A/N - Well, here it is! I'm really sorry it took so long for this chapter, but I hope you like it!
Update: I' m really sorry! I put the chapter up last night, everything was just smashing and several people read it. But it seems that something went wrong after midnight and the chapter wasn't showing up anymore!
Over the next several weeks Harry and Hermione fell into a pattern of sorts. Hermione still had to work, of course, but Harry would visit her at least once a day at St. Mungo's. Oftentimes he would stop by the Ministry to see Ron as well. They also spent each Friday night out with Ron, Charlotte and their friends at the pub.
Harry was absorbed as ever in his woodworking and music and frequently played for Hermione. Ron had even persuaded him to play in the pub one night, which turned out to be a tremendous hit.
It was after this that Harry, flushed with excitement, pulled Hermione down to Diagon Alley and straight into Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The store was open all night, naturally. To "aid magical mischief makers in in any possible time of need". Or so George said. And Harry felt, well- a bit out of control. He wanted to cause some mayhem.
"Harry!" Fred called out heartily, striding over to clap him on the shoulder.
"Hey Fred," Harry said absently, busy inspecting the extraordinary, hilarious, mysterious and often downright bizarre merchandise. "What's this?"
Harry picked up what looked to be a plain leather glove and pulled it on his right hand. Immediately he pulled out his wand and starting tracing letters in the air. Shortly, recognizable words formed, spelling out the foulest insults Hermione had ever seen.
"Harry!" she reprimanded, pulling her wand out to wipe them away. But no matter how wildly she gesticulated they remained stubbornly bright and cheerful. Harry and Fred laughed as she tried, with increasing desperation, to erase the vile words.
"I think you just figured out yourself, Harry," Fred winked. "Relax, Hermione. You're going to do yourself harm."
Hermione glared furiously at him. With a great sight, Fred pulled out his wand and performed the counter-charm. Immediately the words faded and Harry was able to remove the glove, still grinning.
"Free of charge, Harry," Fred said generously. "Your Galleons are no good here."
"Oh, I couldn't-" Harry protested weakly. Fred overrode him easily and Harry grinned again, making to pocket the glove.
"I don't think so," Hermione interrupted primly, plucking the glove from his grasp and returning it to its shelf. Fred nudged Harry, his eyebrow raised.
"Oh, come on Hermione," he complained. "I'm just trying to have a little fun."
Whipped, Fred mouthed. Harry scowled in return and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"We can have fun without that," Hermione said severely. "Let's go over here."
"Here" turned out to be a corner filled with puzzles and games. Harry groaned as Hermione picked up a large, multi-colored box with a picture of Hogwarts on the front.
Days of delight and intrigue, the box read. Pit your brain and dexterity against a dizzying variety of puzzle, riddles, and action pieces. Solve them to reveal the true pieces of the puzzle. When complete you will own a realistic, scaled down model of Hogwarts complete with a mini Peeves. Perfect the the Hogwarts alum!
"This sounds very interesting," Hermione remarked. "Really, I'm impressed."
"Thank you," Fred replied modestly from behind. "Just for that, no charge for you either."
Harry was about to balk until he saw the fine print. Ages 14 and up. Sexual innuendo, coarse language and a smattering of explosions contained within. Face it, how fun could it be otherwise?
"Sounds good!" he said quickly, taking the box from Hermione and surreptitiously covering the warning with one of his hands. She looked at him suspiciously and he put on his most innocent expression.
So that was how Harry and Hermione found themselves bent over a puzzle, brows furrowed in concentration with shoulders and knees touching. Harry quickly became engrossed as it proved to be as far as possible from those ordinary muggle puzzles of stiff cardboard pieces. These pieces were made in all sorts of all sorts of bizarre shapes and sizes and materials. Some were three dimensional, others whirred and buzzed, and still others had riddles or puzzles on them and would only resolve into their correct shape when you solved them. There were pieces that really looked like they should go together but were just a smidgen off and if you tried to force them together there was a small, but definite, chance that the whole thing would explode. All told, a much more exciting experience than the Muggle counterpart.
"You know," Harry mused, frowning at a piece in his hand. "This looks a lot like Voldemort's last Horcrux."
Hermione, working on a piece that was flashing a pattern of lights that she surmised she had to repeat correctly, looked up in surprise. They seemed to be having such fun, but now Harry was visibly agitated.
"Harry?" she said tentatively, laying a hand on his arm and wondering where this was going. The muscles underneath were the slightest bit tensed and a pained expression crossed his face.
"You know, the funny thing is I could have made a Horcrux when I killed Voldemort," Harry said suddenly, with a grimace. "If I'd known the spell."
"But you wouldn't have!" Hermione replied in shock as he voiced the last thing she ever would have expected. "That's of the very Darkest magic!"
"Of course I wouldn't have," Harry waved a hand impatiently. "I'm not afraid of death. But that's not the point."
"I hated him, and I murdered him. I fulfilled all the requirements," Harry finished morosely. "I even had a container."
"You- what?" Hermione asked, distracted.
"I had a container," Harry repeated, pulling something out from a pocket. "I carried it around everywhere with me. Not for that, of course."
He handed something small over to Hermione silently. Almost reluctantly, she looked down and nearly dropped the object. She turned it over and over in her hands with a soft "oh!". When she looked up at Harry her brown eyes were very wide and vulnerable.
"You- you've been carrying this the whole time?" she asked, a catch in her voice.
"Yes." Harry said simply.
"It was-" Hermione swallowed. "It was just a silly little thing. I just wanted to make you smile..."
"You did," Harry said quietly. "It was the best birthday present I ever got. The best present period."
A smile lit Hermione's face and she pressed the little figure of a stag back into Harry's hands. Harry held it flat on the palm of his left hand and prodded it with his wand. The stag sprang to life, stamping and snorting, then lowered it's head and charged a small, illusionary figure that had appeared. The figure was unmistakably Severus Snape, who fled in terror but was caught swiftly by Prongs and stabbed in the rear by the sharp horns. Snape howled in a tiny voice and disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Harry and Hermione laughed in delight as the memory washed over them.
"But, wait..." Hermione said slowly. "Why did you keep it? I thought you said you couldn't feel-?"
Harry didn't respond immediately. Hermione grew slightly worried as the silence lengthened, but Harry didn't appear to be upset, just thoughtful.
"Because," he said finally, "as long as I had it, no matter how bad it seemed... well, every time I looked at it I thought of you. And then I had he strength to make it through another day, because maybe someday everything would be okay. Someday..."
"And is it?" Hermione asked quietly, taking his hands in hers. Harry looked up finally, straight into Hermione's eyes. There was so much written in his eyes, more than a dozen other people combined, but behind it all she could see her reflection.
"It's so much better than I ever dared hope," Harry said sincerely, squeezing her hands. Hermione's heart leaped, but there was still...
"But not perfect," she said sadly. "I can't- I haven't- I'm sorry! I'm trying so hard to fix you!"
She finished the last part despondently, dashing tears off her face. Harry smiled slightly and reclaimed the hand.
"My Hermione," he said fondly. "So serious. It's not your fault, little witch. What you've already done is amazing... more than I ever did."
"But!"
"Shhh," Harry hushed her. "You're unbelievable. Can't you see what you've already done? It's like- it's like... it's like you just cured lycanthropy, discovered the meaning of life and won the Dumbledore Award and you're upset because your lycanthropy cure tastes awful."
Hermione smiled despite herself.
"And-I-DID-fall-in-love-with-you-seventh-year," Harry said in a rush.
"Wha-?" Hermione's jaw dropped.
"I, um... I fell in love with you during seventh year," Harry swallowed. "I just didn't realize it then. I didn't realize it until right now, actually. I may not be able to feel it now but, well... looking back it how I felt and what we said and did- how could it have been anything else? That's why I know that, you know, if I was okay these days, this is still right where I'd want to be..."
"Oh..." Hermione was speechless, but absurdly happy. She pulled him forward almost roughly and nearly half an hour disappeared as they were otherwise occupied. But suddenly she stopped, her mouth hanging open and an arrested, I've-just-realized-something-really-important look on her face. She looked at his face, then down to his arm where the scars were completely gone, then back up at his face.
"No... it couldn't be..."
"Hermione?" Harry asked, unnerved.
"I- I think I've just understood something Harry," she cried, excited. "But I've gotta go to the library and look it up. I'll be back soon!"
She jumped up and rushed out. She dashed back in a moment later and kissed him, then hurtled back out again.
Some time later Harry jumped as a loud pop interrupted his concentration. Moments later Hermione slouched into the room wearing a disgruntled expression.
"Look, I've figured out a bunch of the puzzle!" he said proudly, pointing at his handiwork. She glanced at it distractedly.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, but already knew from the defeated slump of her shoulders that she hadn't.
"No," she said gloomily, sinking onto the couch. "I went back to Hogwarts because they've got the best library in Britain, but I couldn't find anything. I asked Professor Slughorn too, but he couldn't help me."
"Why don't you ask Dumbledore?" Harry suggested.
"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, jumping back up. "Dumbledore- he's dead. You were there!"
"I know that. But don't you remember what I told you he said? 'I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me'."
"But... what does that mean?" Hermione asked, baffled.
Harry gave her a strange look. "Hermione, this is weird. You're the one who always figures things out. Don't you remember what's hanging on the walls in the Headmistress' office?"
"The- the-" Hermione stopped, thunderstruck.
"Harry, you're a genius!" she squealed and leaned forward to kiss him full on the lips. "I have to go!"
She rushed out again, leaving a bemused Harry shaking his head.
"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione called, puffing as she rushed down the hall.
"Miss Granger!" McGonagall turned, surprised. "What are you doing back again?"
"Professor, I really need to talk with Professor Dumbledore's portrait!"
"You what?"
"I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore, please! It's really important!"
"I-" McGonagall was visibly taken aback. "I, well... if it was anyone else... But since it's you, I suppose I can arrange that. You DO have a very good reason?"
"Yes! I swear it!"
"Very well, then. Come with me."
McGonagall swept up towards her office, Hermione half-running to keep up with her long strides.
"Lemon drop," McGonagall said to the gargoyle, which sprang into life and out of the way. Hermione looked at her in surprise.
"The day Albus died, I couldn't help but remember how he kept offering me those Muggle candies all the time," McGonagall replied, unasked. "I just couldn't get it out of my mind and and I thought that, knowing Albus, it would have delighted him to see me try one. They're my favorite."
Hermione nodded and patted McGonagall's arm in understanding.
"Well, here we are, Miss Granger. Albus is right over there."
"Er... could I speak with him alone, please?" Hermione pleaded. "It's- it's personal."
For a minute, Hermione thought McGonagall would explode, but she just nodded curtly and left. Hermione rushed over to Dumbledore's portrait.
"Hello, Miss Granger," the portrait greeted her, a twinkle in its blue eyes. "I've been expecting you for quite some time."
"You- you have?"
"Certainly," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. "I was sure that you would figure out what happened to Harry at some point, when you finally tracked him down, so I prepared my portrait with some special knowledge."
"You knew?" Hermione squeaked. "You knew what was going to happen?"
"Let's just say I had a strong suspicion. And my strong suspicions have a habit of being correct. Alas, I was not able to validate it for sure and tell anyone before my demise. At any rate, to cut to the chase: Yes."
"Yes?" Hermione repeated almost inaudibly.
"Yes."
Harry was nearly halfway finished with the puzzle by the time Hermione re-appeared once more. He was startled once more, but not by the crack of her apparation.
"Harry, we have to go!" Hermione was suddenly at his side, tugging his arm. "Now!"
"Go where?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised. "It's nearly one in the morning."
"We have to go back to the Ministry! Back to where you fought Voldemort!"
Harry's face went cold and he turned away.
"No."
"Please, Harry," Hermione wheedled, still clutching his arm. "It's really really important. I would never ask you otherwise."
"Please... Hermione. Don't ask me to do this. You know I can't refuse you."
"Harry," Hermione stepped in front of him and looked him straight in the eye. "Do you trust me?"
Harry nodded tightly.
"Then believe in me. I wouldn't ask you to do this unless it was really important. Trust me, everything is going to be just fine."
".......Ok," Harry nodded again. Hermione threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"Come on, let's go see Mr. Weasley."
"Mr. Weasley?" Harry echoed, confused.
"Yeah! He's really high up in the Ministry now. He and Ron can get us in!"
Hermione was all for apparating off on the spot, but Harry overruled her.
"Hermione, I can't just barge into the the Ministry in my boxers!"
So Hermione waited impatiently, hugging herself tightly, as Harry dug out some clothes and tossed on his robes. He paused briefly to brush his teeth as well and gave a cursory pass over his hair with a brush.
"Ok, I'm ready- what's so funny?" Harry asked curiously, for Hermione was laughing helplessly.
"Oh, um, nothing," she managed, an innocent expression on her face.
"Oh?" Harry peered at her distrustfully. "Spill it."
"I, er," Hermione searched for words. "Oh, sod it. I was just thinking what kind of a headline you'd make in the Daily Prophet. Mad Wizard Storms Ministry Clad in Snitch-Patterned Boxers."
Harry just stared at Hermione as laughter overcame her again.
"You just watch it, little witch," he warned ominously, "or you might find yourself clad in only your underwear when we get there."
"You wouldn't!" Hermione gasped. "Ok, then let's move this to the bedroom. We can go to the Ministry later."
Harry went bright red and held his hands up in surrender.
"Ok, you win. Let's go."
"Where?" Hermione asked archly.
"Ron!" Hermione practically shouted, pounding on his door. "Ron, get up, you lazy slug!"
It was pitch black out, being a full moon and cloudy to boot, as Harry and Hermione stood on the front doorstep to Ron's place. There were faint sounds from inside as Hermione kept hammering the door. The sounds resolved into groans and complaints as they steadily drew closer.
"Hermione," Ron whined, opening the door and peering at her through sleep-fogged eyes. "What the bloody Hell are you doing here at one in the morning!"
"Get dressed," Hermione said peremptorily, walking into his house like she owned it. "We're going to the Ministry."
"What?" Ron gaped at her, hand still on the handle of the open door.
"We," Hermione said slowly and clearly, "are going to the Ministry. Now get some clothes on."
"Harry," Ron appealed, finally closing the door. "Can't you do anything? She's your girlfriend, get her under control."
"Sorry, mate," Harry shrugged. "You better just do what she says."
"Ron?" A voice called sleepily from the bedroom. "Who is it?"
"Nobody, dear," Ron called back grumpily, stumping back in. "Just that mad witch Hermione and her cowardly boyfriend."
"What does she want?" they heard Charlotte ask and Ron muttered something indistinctly in reply. Hermione paced back and forth in the living area impatiently.
"Ok, let's go," Ron grunted, re-appearing. "And this better be good."
"We need to get your dad too," Hermione said briskly, stepping outside. Ron didn't follow.
"Now wait just a minute..."
"What's your problem, Ron!" Hermione demanded.
"Listen, I am NOT walking in on my parents at one in the morning," Ron said hotly. "We've all moved out, you know. Do you have any idea-? I do NOT want to see that! I don't even want to think about it!"
Harry cottoned on immediately and started laughing helplessly. It took Hermione a moment longer.
"What are you talking abo- OH!" Her eyes went wide.
"Let's just send an owl," Harry gasped.
"Yeah," Ron agreed fervently.
Some twenty minutes later, after a very strongly worded owl from Hermione, they met Arthur Weasley at the entrance to the Ministry.
"Hermione, Ron, what's going on?" he asked the moment they arrived.
"I need to get into the Department of Mysteries," Hermione said without preamble. "Can you and Ron get us in?"
"Why-"
"Can you?" Hermione said fiercely in a tone that brooked no questioning.
"Please, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked in a much politer tone.
"Well, maybe," he frowned. "It'll be dodgy, but I might be able to manage it."
"Thank you!" Hermione flung her arms around a flustered Arthur for a moment, then released him and marched into the Ministry. He cast a mystified look at Harry, who shrugged.
"Wait..." Arthur said slowly. "What's to stop you from breaking in by yourself, Harry? Nobody could prevent it."
"I'd rather not," Harry replied quietly. Arthur nodded in understanding.
Passing the night guard proved to be simplicity in itself. Arthur and Ron, of course, were let in immediately. Harry had simply disappeared between one moment on the next, though a small voice in Hermione's ear assured her he was still there. They were able to fabricate an excuse for Hermione as well, helped by the fact that she was the famously brilliant Hermione Granger.
"That was easy," Harry remarked, popping back into visibility as they passed out of site into the lift. "I would have thought the security would be upped, all things considered."
"They did," Arthur remarked wryly. "But I didn't think the extra warding would give you any problems. Obviously, I was correct."
"Hmmmm..." Harry made a disapproving noise. "That was it? That's pathetic."
Ron whistled in admiration as the lift clanked to the bottom. Evidently, he did find the extra protection pathetic.
They slipped quietly off the lift and down the hauntingly familiar stairs and corridor. A feeling of dread began to build in Harry's chest as they came to the room of revolving doors. But before they could enter an unexpected event stopped them.
"What do you think you're doing here?" demanded a voice, and a squat witch hustled in front of them to block off their path. Harry stared; it was none other than Dolores Umbridge.
"Dolores, we have business here," Mr. Weasley said impatiently. "Move along."
"I'm sorry, Arthur," Umbridge smiled smugly, not sounding sorry at all. "Not even you are allowed back here."
Harry moved forward. Hermione watched in apprehension.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked quietly.
"You're no one," sneered Umbridge.
"That's right," Harry laughed unpleasantly.
"Perhaps this will jog your memory, Professor," he spat, holding the back of his hand up in front of her face. Umbridge mouthed the words and her face went white.
"You!"
"Me," Harry said grimly. "Now, get out of our way!" Umbridge fled.
"Harry, what was that?" Ron asked shakily. Hermione hushed him, but Ron spoke over her.
"Harry, she's going to tell everyone who you are!"
"No, she won't," Harry said grimly. He made a motion and a stream of nebulous, somehow languid, blue light shot out of his wand after Umbridge.
"Harry, what was that?" Arthur asked sharply. "You can't attack Ministry employees, even her!"
"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley," Harry assured him. "It was only a Memory Charm."
Mr. Weasley, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.
"I've never seen one like that before," Ron ventured.
"Well, no," Harry said with a half-smile. "I added something else to it. Umbridge isn't going to feel very well tomorrow morning. Nothing serious. But definitely unpleasant."
"Ah... that's ok, then," Mr. Weasley grinned. Harry grinned back and Ron chuckled before Hermione grabbed Harry and dragged him forward.
"Come on, let's go!"
The chamber was just as they had left it; broken and destroyed, the archway standing alone in the center. It looked frail, but not even the frantic battle that had taken place there had been able to scratch it. The veil fluttered softly as Hermione led Harry right to the very middle, motioning the rest back.
"There's something here," Harry said tensely. "I can feel it."
"What is it?" Hermione asked keenly.
"I don't know... it seems familiar..."
Harry looked frightened. Hermione looked excited.
"Hermione... are you going to tell me what this is all about?"
Hermione took a deep breath and looked Harry square in the eyes. Ho looked puzzled, unsure, and frightened.
"Harry, I.. I- I lo-" Hermione closed her eyes and the memory came back to her:
"There is a spell that is effectively the exact opposite of the Horcrux, though I may be the only person who ever knew it. A spell that will heal a torn soul; re-integrate the pieces. And the beauty of it is that it takes almost no magical power and has but one required ingredient. Can you think of what that might be?"
"Yes," Hermione whispered.
"Do you love Mr. Potter?"
There was a very long pause. Finally, Hermione spoke a single word. Dumbledore's portrait beamed.
"This, then, is the incantation... it is very simple," Dumbledore said gravely. "You simply have to tell the person that you love them."
"That's it?" Hermione demanded.
"Well, no, not quite," Dumbledore said apologetically. "That's just the incantation. As it takes a murder to create a Horcrux, it takes the opposite to mend a soul. A person must willingly sacrifice their life, out of love."
"I have to die?" Hermione said in a small voice.
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore sighed. "But do not be afraid of death, Hermione. It is not so terrible a thing."
There was a long silence.
"I've been wrong before," Dumbledore finally broke the silence. "There may be a way around it... perhaps a clever witch such as yourself could find it."
"If you couldn't, then how could I?" Hermione said in a defeated sort of voice. "But... it's ok. For Harry... I would do anything."
"Harry, I lo-" but Hermione stopped again suddenly; a spine-tingling song had filled the room. It was a song such as they had not heard for five years. It was the sound of hope itself; it filled and surrounded them.
"Fawkes?" Harry whispered in disbelief.
There was a flash of fire and the phoenix appeared. Piping his song, Fawkes soared over and landed on Harry's shoulder. Harry raised a shaking hand to stroke the phoenix.
Fawkes abruptly ceased his song, though the echoes lingered. The phoenix cocked his head to the side and peered beadily at Hermione. She gazed back, uncomprehending.
Fawkes let out one more quavering note and Hermione gasped.
"I- I understand! Professor Dumbledore, I understand!"
Satisfied, Fawkes took off and flapped insistently in front of an astonished Mr. Weasley until he held out his arm. Fawkes perched upon it and watched Hermione and Harry serenely.
"Harry," Hermione said in a strong, sure voice. "I love you, Harry Potter."
Closing her eyes, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed a confused Harry tenderly. He stood in shock for a moment, unable to respond, and then started to gasp and shudder. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry to steady him and, at that instant, Fawkes burst into flame. Mr. Weasley cried out and shielded his face, but the fire didn't seem to harm him. The next instant, he was cradling a tiny, ugly baby Fawkes.
Hermione stepped back, opened her eyes and looked up at Harry expectantly. He stopped shaking and tentatively brought a hand to his forehead, feeling around. He stopped when he felt something.
"Hermione, what did you just do? I feel..."
"Harry, oh, Harry, I figured it out! Why the scars on your arm kept disappearing! And why you were... incomplete... but I didn't know if there was a way to fix it! That's what I had to ask Dumbledore!"
"What are you talking about, Hermione?"
"Harry," Hermione answered, her eyes shining. "It was what you said... you said that you could have made a Horcux when you killed Voldemort if you only knew the spell. You didn't make a Horcux, but you did tear your soul! Voldemort didn't care about his soul, but you... it was devastating for you. That fragment of your soul has been here ever since! It couldn't go through the veil without the rest of you. I asked Dumbledore if there was an anti-Horcrux spell. One that puts a soul back together..."
Harry lowered his hand and comprehension filled his eyes; they widened as he took in the baby Fawkes and remembered Hermione's astonished expression when the phoenix arrived. He understood immediately what such a spell would cost.
"But... Harry, your scar is back! I don't know what I did wrong!" Hermione cried. "I'm so sorry!"
"Wrong?" Harry repeated slowly, then he laughed in delight, picking Hermione up and whirling her around.
"Hermione, you didn't do anything wrong! You did everything- everything!- just right. This scar... it's part of me. I need it; I'm not complete without it. It's not bad... it's- it's just a scar... "
Hermione stared up at him, the gears working furiously inside her head.
"Hermione..." Harry stepped close and stroked her cheek softly. "Fawkes... you were going to die to heal me."
Hermione looked down, but Harry sensed something. He had sensed it ever since Fawkes had burst into flame. An invisible golden thread connecting him and Hermione.
"Yes," Hermione looked up fearlessly. "Yes, I was. I would do anything for you."
The golden thread suddenly blazed and an indescribable flood of love flowed through it to envelope Harry. Tentatively, Harry flexed his thoughts and sent a return feeling.
"I- I love you, Hermione."
A brilliant smile lit Hermione's face and he lowered his lips to hers, letting his walls down and the connection go as full as possible.
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