermione, she knew the girl understood, too, that it wasn’t time now, to tell Harry the truth of the feelings which she herself had just acknowledged and accepted.

Lily looked on Hermione with new eyes—recognizing the expression on the girl’s face, the depth of loyalty, of caring, of love… She understood the words Hermione hadn’t said aloud but had thought, the place I belong is with you. Anywhere you are, by your side, is where I belong and where I want to be—always.

It was much the same as what she felt for Harry—only different.

It wasn’t the love of a mother for her son—but simply love, the love of a girl- no, young woman- for the one boy in all the world whom she would do anything for. She felt James’ presence beside her at that moment and realized he’d slipped into the room as well and leaned into him. Yes, she understood Hermione’s feelings; it was exactly what she felt for James…

Harry may not have completely realized it then, although there was the beginning of something in his eyes as he looked at Hermione, but he loved Hermione too.

Of course he loved Hermione. Hermione was the person he trusted the most, the person he relied on for help, the person he’d automatically, instinctively tried to protect and shield from danger when they’d been in the Department of Mysteries… And he would realize it… someday…

“I- thank you,” he said lamely, looking- as Lily was sure he felt- miserably uncomfortable and wishing he could think of better words to say.

“You should say, I love you too,” James spoke up, addressing his son even though he knew perfectly well Harry couldn’t hear him, the lightness of his words belying the somber expression on his face as he looked down at Harry.

Lily nudged James but couldn’t help smiling. “He does love her, doesn’t he?” she asked James softly—and it was hardly a question.

“Yes, he does—and he’s just beginning to realize it too…” James paused and then grinned at Lily. “He’ll realize it completely soon; he’s a Potter; we don’t have any idiots in the family.”

Lily swatted at him teasingly, laughing softly, feeling infinitely more cheerful as James had always been able to do.

“Come on, we can leave them alone for now,” James said softly.

Lily nodded and looked again at her son and the girl who loved him. Yes, they would be fine for now…

And she would continue her silent vigil watching over him later… to see how and when Harry would wake up to the truth of his feelings for the girl who’d been his best friend for so many years.

I know I should not linger like this; it is not usual for spirits to linger so long and so much in the world we left behind. But parents who leave behind young children are permitted to linger, to continue to watch over their children and so I’ve watched over you.

I’ve watched over you through most of the biggest events of your life and I will continue to do so until it is time for me to leave for good.

But my task is not finished yet…

Harry was staring at Hermione as if he’d never seen her before, his eyes burning with an expression Lily recognized and she nodded to herself.

Yes, it was time now…

His hands caressed Hermione’s hand, lying so still on the bed, as he waited and watched over her until the softest of sounds, something between a moan and a whimper, escaped Hermione’s lips and he jerked upright.

“Hermione? Hermione, can you hear me?”

Very slowly, Hermione’s eyes fluttered open and she saw him.

Lily could hear the sound of Madam Pomfrey’s footsteps hurrying towards the Infirmary and silently wished Madam Pomfrey would slow down, would be distracted, to give Harry and Hermione at least a few more minutes. As if on cue, she heard the faint sound of Madam Pomfrey’s footsteps pausing and then retreating and smiled, saying a silent thank you to the Powers That Be for hearing and granting her wish. It was the only thing she could do for Harry and Hermione now—give them more time…

“Harry…” Hermione’s voice was a mere thread of sound and he bent closer to her to hear the very faint words she managed to force out. “Is… it… over?”

He blinked back tears and managed a slight smile. “Yes, it’s over. The spell worked; Voldemort’s gone, for good.”

She nodded just a little and Harry stumbled on, knowing he needed to tell her now.

“I- it’s you, Hermione. It’s always been you… You—I love you… I- I think I always have; I just didn’t know it, didn’t see it—until I woke up and- and—I thought you were dead…” His voice cracked and he swallowed hard. “I thought you were dead, dead because of the spell, because you’d helped me, and I wanted to give up. I didn’t care about anything—not even that Voldemort was gone—nothing mattered to me, without you… I- I needed to tell you; need you to know…”

There were tears in Hermione’s and in Lily’s eyes and Lily watched, waited, for Hermione’s response.

“I know…” Hermione finally said softly. “I did know… And I love you too…”

Lily smiled and turned away as Harry bent closer to Hermione and kissed her, gently, tenderly…

Now she could leave. Now Harry truly knew that he wasn’t alone, that he would never be alone. Now he could understand how she and James had willingly sacrificed their lives for his sake. Now her task was done.

~*~*~

Several years later…

“I now pronounce you man and wife.”

Harry and Hermione turned to face the small group of their nearest and dearest who had come to see them be married today as the presiding wizard announced, “Ladies and gentleman, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter.”

Hermione smiled and then leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, “Mr. and Mrs. Hermione Granger.”

He laughed softly at this running joke between them and kissed her and they turned, first, to hug Ron in an awkward three-person hug.

Ron lifted Hermione off her feet, making her laugh, before he turned to Harry, embracing his best friend fully and then grinning at both of them.

Harry and Hermione turned next to Hermione’s parents and then to the Weasleys and then Remus…

It was a happy day, the happiest of days, as the friendship and the love that had already endured so much was affirmed in the eyes of the rest of the world.

And somewhere, above the earth, four more people were watching and smiling.

An old man with half-moon glasses and a long grey beard, nodded once at this realization of all his hopes at the end of his life.

A younger man grinned and nodded in satisfaction as well, pausing to nudge his best friend and ask teasingly, “What is it with you Potters and Muggle-born witches?”

And a mother and father smiled as they watched their son, finally happy…

They knew that now, finally, their task was done and they could rest. Harry wasn’t alone; he had his true partner, his best friend, his wife, and she would love him and protect him and stay beside him, as she always had… Whatever the future held in store, they would face it together.

With a last smile and a last silent, unseen blessing on the boy they all loved and had been watching over for so many years, they turned walking deeper into the light, to bide their time.

You’ll never be alone…

~The End~