Fulfillment

A/N: This story is a sequel to FORESIGHT. It contains references to events and situations that you may not understand if you haven’t read the previous one.

Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.

FULFILLMENT

PART ONE

The figure appeared suddenly between two of the white houses that stood beside the road – a road that wound its way up to a village, perched on a shallow hill and riddled all around with similar white stucco buildings and a small church.

He paused, standing still in the shadow between the houses, waiting to see if anyone had stirred at the sound of the pop that had accompanied his arrival. After moments of silence, undisturbed by any noise of movement, he slowly put away his wand and then quietly began to walk from between the houses down a small incline, past the backyards, and finally into the open. After several yards of trudging through soft, dry sand he finally stopped, just shy of the water that had washed up onto the beach and then quickly receded away again.

He closed his eyes, breathing in the salt tinged air deeply and listening to the sound of the waves rushing in from the ocean onto the shore that stretched beyond vision on either side. The air was humid and warm, something he welcomed as a relief from the damp, cool air of the land from which he had come. He then looked up to see a dark sky filled to the brim with stars, sparkling down on him. It was so beautiful out here, under those stars, those same stars…but this time there was no moon. He closed his eyes once more, letting his senses fill up with all the sounds and smells of the natural world that gave him such a feeling of rest and peace. He then peered out into the horizon at the edge of the ocean, and waited…

Eternal moments seemed to pass as he stood fixated, looking for that first signal of the dawn. And finally, there it was. The purplish hue came up along the rim of the horizon and was then followed by the orange expanse of light which slowly crept upwards until it began to fill the sky and shut out the stars. Then the tip of the reddish orb itself began to appear and slowly make its way up into the sky, changing the quality of the light as it rose. The sun now fired its rays everywhere along the beach that lined the shores of this island in the Mediterranean ocean. The light hit his eyes, through his round spectacles, and he closed them once more, letting the heat and brightness bathe his face in its glow. He exhaled slowly. It was good to be back here again. But no sooner had he begun to feel a sense of ease in this silent, early dawn moment, than something else intruded into its place. It was that same feeling of emptiness and sense of despair that had almost consumed him the previous year. However, this time it wasn’t the girl he loved that was causing the pain.

Harry Potter was in a crisis, in both his heart and mind. It was something that no amount of training or foresight could have prepared him for. He was simply stuck and had no idea of what to do about it. For months now, he had been carrying the weight of this burden that had gradually begun to form in his mind during his last term at Hogwarts. Despite considering the final term in his seventh year to be the happiest and best of them all, the realization that it would be over and that he would now have to face his world, outside of the context of the ‘simple’ life of a wizard-in-training, had dawned on him not too long before graduation and had begun to dampen his spirits.

It wasn’t the idea itself, of being out of school, that bothered him. In fact, he, Ron and Hermione had already experienced that, somewhat, during their quest for Voldemort’s horcruxes. Something which, despite the dangers they had faced, was one of the most enjoyable times he could remember. He still possessed a considerable sum of money in Gringotts that would enable him to live quite comfortably for many years yet to come. But simply existing didn’t appeal to Harry at all. He needed something to do, some purpose for his life now, other than just spending his parent’s money until his vault was dry. Unfortunately, none of the usual routes in wizard careers appealed to him either - especially with everything he had been through. What does one do after ‘delivering the world’ from the threat of evil and chaos? Every option now seemed so trivial in comparison.

He realized now that despite his dislike of what had been expected of him with regards to Voldemort, that his continuing conflict with the Dark Lord over the years had, at least subconsciously, served as a real purpose and destiny. When, therefore, it was finally all over with, the emptiness of a life without some ‘higher’ goal came crashing in on the happy times that he thought were here to stay. He simply felt useless.

Harry had watched his friends, over the course of months at school, start their plans for careers in wizardry in one form or another. Several of them, Hermione included, had applied for entrance into some of the higher wizarding universities in Britain, and elsewhere, to pursue opportunities that required greater magical skills and knowledge than Hogwarts provided. He was so happy for Hermione, going after her idea of becoming a teacher and possibly more. She had applied to and was immediately accepted at Madam Goodthorn’s Advanced School for the Magic Arts, not terribly far from her parent’s home in England. She had talked a lot about that during their last term, sometimes to Harry’s chagrin. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat left behind in the face of her enthusiasm because he himself didn’t know what he wanted to do.

Hermione, many of the students, and several of the teachers had tried to convince Harry to become a teacher in, of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts. So many people simply believed that because of his ‘vanquishing’ of Voldemort and the talents he had displayed in wizardry over the years, that he was already in the upper echelon of expertise on that subject. But Harry knew the truth about what happened with Voldemort - that it was not his skills or magical abilities that had destroyed his enemy, at least not that he knew about. And this knowledge, along with seeing so much evil and darkness over the course of his life, had disillusioned him with the idea of having to delve deeper into the world of the dark arts any further, let alone teach it. No, he wanted something that didn’t involve a constant exposure to the side of magic that had haunted him since childhood. There would be plenty of chances to encounter and deal with dark wizards and witches in this life, regardless of what he might do, and he didn’t want any more of that than necessary.

In the same vein, others had felt that he might become a great Auror, a path that his friend Neville Longbottom had chosen to take. Neville, inspired by his time in DA and his experience in battle with Death Eaters had, to his Grandmother’s delight, determined to pursue the life of one of the most respected and at the same time loathed professions that the wizarding world had to offer. But Harry felt that choice was even worse. Dealing with darkness directly? He sighed at the thought. Becoming another Mad-Eye Moody or one of those edgy warlocks that had been paid to guard Hogwarts last year, during the war, didn’t appeal to his heart at all.

Harry shook his head, his eyes falling downward, brushing one foot around in the wet sand. Far worse than either of those two options was the idea of working for the Ministry of Magic. He had already been enthusiastically offered a few different positions in the Ministry, something which he thought was conciliatory on the governments part after their blundering of the war against Voldemort. He loathed the Ministry and could not accept becoming a part of the very entity that had accused him of wrong doing in his fifth year, that had branded his godfather a murderer, that had tried to manipulate Dumbledore, McGonagall and others at Hogwarts for their own interests and that had done such a bang up job of steering clear of Voldemort himself while fighting minor skirmishes throughout the country. Perhaps the bureaucrats in the Ministry feared Voldemort actually winning and taking over – they would not want to be on his bad side now would they? Anger flashed over Harry’s face at the very thought of it.

Harry spun around at the sound of noises behind him. The denizens of the village had begun to awaken and begin their morning rituals. At least they seemed to have a purpose in life, Harry thought sadly. He then turned back to gaze once more into the sunrise over the sea. He really liked coming here. Of all the places that he had apparated to over the past couple of months, in an effort to try and solve his dilemma, this one was the most peaceful…and different. Different. That’s what he needed, but he didn’t know what ‘that’ was.

He remembered his feeling of inadequacy the night he had faced Voldemort – an enemy that had proven himself far superior in his knowledge of magic and the world. Harry himself had seen so little of the world and something burned in him now to just go out and explore it. He had the means and the time to do it. He could travel for years if he wanted too. But there was one problem with that scenario. Hermione.

The pang of longing came over him again at the thought of her. She was the most special person he knew in this world and had fallen in love with her even more over the course of their final months in school together – something which made his present dilemma even more distressing.

They had performed admirably in their studies, with Professor McGonagall’s promised help of course, but it wasn’t easy. The doubling and even tripling of work they had to do was compounded with the ever present distraction of just wanting to be alone together. By the time they had passed their N.E.W.T.S., barely, Harry and Hermione had discovered practically every little private nook and hideout in the castle or on the school grounds. Many times it was simply to be able to study together in quiet, but almost always ended up in some intense snogging sessions that they both had to force themselves out of, time and again, or risk failing their classes. Harry smiled at the memory of those days.

Most everyone, including Ron, had assumed that they would now take their relationship to the next level – marriage. After all, his parents had married not long after leaving Hogwarts and the obviously intense relationship between Harry and Hermione had been remarked on by many of their fellow students over the course of the months following their night with Voldemort. Indeed, they both had both begun to recognize something between them that was beyond what appeared to be ‘normal’ for a couple in love. It was as though some invisible tether now connected their souls and manifested itself in some astonishing ways. One would automatically finish the other’s statements or would already be engaged in some action that would amazingly fit in with the others intentions, without even exchanging a word. It scared them sometimes and unnerved Ron more than once. Harry laughingly thought about all the times when Ron would be with them and then promptly get up and leave, a contorted look on his face. “You two are weird!” he would say, walking away with puzzlement. Maybe it had something to do with that strange sphere of light on that night last year, but the two of them interacted with each other as though they had been together for a lifetime.

It was then that Harry had also begun to notice that ‘something’ in Hermione’s eyes as they neared the end of their lives at the school. In a hundred different ways she seemed to be indicating to him that she did want to go to that next level. Though she never mentioned it to him directly, he could tell by the look in her eyes, the words she used and the little things she did that she was hoping for ‘something’ after they graduated. But that was the trouble. As much as he loved her and wanted to be with her for the rest of his life, he simply could not move in that direction without knowing his own path to take. Besides, whatever he was going to do would have an obvious impact on both of them. This problem had caused a strain between them even more over the summer months. Harry had distanced himself from Hermione emotionally, to a certain degree, precisely because he wanted to have her so badly and yet could not face a listless future with her no matter how much she might stay by his side. He realized the pain this had caused her too, something not to dissimilar from that which he had experienced during her own ‘change’ last year.

‘But what? What can I do?’ Harry shouted to himself inside. Even Ron had found something to be passionate about. Ron had indeed become the hero of the Gryffindor team several times during the term and was finally offered the position of captain. Harry knew, however, that Ron’s ‘amazing’ Quidditch skills had been greatly enhanced by a new found inspiration in his life – an inspiration in the form of one Luna Lovegood. During his rehabilitation in the hospital wing of Hogwarts last year, she became one of Ron’s most frequent visitors. She would arrive in the morning and read to him from The Quibbler or the Daily Prophet and then they would talk, sometimes for hours. This was something that Ron looked forward to so much that he would refuse to eat any breakfast from Madam Pomfrey until after Luna arrived. Harry smiled at the memory of arriving in the wing one morning, to see Ron reading a copy of The Quibbler upside down, his face screwed up in an attempt to perceive the words. Ron then embarrassingly and quickly put the magazine away at seeing him walk in. Harry suspected that Ron’s stay in the ward that fall was a little longer than necessary.

Luna truly had a profound impact on the red haired teenager. Harry noticed that he was far quieter and reflective when Luna wasn’t there, and when the two of them were together Ron invariably had her in stitches over something. Ron loved that and had all but confessed to Harry his love for her. As a matter of fact, Harry mused, he couldn’t recall a single argument or fight between them. Luna, though eccentric, was so amiable that Harry couldn’t help but like her himself, even more than before. She and Ron seemed to fit well together, though Ron continually complained that he didn’t deserve such a ‘beautiful’ girl.

And so her regular presence at the Quidditch matches gave Ron something to really play for, to the good fortune of the Gryffindor team. This had also inspired Ron with the idea to try out for England’s team after school was out. He apparently was going to go all the way in the sport if possible, and he had someone who showed unequivocal support and interest in his idea. Harry was glad for his best friend. But Harry himself simply didn’t care about Quidditch anymore. As enthusiastic as he used to be towards the sport, it held little interest for him now. It seemed too trivial a matter in the face of such a cold world filled with all the Voldemorts, Snapes and Malfoys out there. No, that would not be his path either.

Harry felt the sadness in his heart once more. He knelt down and reaching out with one finger began writing in the sand.

Happy Birthday Harry.

He stared at the words for several moments, wondering. He realized that he had only a short time before someone would notice him out here alone on the beach, so he stood up and retrieved his wand, gazing once more out at the beautiful ocean. Pausing briefly to take in the smells and sounds once more, he then spoke the words and disappeared from the island.

No sooner had he disapparated into the living room at 12 Grimmauld Place, than he noticed the musty, old smell of the house. That, coupled with its emptiness and dankness seemed repulsive to Harry’s senses after the exciting sensations of the small island world from which he had arrived. Grim old place indeed, he thought. He hated the very sight of it now. It had been his permanent home since graduation, but the memories it recalled and the loneliness it evoked were becoming unbearable to his mind. He desperately needed something new, something that would distance him from so many of the horrors in his past.

The Order itself had disbanded and was replaced by a MOM version which few people believed would work as efficiently as Dumbledore’s original idea. So, this house was no longer its headquarters and each of the surviving members had moved on to other paths in life. Harry had, therefore, been mulling over an idea since graduation and was now determined in his thoughts – he would sell it and move elsewhere.

He slowly walked into the kitchen and stopped, hands in his pockets. All was quiet in the house except for the ticking of the small clock on the mantle in the living area. He had struggled alone with this problem long enough. Perhaps it was time to get some help from someone he knew that could lead him in the right direction. He really appreciated Hermione’s love and support of him through this difficulty, but she no more had an answer that satisfied him than he did. Maybe Professor McGonagall could help or maybe…

Harry was startled at the noise of a commotion coming from the living room, followed by hurried footsteps. He turned just in time to see a brownish blur fly around the corner and head straight for him…

Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.

FULFILLMENT

PART TWO

Hermione leapt into the air, throwing both arms around Harry’s neck and wrapping her legs around his waist, almost causing him to topple over backwards. He stepped back to keep from falling and then quickly wrapped his own arms around her tightly.

They held each other silently for a few moments. Hermione sighed and Harry closed his eyes, feeling her warm embrace that always soothed him no matter what he might be going through.

“I missed you,” she uttered through a muffled voice, her face buried in his neck.

“Hermione…you saw me yesterday,” he replied slowly.

“I know…too long,” she spoke, almost dreamily.

He laughed a little and she then pulled back and smiled at him. The deep brown in her eyes coupled with the softness of her expression pierced his heart and he again felt the intense desire to do the one thing that he simply could not do at this time. This fearsome want in him was exactly what he didn’t need right now. He needed to focus on what he was supposed to do or else he thought he might go mad. He definitely could not move forward with her yet.

He looked down briefly and exhaled and then looking back at her face again, he saw that beautiful, cheery expression change into one of sadness as she gazed into his own eyes, as though she could see into his very soul. He knew that his struggling and the distance he was placing between them was hurting her and he longed for her to know that he had not let go of her, but the words simply would not come out.

Hermione’s expression now became one of compassion and she smiled slightly again, letting her feet down on the floor once more and then drawing him closer with her tightened embrace.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” she said, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips. She did not linger long, however. She understood his mind on the matter even though it pained her. Harry wanted so badly to just lean in and kiss her strongly, but the conflict inside seemed to intensify even more. This torture was almost too much for him. He let go of her and backed away slightly, her arms lingering on his shoulders and then finally returning to her side. She was clearly struggling as much as he was now. Oh, how he hated to see her like this!

He looked up again and smiled halfway, trying to keep his own pain from showing through but he knew that it was futile.

Suddenly, Hermione once more smiled at him and as though she were deliberately trying to lighten the mood, her demeanor became one of cheerfulness. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box, wrapped in green paper. She then handed it to Harry, who was sufficiently distracted with her look to feel a bit more at ease.

“I got this for you,” she spoke, as though there was nothing wrong at all between them.

Harry had a look of curiousness and reached out to take the box. He then pulled off the paper and opened the lid. Inside was a silver ball about the size of a large marble. He pulled it out of the box, gazing at his distorted reflection in its shiny surface. It felt heavy, despite its size. Looking back at her, his face was contorted in puzzlement at the strange birthday present she had given him.

“What is it?” he queried.

“It’s called a Pop-Off,” Hermione returned, seeming almost embarrassed at the name. “It’s charmed to eliminate that horrible noise when you apparate or disapparate. Now you can go anywhere without people being alerted to your arrival.”

“Is that the reason I didn’t hear you disapparate in the living room?” he asked.

She reached into her pocket again and pulled out another silver ball. His face now brightened up.

“Wow. That’s great, Hermione. Thanks,” he told her with another smile. “Where did you get them?”

“Courtesy of the specialty section at Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes. I know…the name is sort of a dead giveaway, really. Leave it to the twins to come up with yet another trick to help pranksters the world over be able to get away with their schemes.”

Hermione laughed a little at these words, cheering Harry up further and they both felt the earlier tension now break a little.

“I must say, though,” she continued, looking at the silvery object in her hand, “these may actually come in handy.”

She placed hers back in her pocket and watched Harry do the same. She then took on the air of a comforting nurse.

“Well now, you probably haven’t had any breakfast, so go and sit down in the living room and I’ll make us some tea.” She spoke, reaching out to take his arms briefly, motioning him toward the doorway.

“That sounds good,” Harry responded, nodding his head.

As he began walking toward the doorway, he turned and briefly watched as she foraged through the old worn out cabinets. That desire again reared up inside and Harry thought he might burst. She was so amazing to him. How could there be so much love and strength inside something so beautiful? Something so delicate and… Harry shook his head and turned back towards the living room quickly. This was becoming even more difficult, seeing her and wanting…

He crashed down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. With everything in his power he would find out TODAY what he must do. He would make the decision NOW. He simply couldn’t continue to stay distant from her. He wanted more than anything to see her happy and to feel once again that freedom and love they had shared for many months now without all the doubt and uncertainty hanging over everything. Harry continued in his thoughts, trying to determine who he knew that might be able to help him in this hour of dire need.

Hermione suddenly appeared out of nowhere, two tea cups on saucers balanced in her hands, followed by a small plate full of biscuits and jam floating behind her. She reached out and handed one of the saucers to Harry and then turned, grabbed the floating plate and gently placed it on the small table in front of the sofa. She then turned once more and sat down next to Harry, so close that their legs brushed up against one another. Harry felt a chill down his spine. ‘Was she doing things like this deliberately?’ he wondered. Did she know how crazy it drove him? Hermione however, appeared completely oblivious, sipping her hot tea slowly.

The two of them just sat in silence for eternal moments and then she turned to look at him.

“So how did it go at the Burrow last night?” Hermione asked him, sounding terribly similar to an interested wife asking her husband how things had gone at the office.

“Great,” Harry started, feeling a bit strange at the tone of her question, “crowded as usual. Every Weasley was there except for Bill. He and Fleur couldn’t make it.”

“Did Mrs. Weasley make her famous ‘burnt’ roast for dinner, for your birthday?” Hermione quizzed him with a big smile.

Harry laughed, almost spitting tea all over the floor. Hermione followed suit, seeming pleased to lighten his mood.

“Of course, along with her usual fruit and nut ‘cement’ cake, complete with exploding candles exchanged for the real ones by Fred and George,”

Hermione now burst out laughing, trying not to drop her saucer and cup.

“Mrs. Weasley realized it the moment I refused to blow them out, and verbally thrashed the two of them. But she didn’t stay mad very long on account of the ‘guest of honor’.”

“Really? I didn’t think she minded that sort of thing in front of you,” she said with puzzlement.

“Not me. Neville. He’s her favorite visitor now,” Harry replied.

“Ohhhh. That’s right, I forgot. Has he begun to feel more comfortable around the whole clan yet?”

“A little. He still gets flustered when she drills him with questions about his family and his new career. Ginny invariably has to step in to stop her mum from embarrassing both of them in front of everyone, but I think he understands what life at the Weasley’s entails now.”

“It’s still hard to believe that he and Ginny…”

“I know, but they get along really great. Before dinner, they were practicing dueling with each other outside while Ron and the twins practiced some Quidditch maneuvers, with Ron’s ‘fan club’ watching, of course.”

“Hmmm. Luna seems to fit in well with everyone there doesn’t she?”

“Yes. She’s an unofficial part of the ‘family’ now too. Mr. Weasley really seems to enjoy talking with her about the Ministry and her Father’s business and Fred and George had her in stitches almost all night, which of course, made Ron jealous. But I am so amazed at the two of them together, Hermione. Ron’s days of acting like a prat and thinking only about himself seem to be gone forever – she’s worked a true ‘miracle’ on our friend.”

She laughed a little bit in between sips of the warm liquid, nodding in agreement.

Silence once again took over. Hermione had definitely lit up this dreary place with her presence, but that nagging sense of gloom seemed never far away from his mind. Despite their conversation, he simply could not stave off the inevitable feelings that conflicted within his soul.

“Harry, I thought we might go out for some lunch later, if you would like,” Hermione broke in on his pensive thoughts.

He sighed slightly. Not now. He had determined to resolve this dilemma before anything else would happen on his birthday. He just didn’t know how. He needed more time alone, at least.

“There’s…something I need to do today, Hermione,” Harry spoke apologetically, looking into her eyes once more. “I’m sorry. Maybe tomorrow.”

The words were like daggers piercing her heart. Her countenance fell and she turned to look at the floor, nodding in agreement. Harry felt the terrible pain inside of him, echoing her own. There it was again. That strange connection that would pop up every so often. It was absolutely wonderful when they shared something good together and simply awful when they would ‘communicate’ in some negative way. Harry turned to look away, wondering what he should do. He hated being the reason for her sadness at this moment.

“Harry, I know you are still struggling with this,” she spoke, turning to her body to face him better, “but you know that I am still with you and will help you in any way that I can. So, please don’t shut me out. I love you so much…”

Harry didn’t look at her, however. He felt pitiful at the sound of her caring words. He nodded slightly, trying not to let the mixed feelings of pain and deep longing for her drive him to the point of tears.

“You’ll figure it out, Harry. I know you will,” she then said with such kindness in her voice.

She then leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. Harry felt her warm touch and his head drooped a little. She backed away but unexpectedly stopped not far from his face. He could now feel her breath on his skin and he feared what might happen next. Indeed, she leaned in once more, closing her eyes and kissing him even longer on the cheek again. She then slowly and delicately kissed him on the nape between the back of his jaw and neck. Harry’s eyes shut involuntarily. His breath intensified at the softness of her lips on his neck as she continued to kiss him, moving even slower down his neck. Hermione…please. This is killing me.

He was almost on the verge of turning and taking her into his arms, career or destiny be damned.

CRASH!

They both jumped as Harry’s tea cup slipped off of its saucer and shattered on the floor, spilling the warm liquid all over their jeans and shoes. Hermione was so startled that she immediately dropped her cup too, sending fragments of china and black tea on the wooden floor. They both stood up immediately, breathing heavily, as thought they had been jarred from some wonderful dream.

“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry,” Hermione uttered, starting to reach down and pick up some of the pieces.

“It’s okay…Hermione,” Harry told her, stooping down to help her. He was still reeling from the intensity of the moment.

She pulled out her wand and with a quick flick the tea had dried completely from their pants, shoes and floor. The two of them grabbed the broken pieces and took them into the kitchen. After cleaning up a bit, they both just stood quietly together, neither of them being able to find the words to speak at the moment. Finally, Hermione, with her arms crossed and appearing almost desperate, looked up at Harry.

“You are still coming tonight, right?” she asked him with such longing in her voice it tugged at his heart. He nodded.

“Yes. I’ll be there,” he replied.

“Don’t forget, five o’clock,” she spoke again, “Dad and Mum can’t wait for you to come. Mum is preparing something really special for your birthday, Harry.”

Hermione moved a little closer to him, now smiling again.

“She talks about you constantly now. You would think that she was in love you, the way she goes on and on.”

Harry laughed a little and both of them seemed to maintain a good composure despite what was brewing beneath the surface in both their hearts.

Harry simply couldn’t help himself now. He reached out quickly and took her into his embrace, holding her as though he never wanted to part. He felt her grip his waist tightly again, and she groaned a little at the surprise of his sudden affection. He backed off to see that strong desire in her eyes, her face flush with the feelings that he knew were overwhelming her mind at the moment. He smiled at her, wanting her to know that he still loved her more than anything, but needed to get his life straight before they could truly be together.

“I’ll see you at five, Hermione,” he spoke with such confidence in his expression.

She nodded at him and then leaned in once more to kiss him softly on the lips. She then let go and once more pulled out her wand. Walking away from him, she turned and looked back, still with that deep longing in her eyes. She then spoke and with another flick of her wand, apparated from the kitchen. There was no sound at all, at her disappearance, and Harry shook his head in amazement, reaching into his pocket once more to pull out and look at the silver ball she had given him.

He suddenly felt the weight of all the emotions of the past half hour come crashing down on him, feeling his eyes water slightly.

Who can I go to? Who out there would understand? Professor McGonagall might be able to help, but he wasn’t sure how available she might be with the preparation for the upcoming term at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to bother her with something like this right now. Maybe one of the teachers…

Suddenly, the thought that now seemed so obvious shot through his mind. Of course! One person he knew who had helped him so much several years back and who had proved to be a very loyal friend and counselor to the three of them over the years.

Harry pulled out his own wand now, not wanting to waste a moment. He returned the Pop-Off to its place in his pocket and spoke out loud.

In an instant he had apparated out of the gloomy confines of his home at 12 Grimmauld Place to a far more beautiful place - one that he had enjoyed visiting so much over the past year…

Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.

FULFILLMENT

PART THREE

As soon as he had arrived, Harry saw the beautiful sight of the summer morning sun shining through a stand of trees on the edge of the grassy expanse in which he now stood. The sound of the birds busy in their morning activities and the smell of the cool air around him made him feel very calm inside. This place was just as nice as any beach in the Mediterranean could be, he thought to himself.

As much as he liked London and its busyness, he couldn’t help but feel an attachment to the flip side of this part of the British landscape – the English countryside - at least that which still seemed primeval in its appearance.

He turned around to see the manor house with its brown brick exterior, still looming ominously over the well kept grounds of the large estate, in this relatively sparse section of the country. He began to walk towards the house and moved in the direction of the chin high brick wall that extended from its back, enclosing a small portion of what he knew was acres and acres of property behind it.

As he came up to the wall, he peered over into its depth. Enclosed inside the wall was a very well tended English garden. Everything was laid out so neatly and with so many varieties of plants and vegetables that Harry could barely make out the small path that wound its way through the gardens expanse. But he finally noticed movement among some flowers and started to walk along the wall to get a better view. More movement caught his eye now as he glanced back towards the house to see a water pitcher floating gently along a portion of the path and every so often spill it contents down on certain plants that lined the row. Up ahead of him he saw a small spade digging a hole on its own and upon finishing one would move a ways and start another. Then Harry saw him.

Kneeling down and careful tending to several flowers along the small path, the man was apparently engrossed in his work with such a keen pleasure that readily came through his demeanor. Harry laughed a little to himself. A werewolf tending a flower garden?

Remus Lupin turned his head to see Harry looking down at him from the wall. He smiled at Harry and wiping dirt from his hands began to stand and turn in Harry’s direction.

“Harry! What a surprise! How are you getting along?” Remus asked the dark haired teenager as he moved closer to the wall.

“Fine, Professor, thanks,” Harry replied.

Lupin’s face turned to one of puzzlement and he turned his head back and forth then gazed back at Harry.

“I didn’t hear you arrive. Did you apparate here or come by train again?” Remus now queried.

“I apparated from Grimmauld just a few minutes ago,” he returned.

Lupin moved closer now, still curious as to how Harry managed a completely silent apparition. Harry smiled at the look on the Professor’s face and promptly reached into his pocket to retrieve Hermione’s gift. He held it out and Lupin took it from his hand, turning it over and over to try and understand what he was looking at.

“It’s a Pop-Off, Professor,” Harry started, “another invention of Fred and George’s. It cancels out that popping sound when you apparate.”

An impressed look came over Remus’ face accompanied with a grin.

“Amazing. Those two never cease to surprise me with their cleverness. I’ll have to get one myself,” Lupin stated, handing the silver ball back to Harry. “Good thing Voldemort and those Death Eaters didn’t have this last year, eh?”

Lupin seemed to lose himself in a deep thought then suddenly came to.

“By the way, happy birthday, Harry!”

“Thanks,” Harry started.

“I confess that I am surprised to see you here today, it being your birthday. I thought that you and Hermione might have gone off on another…holiday…again, to celebrate. Unless of course she’s not far behind you,” Remus said looking off in the distance behind Harry.

“Actually, I came here alone. I needed to ask you for some advice,” Harry said almost embarrassed.

“Well of course! What can I do for you?” Lupin now asked him, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall between them.

“I’m stuck and I don’t know what I am supposed to do,” Harry now confessed.

Remus smiled a little and nodded slowly at him.

“Yes, I imagine you are, Harry. What does one do with his life after rescuing the world from total annihilation? I imagine too that nothing ‘out there’ is enough to really get excited about either, am I correct?”

Harry nodded with a grimace on his face.

“I actually thought that you might have sought some help on this sooner, especially after your graduation and all. But I suppose it was best that you get to know yourself a little better and I trust that you have spent plenty of time doing that. Anyway, come inside the house. We’ll talk over a cup of tea or coffee, if you like.”

Harry walked towards the small wooden gate that stood between the two sections of the brick wall. He opened it and walked into the garden moving toward the Professor who was already moving towards the back door to the manor house. As they reached the door, Lupin opened it and then turned to Harry.

“I’m glad you came to see me, Harry. I just might have a solution for your…problem.”

Harry was shocked and his eyes grew large at Lupin’s words. He already had something in mind? This quick? What could it possibly be? His curiosity fired up as he followed Remus into a hallway that lead into the main living area of the quaint old house.

They walked into the room which was filled to the brim with old furniture, paintings, tables and chairs that all belonged to a bygone era – everything well preserved and tidy. Harry always felt like he was visiting a museum when he came to the manor house. A noise in one corner caught his attention and he turned to see a huge smile on the face of a violet haired witch standing with one hand clasping a vase and the other a white rag.

“Harry! How good to see you again. How are you doing?” Tonks asked, putting the vase and cloth down and walking over to Harry, giving him a tight hug.

“I’m well, Tonks…thank you,” he replied, trying to breath while caught in her death grip of an embrace. She let go and leaned back.

“Happy birthday!” she mentioned with a bright expression.

“Thanks,” he replied.

“How is Hermione, by the way? She should be staring school soon, correct?” Tonks now asked him.

“She’s doing great. Her first session begins in another month, but you know her – anxious to get started. She’s already read through every book in each of her classes,” Harry told her with a smile.

Both Remus and Tonks gave out a small laugh.

“I was just cleaning up a bit, but I’ll leave you two alone to talk,” Tonks stated and then turned towards the Professor. “Remus, I’m going into town to pick up a few things. I should be back in about an hour. Make yourself at home, Harry.”

She smiled at him once more and walked out of the room. He looked at Professor Lupin, whose eyebrows shifted up a little at the same time a smirk appeared on his face. Harry heard the familiar pop of an apparition a moment later.

“How about we go into my study, Harry. Would you like some tea, coffee…maybe a little brandy? Just joking of course! Seriously though, anything to drink?”

“No thanks, Professor,” Harry replied, thinking about the tea incident with Hermione back at Grimmauld.

“Well, you know the way. Go on in. I’ll be with you shortly.” Lupin said, walking off into the kitchen area.

Harry made his way into the Professors study - every wall lined with shelves full of books. So many in fact, there were small mountains of the old looking volumes on the floor lining the shelves all the way around the room. Once again, every item, the desk, the chairs, the small, ornate clock on the mantle piece over the fireplace seemed to be at least a hundred, maybe more, years old. This always looked to Harry like the quintessential Professors study. He had been gazing at some of the arcane titles on Lupin’s desk when Remus entered with a steaming cup of coffee. He walked behind the large oak desk riddled with papers, books and a small caldron full of various colored quills.

“Please, take a chair,” he motioned to the teenager, sitting in his own chair and resting the coffee cup on the desk. Harry sat in one of the chairs facing the Professor.

“Harry, have you ever wondered how your family made its fortune? The money that your father inherited and then passed on to you?” Remus began while taking a sip from his cup.

“I’ve never really looked into it, actually. I have been curious about it for some time though,” Harry answered.

“The Potters were ‘Veilers’, Harry, several generations of them. And very good ones too. Are you familiar with the term?”

“They’re something like treasure hunters, right?”

“Similar, but instead of hunting for treasure, they hunt magic. They scour the world to find clues and information that might lead to the discovery of previously unknown spells, incantations, other dimensions and the like. Hence the nickname. They pierce the ‘veil’, if you will, between magic which is known and that which is unknown.

You don’t think that what is taught at Hogwarts or what the Ministry officially recognizes as magical arts is the sum total of all magic in the universe, do you? No, Harry, even after hundreds, perhaps thousands of years, we have merely scratched the surface of the nature and extent of what we call magic in all its different manifestations. There is and will be, for some time to come, so much more ‘out there’ than what we presently possess. And that is why the Veiler plays such an important role in our world.”

Professor Lupin now stood up with his coffee and walked to the lone window that gave a spectacular view of the front lawn of the old estate.

“It is, however, a profession that is rarely spoken of, even among Ministry officials. In fact, the vast majority of those who enter its ranks invariably have to go into hiding, change their identities or otherwise lead a life quite altered from the one in which they were used to. The reason for this, Harry, is that what the Veiler manages to uncover is of such value to the dark arts and produces such a tremendous financial profit that they place themselves and those they love in mortal danger from any who would seek these new powers for their own greed and lusts. You witnessed first hand the result of this danger the night Voldemort trapped the three of you in that previously unknown incantation he used to conceal his trap.”

Harry remembered Voldemort’s description of how he found the Invitalis Incantation and then murdered those who had given it to him. The Professor now turned to look at Harry again.

“The knowledge and propagation of magical forces in our world have been both discovered and lost with countless generations of wizards and witches throughout the centuries. As civilizations have risen and fallen so have many of the mysteries that previous ‘explorers’ of our kind have relentlessly pursued. It is the purpose of the Veiler to ‘recover’ and discover these forces and powers. Men have fought wars, murdered, plundered and committed countless other atrocities in their pursuit of previously unknown magic that might give them an advantage over others. In other words, Harry, the thirst for power has been one of the prime motivators for the profession of Veiling. That is why the few ‘good’ Veilers are kept safely hidden from the eyes of an unappreciative world that takes for granted so much of their sacrifice. Your family was among them.

It was generally believed that the Potters had gained their fortune over the centuries through various investments, businesses and other activities that the rich usually engage in. But that was merely a ruse to keep prying eyes from knowing the truth. Veiling has been the ‘family business’ of the Potters for many generations. The knowledge they accumulated and passed on both to authorities and those with vested interests in their activities have been absolutely invaluable to our world, Harry. A number of the spells, charms and other magic arts that you learned in Hogwarts were a direct result of some of your ancestors efforts, you might be surprised to learn.

Professor Dumbledore himself once considered becoming a Veiler. He had many dealings with the Potter family during his earlier years, hoping to learn trade secrets from them, but despite their trust in him even then, they refused to open up their skills and sources to anyone but family. Instead, for a short time before becoming a Professor, he acted as an agent for the Potters. A liaison between them and the Ministry to make sure that the family was protected in its true occupation, that what they uncovered found its way into the right hands and that they were paid accordingly. In fact, Dumbledore was instrumental in the formation of the Department of Mysteries for the very purpose of maintaining the findings of any Veilers who sought to work for the good of our world.

Anyway, it was your Grandparents greatest hope, Harry, to see your father take over the family business when he was of age. However, like many rebellious youth, James made it clear, early on, that he wanted nothing to do with it. In fact, he initially refused even to attend Hogwarts. Your grandfather Silas, eventually persuaded him to at least attend the school and of course it was there, thankfully, that he met your mother. You know that he and Lily were married shortly after they finished together and then not too long after, they joined the Order. Dumbledore then persuaded your father to follow in his family’s tradition and so he and Lily became Veilers. The reason given was that the Order could then take advantage of any knowledge they might find – something that might give all of them the edge over Voldemort, who was also searching the world for anything that might aid him in his quest for power.

Using the resources and skills of the Potter family, your father and mother started their quests shortly thereafter. And it was on one of those quests that Lily discovered she was pregnant with you. As you know, they then went into hiding, taking the cottage at Godric’s Hollow and trying to blend in as muggles – something that many Veilers over the centuries have done to conceal their identity. At that time, only four other people knew what your parent’s were doing, Harry. Professor Dumbledore, your godfather Sirius, myself and…”

“Peter Pettigrew,” Harry finished his statement, a frown appearing on his face now.

“Yes, Peter Pettigrew. And as we now know, he informed Voldemort of what the Potters were up to. That is why Voldemort sought after your parents, hoping to secure their loyalty. He not only wanted them for their considerable magical skills and talents, but he also wanted the knowledge they had gained from their quests in hopes to add more advantage to his own side. They refused and so he determined to take from them their most precious possession, you. The rest is history, of course, but now you know the whole truth about your family and your lineage.”

Harry sat quietly, trying to take everything in.

“I could have told you about this earlier, Harry, but I wasn’t sure it was the right time. Many of us have watched you grow into the man you are today and though we have tried to steer you in the right direction, ultimately you have to make the choice over what you want to do with your life. You have seen more horrors in your short life than many see in a lifetime but despite that, you have matured wonderfully and I daresay are far better for it. I am sure your parents are very proud of you…and so am I. But again, it is not for me to decide for you. I can only provide the truth. Veiling is in your blood, Harry, whether you know it or not. And perhaps this might explain the restlessness you have been experiencing lately.”

Lupin looked at him silently for a few moments.

“So, what do you think?” he now asked Harry pensively.

Harry sat motionless for another moment then looked up at the Professor, a brightness appearing in his face for the first time in a while.

“I think…this is exactly what I have been looking for, Professor,” Harry spoke, a slight smile coming forth.

Lupin smiled back and nodded his head at the teenager.

“I’ve been wanting to travel, to see the world and this would give me a reason for doing so. I could be doing something useful at the same time.” Harry said almost excitedly.

“But I forewarn you, Harry. If you wish to follow in your parent’s footsteps, your family’s footsteps, I reiterate again the danger you place yourself and any close to you in. You will confront evil wherever you may go. You must prepare yourself for that. It is simply a fact of life for the Veiler. But you have great skills and talents and have proven yourself time and again in that kind of situation – I think you will do very well at it.

You already have the resources to start and I suggest, despite how you might feel about it, that you develop a good relationship with the Ministry. It may be your prime source for work and though I myself dislike its bureaucratic bumblings, at least there are some in the Ministry who have their hearts in the right place. The Ministry, after all, pays quite handsomely for confirmed knowledge of the previously unknown. And I suggest that you find a cover for yourself. Having grown up with the Dursleys you already know muggle ways and I recommend that you ‘become’ one if possible, to conceal your activities.”

Now Lupin turned and gave Harry a very pointed look, almost trying to indicate something secretly.

“I will suggest something else too, Harry. You can do this work by yourself but I would recommend you find yourself a good…research assistant. Someone you can rely on and trust implicitly. After all, two good heads are far better than one and you’ll find you’ll use all the help you can get. Of course, you can count on my support and secrecy in this matter, Harry, as well as Tonks.”

The Professor stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the desk and staring off into space.

“Well, since you are inclined to the idea, there is one more thing to do. I have something for you.”

Lupin moved to one of the shelves full of books. He began searching for a particular volume.

“Now, which one was it again? Ah, here it is.”

He pulled out a large book and opened it in the middle – it apparently contained a hollow space inside. Remus then reached in and pulled something out, and turning towards Harry, handed it to him. Harry reached up to take a key from Lupin’s hand. He looked at it carefully and suddenly his eyes widened at the striking similarity to another key he had seen like this. It had on one end several jewels of various colors, but instead of gold, the metal had a bluish tint.

“I see by the look on your face that you know what that key goes to, Harry,” Remus said with a curiosity in his expression.

Harry nodded, still looking at the key.

“And…” Lupin continued, hoping to hear an answer he himself apparently didn’t know. Harry frowned and looked at him.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy about it, sort of,” Harry answered a little embarrassed.

“Ah. Well then, it’s best you keep your ‘oath’. But I will tell you what you will find, wherever it goes. It is a journal that your mother kept during their brief time as Veilers. When Voldemort’s threat became apparent, your parents took the journal, which contained all the information they had gathered, to the most trustworthy person they knew – Dumbledore. They feared putting the journal in mine, Sirius’ or Peter’s hands, lest we come into danger ourselves. And so Dumbledore placed it, I assume, in a very safe and secure location, away from Voldemort’s spies.

It was sometime before his death that Sirius came to me and gave me that key. Your parents had secretly entrusted it to him not long before they were betrayed in the hopes that if something happened to them you would receive it some day when you were old enough. As so now, it has made its way in to the rightful hands.”

Harry stood up, his mind buzzing at so much. He felt a lightness in his heart for the first time in many months and wanted to almost jump with the excitement of it. He grasped the key tightly and looked up at Remus again.

“Thanks, Professor. You don’t know how much this has helped,” Harry said feeling his words to be such an understatement.

“You’re very welcome Harry. Feel free to come to me anytime you need anything else. I’ll be glad to render assistance to you on your endeavors. I’m sure it will help us all in the end.” Lupin said standing up and shaking Harry’s hand. He walked around the desk and the two of them began walking back in the main corridor of the house towards the front door.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you any longer. You have a lot to think about now, and I am sure there is someone you are very eager to tell this to. But remember what I said about secrecy, Harry. Your life and the life of those you love may depend on it.”

The Professor opened the large oak door that revealed the gravel drive in front of the house, the cool, late morning air coming in briefly. They both looked out at the sun-filled lawn sprinkled with trees and the sounds of the natural world. Harry felt tremendously at ease now and he indeed wanted more than anything to tell the girl he loved about this.

“And who knows? Maybe, somewhere in your travels you might find an explanation for that orb of light you and Hermione experienced in your confrontation with Voldemort. Perhaps some other soul out there has been through something like it. Anyway, take care, Harry. And stop by with Hermione again if you wish. Tonks and I really enjoyed the two of you coming to see us last year, so don’t be strangers.”

“Thanks, again, Remus. We won’t be,” Harry said with a big smile.

With that Remus once more shook Harry’s hand and stepped inside the old house, closing the door behind him. Harry turned to gaze at the beautiful day before him, letting out a breath of relief. He was so happy again. He didn’t know how things would turn out, but the idea of taking up his family’s mantle, having something so exciting and intriguing to be engaged in made Harry feel like he was on top of the world again. He finally found his purpose. And now there was so much to do.

Stepping down onto the gravel drive, he placed the bluish key in the opposite pocket from the Pop-Off, took out his wand and started to speak, when a thought crossed his mind. Wait. Not yet. He had wanted to surprise Hermione and show up early – he couldn’t wait to talk to her and see her own relief over the solution to this whole ordeal. But there was something he had to do first, and it could not wait. As he thought about it, he realized that if he did it, he would be late for the Granger’s dinner – he knew Hermione would be upset. But this simply could not wait, not now. He had been planning it for a while and it amazingly fit so well into what the Professor had told him that it seemed almost prophetic.

“Sorry, Hermione,” he said with a little wince in his expression, “I might be a bit late…”

He then spoke the words and apparated from the large estate to a place he had visited alone many times over the previous months…

Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.

FULFILLMENT

PART FOUR

Hermione sat pensively on one end of the sofa, her arms crossed, her face etched with a small frown and a slight look of concern in her eyes. He was late. Over an hour and a half late. What could possibly have happened?

For some time now she had begun to really worry over the young man she had such an intense love for. His struggle with his identity and place in the world had seemed to almost bury the freedom and joy he had exhibited so happily in her eyes since Voldemort’s demise. And as much as she understood his dilemma, she felt so helpless watching him come under this burden and being unable to do anything about it. She had determined, however, that she would simply be there for him and show him the unqualified love and care she had inside, hoping that one day he would finally discover his new reason for being. But that didn’t erase her own pain.

Her heart had bled so much since Harry had begun withdrawing from her that she had almost become used to the change in their manner together. Almost. She knew he wasn’t doing it because he had ceased to love her. No, it was probably the exact opposite, though he never admitted it to her directly. She saw the conflict he was in when they were together, especially when she showed her affection towards him. But she wondered, could this situation really break the two of them apart? Would he now, after they had been through so much together, both good and bad, would he get desperate and leave her to run off and go ‘find himself’?

Hermione’s heart sunk at the thought. No, he loves me too much. He’s said time and again that without her there was no Harry Potter. He couldn’t do that to the both of them. Especially when they were so close to…

“Hermione, sweetheart, stop worrying. He’ll be here. He’s obviously had a lot on his mind and whatever he’s doing right now must be terribly important,” her father spoke to her from across the living room. He didn’t even look up from the edition of the Times he was currently engrossed in, but she knew he could sense her concern and distress a mile away. She slumped down further into the cushion at his words and sighed.

“I know, Dad. I just hope he hasn’t run into any trouble,” she responded, the frown growing slightly larger.

Truth be told, however, she knew that both her father and mother were starting to get a little concerned over Harry’s failure to show up on time too, though neither would admit it to her. The two of them held Harry in such high esteem that she knew they would give up their house, car, almost anything for the boy who had saved their little girl from death last year, regardless of how mysterious the event itself had been. That one, selfless act had forever sealed in their minds his worthiness as her friend and even more, IF it went that direction. And the knowledge that he was struggling now, though neither she nor Harry had told them what over, had intensified their efforts to be almost surrogate parents to him and that made Hermione glad. She saw how Harry brightened up at her mother’s loving attention towards him and her father’s continuing interest in his thoughts over various matters.

She had never really had a boyfriend, per se, and despite some flirting with Krum, Cormac, and Ron at the school, Harry was the first ‘real’ one she had brought home to her parents. And they couldn’t be happier with what had obviously been a relationship long in the making for the both of them. In her parent’s eyes, for her to find such a deep love with this wizard with the lighting shaped scar, was like hitting the bullseye on a target one hundred meters away - on the very first shot! And it had become painfully obvious, since their graduation, that her mother was as much interested in the prospect of what might happen between them now as she was. Hermione had to be on guard at all times now when Harry was present to make sure Mum didn’t embarrass the two of them with indirect ‘hints’ about marriage and the like.

Hermione’s heart tugged again at the thought and she felt her eyes begin to sting a little. Oh, how she wanted so much to be with him in everything. She wanted to wake up next to him every single day and fall asleep in his arms every night, to experience the rest of her life with him and to share with him every part of her being - forever, if possible. But he had to make that move first. And right now, the whole thing seemed to hang by a dangling, strained thread so long as Harry was facing his dilemma. As painful as it was, her heart would simply have to wait and see.

“Why don’t you go in and help your Mother, dear. I believe she’s ready to go ahead and set the table,” her father now intoned.

She nodded and then forced herself to get up and at the same time fight back the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks.

As she walked through the doorway into the kitchen, Hermione’s mother turned from removing a few dishes from the cabinets and smiled at the teenager. Hermione slouched towards the counter, looking down at the food prepared for Harry’s birthday, which, she thought to herself as she became a bit perturbed now, would be his last on earth if he didn’t show up soon!

“No sign of him yet?” her mother asked seeing the frustration in Hermione’s expression. Hermione just shook her head and began grabbing plates to set on the table.

“He wouldn’t tell me where he was going today, Mum,” she replied, her face becoming sullen and downcast again. “I just hope he didn’t apparate to that island again and get caught this time.”

Hermione then moved towards the table and laid out the dishes, glancing at the seat she knew Harry would take. It sat as empty as she felt in her heart.

“Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” her mother tried consoling her. “He’s never failed to keep his word before, so whatever the delay is, he must have deemed it important enough to take care of before dinner.”

‘Am I hearing echoes in here?’ Hermione thought to herself. Her parent’s always had the knack of repeating each other to her annoyance sometimes, but then again she had noticed over the course of time how much she and Harry had begun doing the same.

“Perhaps he went to visit one of your old professors, like you thought. Or perhaps…” her mother now spoke, turning her face towards Hermione with a smile and that look of delight in her eyes, “…Harry is looking for something special to give you?”

Hermione threw a sharp glance at her mother who was now moving food to the table.

“MUM! Please! “ she shot out, as though Harry were in the next room listening.

“What? Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing,” her mother replied still smirking.

“Mum, please don’t embarrass us again tonight. I want this night to be very special for Harry,” she pleaded with her mother.

“When have I embarrassed the two of you? Or just you, for that matter?” Mrs. Granger asked, acting incredulous at the accusation.

“How about last week? At the restaurant, remember?” Hermione stated, “you practically asked Harry if he had bought a ring for me.”

“I did no such thing! I merely asked him if he had visited the new jewelry store on Diagon Alley, that’s all,” she returned.

“And what exactly would Harry be doing visiting a jewelry store, Mum?” Hermione torted back, almost laughing despite herself.

Her mother laughed a little at seeing her daughter so flustered.

“I think Harry likes being poked at about the subject, actually. It seems to me that it embarrasses you more than him,” the tall woman with short brown hair spoke.

“Mum…” Hermione started, suddenly realizing that she had unconsciously rearranged the place setting in front of her several times now.

She had just about turned to walk back to the counter and retrieve more dishes when she was startled by two arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her backwards into the warm embrace she had longed to feel again since this morning.

Harry leaned in, pressing his face against hers and tightening his grip. Hermione finally breathed again after practically jumping out of her skin and giving out a yelp at his unexpected appearance behind her. He relaxed slightly, pulling back, and she spun around, ready to give him a look of supreme anger. But for some reason she couldn’t, seeing those green eyes sparkle at her and a huge smile breaking across his face – a smile that had always disarmed her no matter what the situation.

Hermione now had a flurry of mixed emotions, all of which were vying for prominence on her face – anger, worry, and that joy she felt just seeing her heart’s love. Harry, noticing the confusing look in her eyes, laughed a little, holding her even closer to him. She simply couldn’t refuse a small smile herself despite how upset she was with him. She finally forced the smile down and drew a serious but concerned look right at him.

“Where have you been?” she spoke with intentional sharpness.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione. But it took longer than I had anticipated,” he replied vaguely, still smiling at her.

She lightly slapped him on the shoulder, part out of relief that he was okay and part out of frustration at the ‘hell’ he had put her through over the past hour and a half. Harry let his head drop slightly, acknowledging his worthiness of the stripe, but for some reason was unable to erase that stupid smirk from his face. Did he think that this was amusing, in the slightest? Harry then turned his head to look at her mother.

“Hello, Mrs. Granger, sorry I’m late,” he spoke.

Hermione’s mother put down the large dish of potatoes in her hand and practically flew over to the dark haired teenager, giving him an enormous hug.

“That’s perfectly fine, Harry,” she said, shooting a glance and smile at Hermione who obviously disagreed. Her mother leaned back with that look she gave Harry almost all the time now - one of blissful happiness.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” she now added, “We’re so glad you could come tonight.”

“Thank you, so am I,” he responded and then turned to look at Hermione once more. Her mother had resumed setting the table with their dinner and Hermione moved towards him again.

“I knew I shouldn’t have given you that Pop-Off, sneaking up behind me like that,” she said with a partial smile, half joking with him but still feeling quite upset at his tardiness.

But Harry just stood there, a brightness on his face that she had not seen in a while, and which now gave her hope that he might have finally have found what he was looking for. This hope in turn bred another just as quickly in her acute mind. Maybe…perhaps… She was now very puzzled at the smile and expression on his face.

“Harry, what is it?” she asked fervently, moving in a little more towards him. But his smile only increased and that look of longing in his eyes seemed to communicate something warming to her soul, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said quietly and simply.

Hermione’s heart raced suddenly and she felt her face become flush with redness. Could he possibly mean… Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried mentally to reach into him and pull out whatever ‘secret’ he seemed intent on keeping from her at the moment. Her curiosity was now in overdrive.

“Well there you are, Harry. Glad you could make it. Happy birthday!” Mr. Granger broke in on the tension between them.

“Thank you, sir. I apologize for the lateness,” Harry responded, letting go of Hermione and turning to shake her father’s hand.

“Oh, never mind that. We were just about to start now anyway. Please, take a seat,” he returned with a pleasant smile on his face, motioning Harry to his ‘regular’ chair.

Harry walked around the table and sat down. The continued half-smile on his face even when not looking at her, was absolutely killing Hermione. He’s doing this deliberately, I know it. What in the world has happened to cause such a change in him since this morning? Now the meal itself would seem to take an eternity.

She walked around to the other side to sit next to Harry and briefly caught her mother looking at her, eyes wide and another smirk that told her she was in for yet another barrage of embarrassing ‘comments’ in front of Harry this evening.

The four of them had gotten through most of the meal without too much incident, but the tension between Hermione and Harry was terribly obvious to her parents, even if it was of the good kind. Every so often she would look at Harry who seemed to notice and smile on cue as though he was enjoying the torture he was putting her through, but it was hard not to smile back at him too. She loved him more than anything in this world and hoped that this business of his ‘destiny’ was finally resolved, at the least so she could see him happy once more.

“So, Harry. Hermione mentioned that you were thinking about selling your Godfather’s house at Grimmauld Place,” her father asked, ending a rather dull discussion between him and her mother about their dentist practice. Harry nodded in response, waiting to finish a bite of his food before answering.

“Actually, I’ve already hired an agent to put it up for sale. I had them set it up this afternoon,” he now spoke, turning his head slightly to see Hermione’s reaction.

Hermione stopped chewing for a moment, turning to glare at him, eyes wide, hearing this for the first time. She knew he had talked about selling the old house but this came as a shock. What else is he planning on doing now? But she quietly resumed eating, still working every possibility out in her head.

“Really. That’s interesting. And where are you planning to live after it is sold?” her father continued the conversation.

“I went ahead and put money down on a nice flat in Soho, up above street level, not too far from the Museum,” he answered.

Now there was the distinct sound of a fork dropping on a plate as Hermione turned her whole body to face Harry with another curious expression of surprise. Harry turned to look at her and again hit her with that big smile of his.

“Yes, Hermione. The same one,” he told her, knowing that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were now looking at each other in puzzlement over the hidden understanding between their daughter and Harry. But they didn’t dare interfere in the obvious, unspoken interplay between the teenagers. Hermione once again returned to eating the rest of her food, her mind in a state of concerned anticipation over what further ‘surprises’ Harry might reveal tonight.

“Well now,” Mrs. Granger broke in on the sudden silence, ”how was your meal, Harry?”

“Excellent. Thank you. I was really looking forward to this again. You always cook so well, Mrs. Granger” he replied. Hermione snorted, trying not to choke on her meat. Harry now cast a look of incredulity at her.

“Why thank you, Harry. We have a cake for you too, don’t we dear,” she now said, her head unmoving but her eyes turning towards Hermione very intently. “Hermione baked it herself actually – took her all afternoon,” she told Harry with another smirk while getting up to take her dishes to the counter.

Hermione’s face turned scarlet while she poked at her food and tried not to grin. Harry nodded his head in amazement at the idea. Hermione then slapped him in the leg with her free hand under the table. No comment from you, smarty! Mr. Granger, finishing the rest of his dinner then sighed.

“Well, we sure are going to miss having Hermione around here when school starts again, aren’t we dear?” he asked the woman at the kitchen counter who was cutting Harry’s cake.

“Oh yes, terribly. She’s been such a sweetheart, with all her help around the house,” her mother replied, almost sounding sarcastic with the last words of her comment, and the same fork again dropped onto the emptied plate. Hermione was really trying not to look embarrassed now.

“Yes, you’ll be off studying hard again, honey, I daresay, but I’m sure you’ll do just as good as you always do,” Mr. Granger said smiling with pride at his daughter. She glanced up at him and returned his smile.

“Probably even better, since she won’t have me to distract her anymore,” Harry put in. Hermione once again paused, curious at his statement.

“And exactly what are you implying, Mr. Potter?” she quizzed him pointedly, wondering if there was some hidden meaning behind his words.

“Just that we barely passed our exams last term…because you couldn’t keep your hands off of me,” he chided her jokingly.

A big smirk crossed her face now as she nodded back at him.

“I couldn’t keep my hands off of you? Who was it that grabbed me and dragged me behind those shelves in the library so fast, sending all those books down on top of our heads, making Madam Pince furious and subsequently getting us into detention,” she torted back. Harry almost spit his tea all over the table trying not to laugh.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger too tried holding back a laugh behind their amused faces at the exchange between the two of them, her mother then deliberately cleared her throat in some vague communication of her thoughts to her daughter. Hermione just shook her head. What is this, Pick-On-Hermione-Night?

Her mother now brought the cake to the table and handed a piece out to each of them. Hermione waited breathlessly for Harry to finish his first bite, unable to look at him directly and expecting the big ‘slam’ any moment. Instead, she felt his hand grasp hers under the table and gently squeeze it. She knew instantly what he was saying to her and her cheeks flushed beet red.

Maybe it was that strange connection between them again, but his unspoken ‘thanks, this is really good’ came through loud and clear somehow. Hermione’s heart leapt at the thought of the silent compliment he had paid her. He didn’t know how much it meant to her that he praised her efforts to make him feel so special today. She tightened her grip on his hand in return and both of them simply finished their cake in total silence.

Harry started to get up and take some of the dishes with him to the counter, something he did partly to be considerate towards his hosts and partly out of habit from so many years of doing the same at the Dursleys.

“Oh, no, Harry! Leave that be! John and I will clean all this up. You two probably want to be alone. I’m sure you have something important to discuss,” Mrs. Granger spoke, again smiling, taking the plates out of Harry’s hands.

“MOTHER!” came the intentionally suppressed exclamation from a wide eyed and again red faced Hermione. Harry simply looked at Mr. Granger and they tried their best to bury their own grins.

Finally the two eighteen year olds left the table and walked out through the French doors leading to the backyard. The sun was lower, but was nowhere near setting yet, on this British midsummer’s day. Harry and Hermione both walked towards the fence at the back of the lawn, each of them silent and just taking in the beauty of the surroundings. After almost reaching the fence, they stopped and just stood still for several moments. Hermione, who had been glancing at Harry every few seconds since leaving the house, began to get a little restless.

She had been waiting anxiously since before dinner for Harry to tell her what he was going to say and she thought she would burst if he didn’t spill it soon. But He had become very solemn after they left the dinner table and it was clear to her that he was in deep thought over something. But what? What is it, Harry?!? Her face was contorted in puzzlement, watching him look off into seeming nothingness, a little anxiety in his expression.

But she was afraid to say anything lest it be that particular THING and she didn’t want to ruin the moment. On the other hand, she struggled to keep herself from grabbing him and turning him towards her to draw out a confession just to satisfy the fiery curiosity that was turning her inside out right now. He turned to look at her and she felt butterflies in her stomach suddenly, her heart racing at the anticipation of the next words out of his mouth. But he remained quiet and deep in thought, looking right into her eyes. She took his hand with both of hers and began caressing it lovingly…waiting.

“Harry, what? What is it?” the words came so intently, Hermione being unable to hold back any longer.

He smiled at her and began to speak…

Disclaimer: All characters, events and references drawn from HP belong to J.K. Rowling, etc., respectively, everything else is my own invention.

FULFILLMENT

PART FIVE

“Hermione…I found it. I found what I want do to!” Harry finally said, his voice raising in excitement.

The steaming locomotive that was Hermione's beating heart, suddenly hit the brakes and came to a crashing, anticlimactic halt.

“Oh, really...Harry...that's great. I mean...that's GREAT!” Hermione blundered out at him, finally beginning to grasp what he was telling her. She just knew he had seen the sudden change in her expression from on-the-edge anticipation of one thing to the shock of quite another and she felt terrible embarrassment at her own eagerness for something she longed so much to hear from him. 'Hermione, you idiot! Back off a bit and give him some space will you?', the words blasted through her mind. But if Harry had noticed her reaction, he wasn't showing it.

“So...what is it?” she asked him, forcing a smile and moving closer to him, grasping his hand even tighter.

She was trying hard to suppress her own disappointment that seemed determined to overtake her mind no matter how much she wanted to disown it. But thankfully her curiosity barged in as well and began to roar up in anticipation of what apparently was the answer to this whole ordeal between them.

“You've heard of Veilers before, right?” Harry asked, assuming she had at least read of them in a book somewhere.

“Veilers. They look for old spells and other kinds of magic,” she responded, now wondering at the dark haired boy before her.

Harry smiled again,his expression revealing the deep pride he had at her vast knowledge of the wizarding world.

“Yes! They travel the world, searching for clues and information that might lead to the discovery of magical forces we haven't yet known or that others had discovered long ago.”

Harry reached out, taking her hands into his now and moving a little closer. Hermione suddenly felt a spark of hope in her heart once again, but was ever so cautious.

“I visited Professor Lupin this morning. He told me all about them and that...my parent's were Veilers for a short time before they had me,” Harry continued. Hermione was somehow not terribly amazed at this fact, despite it being new to her thoughts. “In fact, Lupin told me that my family has been doing this for ages – that's how they made their fortune, Hermione.”

“Really,” was all she could utter at the moment, the realization of what this could mean for both of them slowly creeping in on her.

Harry released her hands and turned to look up at the slowly darkening sky around them. He still had a brightness in his expression that despite her hope, that it was for something else, made her feel so glad for him now. He was beginning to look like the old Harry once more – her Harry was back. Or was he?

Hermione for some reason felt a little uneasy seeing the apparent 'completeness' in his demeanor, something that used to bother her long before they had ever confessed their love for each other. It was a look he used to have that he was so caught up in what preoccupied him at the moment, he would unknowingly leave her 'out of the picture'. This was what had caused her, all those years ago, to think that he really wasn't interested in a deeper relationship with her at all. Maybe he had 'found himself' now and no longer needed her like he said he did so many times before. No, please no, Harry. I love you so much...

Everything was so confusing now in her mind. The idea that he might go off without her was forcing it's way back into view and fighting hard against all the other emotions and thoughts that were spinning around in her head. She began to feel a sense of dread at the possibility of where this might lead. Yet she still hoped...

“You know that I have been wanting to travel and see the world, Hermione. And this will allow me to do that, but with a real purpose! I just can't believe how well this answers everything that I have been wanting to do! There's so much out there to learn and experience, and now I can really put myself into it!” 'Everything he's wanted to do?' Hermione thought to herself.

Harry had become so wrapped up in this thoughts on the matter it truly seemed as though he were the only one standing in the Granger's backyard. Hermione just stood there quietly, watching him, a mixture of happiness at seeing him so animated over the whole thing and yet sadness too. He had told her only a few months ago how he had felt he had been left behind by both her and everyone else at Hogwarts because he didn't know what to do, but now Hermione herself was beginning to feel left behind. Her well laid plans for school, and the excitement she felt at going, had suddenly soured in her mind at this revelation of his. Nothing of school or teaching or anything else seemed even close to interesting anymore. And she knew deep in her heart that she really only wanted one thing and wanted it more than anything else this world could offer her – to be with Harry.

He turned once more to look at her.

“The flat that I put money down on, Hermione, the one we looked at last year during our 'holiday', it will work great as a place to operate from. I've been thinking about buying it ever since we first saw it. The Professor told me that I should try to 'become' a muggle, to conceal what I was doing and I think that this new place would enable me to do that much better.”

He turned away once more looking out onto the horizon beyond the trees that lined the backyard fence.

“I know I will certainly feel much better there, instead of that old, dusty house. Of course, it will take time for the Ministry's Department of Magic Removal to clear out Grimmauld in case a muggle wants to buy it.”

“Oh, and another thing,” Harry suddenly stated, turning towards her again and reaching into his pocket. “Lupin gave me this.”

He handed the blue key to Hermione who took it and began gazing at it's design. Her eyes widened a little with the realization of what she was looking at. She glanced back at Harry with a stifled amazement.

“I know. I recognized it too when he handed it to me. So I need a favor, Hermione. I need you to come with me to Hogwart's and retrieve the box this goes too. Remus said that it contains a journal that my Mum kept when she and Dad were Veilers. It should tell me where they left off and I think that is where I can start. Of course, there's so much to do first...”

His words trailed off as he shook his head at what would have to be done to prepare for what now seemed, even to Hermione, an exciting lifestyle. It would certainly be plenty to satisfy her own love of knowledge and her intense curiosity. She continued to look at him, her arms crossed and still feeling the heavy weight of her longing for him in her soul.

Silence now overtook them both as they gazed up at the first few stars that had appeared in the deep blue of the ever encroaching night sky. Those same stars...the ones that had shone so brightly that night when they were together by the river. That cool, fall night when Hermione had been rescued by the boy she loved so much, the one who had not only saved her from certain death at Voldemort's hands but had rescued her very heart with his outpouring of love for her. The memory of that night was etched in her mind forever but now suddenly seemed to come into even sharper focus. She felt the tears trying to well up in her eyes, but with what strength she had, fought them back with the idea of a new hope she held fast to. She had made her decision now. She knew what to do...

“So...when do we start?” she asked simply, turning to look at Harry once more, the love she had for him coming through those deep brown eyes. Harry turned quickly to look at her with puzzlement.

“What?” he asked, full of surprise at her words.

“When do we begin?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm coming with you.”

“But...Hermione, you can't. You're already enrolled in Goodthorns, you start in a few weeks.”

“I don't care about that. I'm going with you.”

“Hermione...what about your plan to become a teacher? I hate to see you give all that up, not when you would do so well at it.”

“Harry, I said I don't care about that,” she said, a deep pain striking her heart as she moved towards him, once more taking his hand into hers. She sighed, now wanting to reveal what she had kept hidden so long.

“The only reason I wanted to go to the school was because I thought you would stay in Britain. I just wanted to at least, be near you, Harry. But now...the idea that you will be off, halfway around the world and I would be 'stuck' here...it frightens me more than anything. I just want to be with you.”

“But you'd be throwing away such a great opportunity, something you've been dreaming about...”

“I'm not throwing anything away, Harry. You saved me, remember? You brought me back. I wouldn't even be here right now if it wasn't for you. Wherever you are, that's where I belong...”

Her voice began breaking and she couldn't finish. So many memories of their ordeal last year came through vividly, as though she were reliving them and her eyes began watering. Didn't he understand? Couldn't he see how much she loved him? How she couldn't be without him?

Harry's head dropped slightly and he sighed. She became even more concerned as a huge frown broke over his face. What is he thinking?

“I'm not going to change your mind on this, am I?” he asked very solemnly. She shook her head at him, wiping her eyes and trying to be as strong as possible. He needed her as much as she needed him and she would fight for the both of them. She loved him too much...

“You know me – stubborn,” she responded now, trying to bring out a smile. Harry gazed at her again and his face saddened. She felt a chill at the sight.

“Hermione...I can't have you running around with me like this,” he said slowly and painfully. 'Oh no', she thought as the fear in her heart started to slowly overshadow her like some dark predator ready to take her life.

“Unfortunately, you leave me no choice. I'm afraid there's only one thing I can do now,” he uttered.

Whatever strength she had began to crumble at those words. She simply couldn't believe this was happening. How could he do this? Hermione felt a terrible loss in her soul that seemed to destroy any resistance to what he was telling her. His words seemed almost unreal now considering everything they had been through together all these months.

“Harry...” she said brokenly, feeling the tears form in her eyes once more.

He reached into his right pocket where she earlier had watched him place the Pop-Off she had given him. He apparently had grasped hold of it and began drawing it out. Her heart now sunk even lower. She again couldn't believe what Harry was doing. He was actually going to give back the birthday gift she had given him, something she had put so much though into. She slowly shook her head and just allowed the full brunt of the pain she felt to overwhelm her. Without him, there could be nothing else.

“Harry...no...” was all she could say, watching him bring the Pop-Off out in his fist.

He reached out and took her hand, turning it over until her palm faced upwards. He then set his closed fist on top of it and paused briefly. Finally he let go and she felt the cold metal of the Pop-Off drop into her trembling hand. The tears started to fall now.

Harry drew his hand back and just stared at the pitiful sight in front of him.

She looked at him with such an expression of pain, her arm still outstretched. She then glanced down at her hand and thought that the tears in her eyes had messed up her vision – there was no Pop-Off! In it's place was the cold metal of a shiny, gold ring with a small, sparkling diamond recessed in the band itself. Her heart stopped at what she was seeing or thought perhaps was imagining. She couldn't believe it! Was this real?

Hermione shot an astonished look at the teenager in front of her, who now had a small and uncertain smile on his face.

“Will you?” he asked simply, almost boyishly.

The words were now a shock to her. She was actually hearing him say that – something she had heard a thousand times in her heart but never from him. She looked down once more at the absolutely beautiful ring she held in her hand.

“Of course...of course,” she spoke in a trance, now fully realizing what had transpired between them. Looking up at him once more, a burst of half laughter and half cry came out of her mouth.

“YES!” she said desperately, still dazed and feeling odd at actually speaking the word. But nothing could hold her back now.

Hermione leaped forward and wrapped both arms around Harry so tightly. He in turn did the same, pressing his face against hers and holding her as though he had not done so in ages. Every emotion, every thought and every thing they had been through for so long now seemed to fall heavy on them both and they grasped each other even tighter at the overwhelming feelings that were clearly being shared.

Leaning back, Hermione saw that enormous smile on Harry's face once more, his breathing rapid and tense. He apparently had been terribly nervous at what she would say to him. But none of that mattered now as he leaned forward and pressed his lips so strongly against hers, practically picking her up in his embrace. She groaned at the amazing tenderness and strength of the kiss, feeling a shiver down her spine as her whole body seemed to react to his connection with her.

After eternal moments, they came up for air and Harry continued to hold her fast to him like he was trying to catch up on months of being deprived of fully 'being' with her. He leaned his forehead against hers now.

“I knew that wherever this path was going to take me, I would be going to so many places I've not even heard of and I couldn't stand the idea of going without you. I wanted you to experience it with me, Hermione. To know you were beside me, to feel you lying next to me at night, so that we could share whatever may happen out there, together. Besides, I need a good research assistant – someone who's book-smart and cleverer than I am.”

They both laughed a little and Hermione silently studied Harry's face, words failing her at how happy she felt at the moment and how much she felt for the man she stood in front of.

“Here...” Harry spoke, reaching over to take her arm from off of his shoulder. He then grasped her fist that was closed tight around the ring, something she had practically forgotten about because of the intensity of the moment between them. He gently opened her fist and removed the ring that was now wet with the perspiration of her hand and with a smile, he wiped it on his shirt. She smiled back and then felt butterflies in her stomach once again as Harry took her left hand and slowly placed the ring in his proper place on her finger. She stared at it in wonder.

“So you don't drop it,” he told her with a smirk on his face. He started to let go of her, but she grabbed his hand again with both of hers.

Everything seemed different in her eyes now. So much hope and brightness seem to lay before both of them. They had finally made it. But now her curiosity kicked in once more.

“How long have you been planning this?” she asked him. He smiled again, seemingly caught up in looking over every detail of her expression.

“Several months now, actually. Before we finished at Hogwarts,” he replied. She shook her head at him and then suddenly the remembrance of everything that had happened this night came back. Her expression became stern and she reached up and punched him hard in the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” he reacted with surprise, but still smirking at her.

“For making me think you were going to leave me! And for teasing me!” she returned, trying to act serious, but she knew Harry could see her delight in the whole episode. He laughed again and drew her close to him, kissing her on the forehead. She then moved in, tightening her grip on him, her nose brushing against his.

“I love when you tease me,” she now told him, almost breaking into tears again. They kissed once more, trying to lose themselves in it if possible, but then Hermione remembered something and she leaned back.

“I think we should tell Mum and Dad about this. Mum has been absolutely dying, all these months, over whether you were going to ask me or not. I think she will finally be able to breathe again.”

“I think they already know, Hermione,” Harry replied looking up at one of the windows on the back of her house. She followed his gaze to the bedroom window upstairs.

Her parent's were staring down at them, her mother's hand on her mouth, as her father waved at them. They both smiled back and turning, walked back towards the house in each others arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

Harry slid the blue tinted key into the lock mechanism on the front of the plain metallic box. He turned it twice until he heard it click. He let go and the key dissolved into a wisp of smoke and the lid slowly opened. Inside was a black notebook that still looked new despite it's age. He reached in and took it out, holding it before him silently to take in the immense meaning of what it was. It was a piece of his parent's lives, something they had left for him and he was now ready to claim their way of life for his own...

It had been several days since Harry's birthday and already news of the engagement had reached practically every wizard or witch in the world, bringing Harry and Hermione into the limelight once more. Everywhere they went, people wanted to see the 'thing' on Hermione's hand, as though that would finally convince them that the boy AND girl who lived were finally going to marry.

Harry had especially been amused at the sight of Ron scanning the gold band on Hermione's finger and with a contorted look simply commented - “Don't you think it's a bit small for her, mate?” Harry thoroughly expected Hermione to blast him with some retort but was instead amazed at the sight of her grabbing an astonished Ron around the neck and giving him a tight hug. Apparently she had taken that as a compliment.

After deliberating over plans for a date, time and place, they decided that the ceremony would be held by the lake on Hogwart's school grounds, on precisely the day the two had first met seven years ago on the Express, headed for their first year of school. After that, they would move into the flat in London, something they had jokingly talked about on their 'holiday' together the previous year but now were actually going to live out.

They then made their way to Hogwarts to retrieve his parent's journal, but Professor McGonagall was unable take them to the vault, so Hermione had to lead the way. But before they started their descent, the Headmistress shocked both of them with a wedding gift on behalf of her and the entire school – 50,000 gold galleons, deposited into Harry's vault at Gringots. Harry objected at first, since he still had a large portion of his inheritance available, but McGongall insisted that it was nothing compared with what the the two of them had done for the school over the years and that this money wasn't simply a gift, but an investment. Hogwarts would be the first to benefit from anything the two of them might discover out there and hopefully, in turn, the school would be better prepared for another 'Voldemort', should that ever occur.

After showing Harry all the fascinating items she had seen on her first visit to the vault, they finally made their way to the alcove containing the box. Inside the dimly lit room, there were many boxes, all of which apparently required these keys that Dumbledore held in his possession for so many years. The two of them wondered what other items these boxes held and to whom the keys belonged that opened their secrets. Then, going on a description given by the Professor, they finally found it...

As Harry began to open the journal and turn it's pages, Hermione, who had been quietly watching him, moved closer, placing one arm around his waist and gently leaning her head against his shoulder, staring into the journal along with him. Harry's heart beat a little faster at seeing his mother's handwriting on each page, neatly set with dates and the occasional drawing of some figure, object or map that were indications of important finds she and James had made. As the two of them glanced over the pages, the journal seemed to take on the quality of some immense travel brochure with many familiar placenames popping up throughout – Tibet, New Zealand, Ecuador, Bolivia...

He began to turn quickly to the last entry, hoping to see where his parent's had gone before they went into hiding. Finding a blank page and then several after, he realized he was at that point in the journal. More than half of it was still empty and waiting for someone to finish. Going back to the final entry, it turned out to be very short:

November 17, 1979

I'm pregnant!

Harry felt the rush of emotion come over him at seeing those words and Hermione squeezed him gently, knowing what he was feeling. Turning back another page revealed a longer entry from the previous day and another placename that stuck out of the text like a sore thumb – the Giza Plateau, Egypt. He then brought the notebook closer and suddenly something fell out of the back onto the stone floor of the vault.

Hermione knelt down to pick it up. As she brought it up towards Harry, they saw it was a sheet of paper folded in half. She then opened it and began reading but suddenly stopped and handed it to Harry, giving him a look of compassion.

Harry started reading it out loud:

Dear Harry,

The fact that you are reading this note means that you are in the possession of our journal. I hope that you now know your family history and that Dumbledore has told you everything that your Father and I have been up to since before you so happily came into our lives. If you are reading this, however, it also means that we may no longer be with you in this life. If that is the case, I am so sorry my precious little one, that we could not see you grow into the wonderful man we know you will become. The terrible things that are happening around us right now threatens the very extinction of our world, although Professor Dumbledore assures us it will turn out well. I don't know how he knows that, but your Father and I asked him to look after you in the event we could no longer be able to do so. Also, if you ever run into any trouble, go to your godfather, Sirius Black. He and your Dad's other friends, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew will be glad to help you. Remember, my darling boy, no matter how dark things may seem, you are never alone. We love you and you will find there are many others out there who feel the same.

Love,

Mum

Harry felt his eyes begin to sting and water upon finishing the note. He slowly folded it and placed it back into the journal and stood silently for a moment, a wave of deep sadness falling over his thoughts and heart at what he had read. He had not felt such a longing for his parent's before, not even in his childhood. His head sunk once more, and Hermione reached over and kissed him softly on the cheek. She then moved in front of him and placed her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder. He held her in return, feeling her soothing warmth ease his mind in the coldness of the vault. They stood silently for several minutes in that darkened alcove, both of them feeling comfort in the others embrace.

They finally walked out of the alcove, moving slowly towards the aisle that led back to the entrance door. Both were in deep thought over the tremendous meaning of the path they were about to take together, Harry firmly grasping in his hand the unfinished journal – something which told both of the end of his parent's journey and the beginning of theirs. They had moved only a short ways before Hermione suddenly stopped. Harry turned and looked at her.

“Harry...” she simply said, looking across the aisle. He followed her gaze until he saw it too. There it was, just as he remembered it all those years ago. He could still recall every detail of his parent's faces in the tall mirror, he had discovered back in his first year, and also Dumbledore's stern warning to him. But now this strange mirror held so much more meaning for both of them and they gazed at it's worn surface a moment.

He felt Hermione squeeze his hand and he looked at her again. Her expression revealed the intense curiosity that always got her into trouble and she was now querying him unspokenly on whether they should look or not. A smile broke across his face.

“Why not?” he said to her.

She intertwined her fingers in his and both of them stepped forward before the Mirror of Erised. For many moments, they stared at the reflection of the two of them holding hands in front of it and once again thought that something was wrong with the mirror. But then Harry remembered Dumbledore's statement about a person who only saw himself in the mirror and therefore wanted nothing more – he had his heart's desire. Harry turned to Hermione and she looked back at him too. Perhaps the reason nothing was happening was because they both had their heart's desire next to them. They held in their hands the very thing they wanted most.

Turning to look at the mirror one last time, they smiled at the thought. But just as they were about to turn and leave, suddenly an image began to form. They jumped back into place before the mirror, waiting breathlessly for the image to come into focus. After eternal moments it finally did and Harry and Hermione both stood frozen, their eyes large and their mouths wide open at what they saw. Harry turned to look at her with astonishment and she gave back the same look to him.

But no sooner had she done so, then her face brought forth a warm smile at the boy with the lightning shaped scar.

THE END...FOR NOW...

A/N: Sorry to end it there, but unfortunately, like many of you, I have a lot of school work to focus on. So I thought I would finish this and take a break from the world of Harry Potter for a little while. It has been so much fun writing these stories but they have become a distraction lately. I had no idea how taxing it is to 'pour your soul' into something like this! ;)

This story was always intended to be a transition piece rather than a whole new adventure. That's something I might do later, if I can come up with a great story on the 'further adventures of Mr. And Mrs. Harry Potter, Magic Veilers...' :) However, if anyone has read this, liked the idea, and are so inclined, feel free to pick up the mantle and write something yourself on this new career path for Harry. I would be interested to see what new kinds of magic you come up with and other ideas, perhaps involving encounters with Snape and Malfoy somewhere out in the world.

Anyway, thanks again to everyone who reviewed the story. I am happy that you guys liked it and I hope it was a satisfying return to the world of 'Foresight' that answered the question of 'what-happens-to-them-now?' This one was for you...