Disclaimer.
The characters and universe created by J.K.Rowling are hers alone. As imitation is the sincerest form of flattery I hope this story can be taken in that way.
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Forever Together, written by Solomon Aegis is a trilogy that follows the characters that appear in the Harry Potter books originally written by J.K.Rowling. The characters are removed from the original series at the end of the fifth book `Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix' and plunged into the world of Forever Together.
Here the characters form attachments that Solomon and many other people hoped would follow, that the hero would get the heroine, and the sidekick would get the girl that has obvious affection for him. That the bad guys would get their just deserts and the good guy's their rewards, but in order for that to happen, sacrifices would have to be made. That friendship and love given and accepted without reservation is the most powerful magic of all. That in the end there is hope for the future, not just of the characters concerned but for everyone. Mix in to this a bit of the legend of Merlin and Avalon, some original characters, and some locations that exist in the real world, wherever that is, and you have Forever Together.
I am sorry this has taken so long and to be honest the tale is not finished yet, but hopefully there won't be any long breaks between instalments. This has been the hardest one to write, to try and keep the time line correct and not loose sight of any of the new characters was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I hope there aren't too many mistakes, let me know if you find any, and I will do my best to correct them.
So Voldemort is dead, the Tyr have triumphed, but there have been losses. Dumbledore is gone, so is Snape, but at least the hero did get the girl in the end. The evil was destroyed, or was it; was it only Voldemort's insatiable drive which led him to be so bad, and what of Draco Malfoy. Is Harry and Hermione's life ever after a happy one or not.
Hope you like it.
Solomon.
Chapter 1. The Things We Wish For.
London, 1962.
A gentle breeze rustled the last few remaining autumn leaves clinging to the branches of the trees that lined the street. It had been raining all day but now as the evening darkened it had ceased, and left behind it that cold but clean smell to the air. The road glistened with wetness in the illumination of the street lamps that were starting to light up. The boy had slipped out of the house without his parents seeing him, not that he really cared if they had. At only twelve years old he had a rebellious streak in him that confounded both his parents and his teachers at school. He was clever, there was no doubt of that, but it was the sort of intelligence that would either lead to greatness or depravity.
The streets he was leaving behind him, as he walked away, were full of expensive houses and well-off families, one such was his own, but he preferred the darker seedier parts of town where he could escape from all that middleclass goodness.
He had few friends at school, most of the other kids thought he was a bit of a bully, but he preferred not to have the distractions of friends, friends only got in the way. He spent many nights such as this wandering the streets not really sure what he was looking for, but something drove him on. It was only the start of the swinging 60's, the depressing 50's hadn't left this part of London yet, the area he walked had a rather unsavoury reputation, but the boy liked the dark and dingy alleyways that crisscrossed the locality. If he was lucky he might see something to pique his imagination, he wanted excitement, and he wanted danger, a challenge to the sort of life he was destined to lead.
This particular evening he was walking quietly over the damp ground avoiding the many puddles that formed in these dingy alleyways. There were no functioning street lamps around here and the closeness of the buildings made the alley quite dark, the boy moved silently between the rubbish bins that lined the walls of the lane. He had seen a window with a single light shining from it and that became his goal. He reached it, and using his hands to pull himself up by standing on the very tips of his toes, he could just see over the sill. It was disappointing, only a store room full of boxes and other containers which could have held just about anything. Then possibly some action, the door on the side of the room away from the window began to open and a hand appeared fumbling to one side of the doorway, it found the switch and turned off the light.
As the light went out there was a `CRACK'. The loud noise made him jump and crouch down next to the bin he had been about to climb on. There was a man in a long cloak standing not ten feet from him, but the boy went unnoticed. The man took a few steps away down the alley, then removing what must have been a long match from his pocket, lit it and studied the shadows. The boy thought it must have been a very special match because it burned with a bright white light and didn't seem to get any shorter.
The man was nervous, he was breathing as if he had been running hard but there had been no sound of hurried footsteps. The man turned quickly, this way and that, holding the light above his head so that he could see into the shadows, the boy would soon be discovered, his hiding place was not well concealed. The man moved closer to the boy, then turned away at the last moment to a sound on the other side of the alley. A cat shot out from under a pile of boxes that had been carelessly stacked against the wall. The man froze then relaxed when he realised that the animal could do him no harm. Then there was another loud `CRACK' and both boy and man jumped this time, a second man had appeared, it seemed out of thin air, but that was impossible.
The first man gave a shriek of fear and backed away from the second. The second man raised his arm, … he had a gun, … no he didn't, he had a stick in his hand and he pointed it at the first man. Then he spoke.
"You have failed me for the last time," his voice was full of menace and hissed like a snake, "you are a fool and I will not tolerate anything but the best from my followers."
The boy saw him wave his stick in a weird pattern and shout what sounded like `ABRACADABRA'. From the end of his stick a green something streaked down the alley making a screaming noise rather like a firework.
The first man cried out "NO PLEASE MY LORD I………." but the words stopped as the green firework hit him in the chest. The boy expected him to burst into flames but the green thing disappeared as it hit him and the man collapsed to the ground.
The second man lowered his arm and the boy was looking directly at him when with another `CRACK,' he vanished. For a while the boy didn't dare move, he just stared at the dark shape on the ground a little way down the alley. Then his curiosity could be denied no longer, he crept closer to the body and stared down at it.
He thought the man was dead, his face contorted in fear was fixed, and his eyes were open, but not seeing anything. On the ground by his side lay the match the man had been holding, the boy looked at it then reached forward and picked it up. It wasn't a natural twig, someone had made this, it was polished and smooth. At one end there was a handle and at the other there was no sign that the flame the boy had seen coming from it had damaged the wood at all. It reminded the boy of the music teacher's baton, the one he conducted the school choir with. He held the stick and turned it over in his hands, he couldn't stop looking at it. It was almost as if it had some hidden power.
The double, CRACK' that echoed in the alley broke the boy's concentration and he had just enough time to hide when two more men walked round the corner into the alleyway.
"They must be around here somewhere," one of the men said, "that unforgivable curse was tracked to this spot. Be careful Alastor, we don't want any more deaths tonight."
Then the one called Alastor saw the body and ran up to it calling to his companion. "Here, here, its Wilbert Lockinge, dead as a door nail," Alastor examined the ground round the body, "they've taken his wand as well."
"No point in hanging around, we don't want to be seen," said his partner, "let's get it done, and then we can get out of here."
The two men pointed their own wands at the body, it sparkled and flashed then faded away, and then like the killer these two men vanished in front of the open eyes of the unseen boy.
The echo of their departure had long died before the boy moved again. He stared back down at the stick in his hand, not a stick, a wand he corrected himself. If the boy had ever entertained any thoughts as to what he wanted to be when he grew up they vanished from his mind just as quickly as the men had from the alley. From that moment on he desired the power he had seen used that night, the power must have been real magic, it couldn't have been anything else. The boy was young enough not to question the evidence of his eyes, and he had the wand. He would learn to use it, to free the power it held, somehow he pledged, even if it took him his whole life.
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Hogwarts Grounds the day of the fall of Voldemort.
The heart rending cry from the young girl echoed back from the forest, and the flare from the stone of her necklace flashed briefly as she threw all her power and her very soul itself in an attempt to save the life of the boy who lay before her. As her soulless body collapsed the young man at her side shouted her name once, then using his own considerable power flung his soul after hers, not wanting to lose her. He began to fall as well, then suddenly a tall man with greying hair flashed into existence between them, and with a strength that belayed his size, scooped the lifeless bodies into his arms and vanished.
There was for the moment utter confusion, the doors of the great castle opened and people started to emerge. A small group that had been standing on the steps of the school ran towards the body of the young boy silent in its isolation. They picked their way through the debris of battle, then stood in a silent circle around the fallen child.
The giant was running up the hill from his cottage, with a cry of anguish on his lips and tears of sorrow falling from his eyes. In the bushes by the edge of the forest a dishevelled blonde haired youth looked at the wand held in his shaking hand, then turned and fled, desperate to get out of the grounds before anyone had the thought to look for him.
In all this confusion no one heard the POP as a decrepit house elf appeared next to a boulder a little way from the place that was the centre of everybody's attention. No one saw him advance to the small pile of smoking ashes that had once been the body of the most evil wizard ever to live.
The elf grovelled on his knees and picked up a handful of ashes then let them trickle back through his open fingers, there was no power left in these remains, the elf knew that now, no hope of reviving the body they had once formed. Then as he raked through the pathetic pile his fingers found something that did still have the promise of power. It was a wand, made of yew, with a phoenix feather as its core, in the hand of the elf it pulsed briefly and then in Kreacher's mind the wand spoke to him, it told him what he must do. The elf stared down at the wand, he was afraid but would do as he was asked. He slipped the wand under the foul tea towel that served as his only covering, and with another quiet POP he disappeared.
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The adventure was over, Voldemort was dead, and Harry and the Tyr had triumphed, but the victory had not been without its cost. Dumbledore, Snape and Austin Henry were gone, and it had nearly cost the lives of Harry, Hermione and Ron as well. The losses on the other side were much worse, but then perhaps they only got what they deserved. Draco Malfoy was the only Death Eater to escape, he was on the run and would probably be running for the rest of his life.
Hogwarts itself had been spared, the battle on the steps had stopped the Death Eaters cold and the minor skirmish in the hall had done little damage. But the school was changed; Slytherin was gone, replaced by a new house to honour the greatest Headmaster the school had ever had. Dumbledore Tower stood tall and proud, its students were taken from all those who had put themselves forward for resorting in that last term. They were led, however briefly, by Hermione Granger, her decision to walk the tables from Gryffindor to Dumbledore was hers alone, and no one was more proud of that decision than her fiancé Harry Potter.
Now school was over, the final meal eaten and the final words spoken. Harry, Hermione and the rest of the Tyr had walked their last walk down to the lake to say their goodbyes to the young lad who couldn't walk with them. Hermione wanted to stay but Harry gently led her back as the others departed, she leant against him as they walked and he comforted her in her sorrow.
"Remember what AH said to us," Harry reminded her, "we will meet him again."
"Do you really believe that Harry?" Hermione sounded uncertain, "are you sure it wasn't just a dream?"
"Oh it was real alright," he gave no suggestion of doubt, "if AH wants to be with us nothing will stop him, and somehow I don't think he will be the only one."
On the day they left Hogwarts for the last time as students, Harry and Hermione set up home in the small white cottage that nestled in the depths of Godrics Hollow. For the first time they could relax in as much isolation as they wanted and to start with that was what they did. It was a beautiful beginning to the summer that year, cloudless skies, gentle breezes and a peace that neither Harry nor Hermione had any desire to end graced the first four weeks. They spent their time walking in the hills that surrounded the cottage, soaking up the tranquillity of the countryside, and simply just being together.
Dobby the house elf was never far away; his self imposed life's work was now to look after the two of them, as far as domestic living was concerned. He would appear with a picnic basket or a cooling drink at exactly the right moment, smile shyly at the thanks he always received but never thought he had the right to expect, then vanish, never wanting to intrude.
Then at the beginning of August Harry removed the magical `Do Not Disturb' sign that he had strung around Godrics Hollow and the wizarding world had access to them once more.
At the end of their last term at Hogwarts they had set in motion a plan that would see the rebuilding of the orphanage destroyed by Bellatrix Lestrange and the founding of a school for the younger witch and wizard. Harry had inherited Black House in Sirius' will, it had spent a short time as Voldemort's headquarters but with his demise was empty again, and it was this large rambling building that was destined to rise again as Thrubwell's Academy.
Over the rest of that summer there was a trickle of visitors to the cottage, which as the plans for the conversion of Black House into Thrubwell's began to take shape, increased into a flood. The peace of their home was in danger of being swept away completely, so they decided to shift all work related meetings to the old mansion in Cumbria since it was the focus of all their discussions and matters could be dealt with `on site'.
The Black's old ancestral home was not in as bad a state as it had been first thought. The main structure was basically sound apart from the roof, but with the help two wizards Jo Muddiman and Claude Tubb who ran a wizarding building firm whose advertisement had stated "Indestructible construction, so if you change your mind once it's up, it's too late", this was soon rectified.
All the remaining members of the Tyr, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville, along with Madam Pomfrey and to Harry's surprise Professor McGonagall, were involved in these initial planning stages, but it was very clear to Hermione that Ron's attention was wandering.
"You can tell me Ron, I know there's something bothering you. You are hardly paying any attention in the meetings any more. What is it?" she asked him, as they finished for the day.
"Oh, that obvious is it," Hermione nodded and Ron continued, "It's just that I've been talking to Dad. You wouldn't believe the opposition our little project it stirring up in some quarters of the Ministry," he affected a pompous voice, "you know, `All too radical, "Wizards can't be expected to accept changes like this,' things like that. If we don't get the Ministry on our side then we will never get the go ahead." Ron sounded depressed but determined.
"I take it you are going to do something about this then?" Hermione said, worried as to what Ron's answer was going to be.
"Yes," said Ron, "I have applied to join the Ministry."
"What?" said Harry, not believing what he had heard when Hermione told him.
"Yes," she confirmed, "and they have accepted him."
Harry was confused, why accept someone they know has different thoughts to them, why employ trouble?
"They think they will be splitting up the act," she reasoned, "divide and conquer, and I imagine they will get Percy to work on Ron to win him over."
Harry smiled, "Not very observant these ministry types are they, I don't think they have realised the way in which Ron has changed." Harry laughed, "I can't help but feel sorry for Percy."
So Ron had left the company, but in a way he hadn't and not long after that Luna began to get withdrawal symptoms, although she was able to see Ron most weekends she hated them being as far apart as they were. So she decided that she needed to be in London and that the best place for her to be near Ron and to help the project was with her father at The Quibbler. Since the revelations of the true events of the defeat of Voldemort the Lovegood's paper had risen in popularity, even thought it still retained its quirkiness over some issues it always printed the truth about Harry Potter and that gave it credibility.
The four of the Tyr remaining, with Poppy, Harry could cope with calling her that, and Minerva, Harry had great difficulty with that one, continued to roll out the plans. Building work had taken up all the following year; the hardest task was how to deal with the large cavern under the house which Voldemort had used as a shelter for some of his lesser followers. Harry felt it had overtones of another Chamber of Secrets and he didn't want anything like that to rear its ugly head again, so it was lined and padded to make the only indoor flying arena in England. This made a safe place for the slightly older children to learn to fly their first brooms, and maybe learn the rudiments of playing Quidditch.
The most unpleasant part of the renovations had been the clearing of the rooms that Voldemort and his closest followers, the Death Eaters, had used to live in. Harry and Hermione had taken it on themselves to complete this part alone and they approached Voldemort's room with some trepidation. They needn't have worried, it was a bare cell with nothing in it but a hard bed with the dead body of Voldemort's snake Nagini coiled upon it. The room next to it was a different matter; Hermione had taken one brief look, cried out in horror and fled. Harry stayed but didn't look too closely; Bellatrix Lestrange had certainly had some very strange perversions. He may have used too much power with his cleaning spell as walls and ceiling were stripped down past the plaster and the floorboards vanished as well, but at least it was clean.
Eighteen months after Harry and Hermione had left school Black House was transformed and was Black House no longer. Thrubwell's Academy stood in its place, fresh, clean and shining in its coats of new paint; they were all very pleased with what had been achieved. Now all they had to do was convince the Ministry and that was going to be easy.
Well, not exactly easy, but certainly not as difficult as it would have been, but for two things. Firstly, that Ron's plan had worked, he had managed to get a lowly position in the department of education and by diligently toeing the line had advanced further in that department than the official who had given him his first job had expected or been led to expect, poor old Percy was in the doghouse again. Secondly, that Rufus Scrimegour was no longer Minister for Magic.
He had not lasted long, the backlash that resulted from his high handed approach to the defence of Hogwarts, the defeat of Voldemort, and the virtual discounting of the part played by the Tyr and Harry in particular, did not sit well with a majority of the wizarding world. The publishing of the photograph Mr Lovegood had taken of the Tyr, in the Weasley's garden, standing together the glow of their power still visible, and the fact that on that day every witch and wizard, however rich or however poor, had felt that love passing through them, had sealed his fate. For once in their lives the public face of the wizarding world stood behind one wizard. This wizard incensed on behalf of Harry and his friends had made his position very clear, and opposed the official Ministry line. He had perhaps been more outspoken than most, partly because both his youngest son and his only daughter were members of the Tyr, but also because that Molly would never have spoken to him again if he hadn't. So it was not by design, but more by default, that Arthur Weasley found himself sitting in the Minister's chair.
It had all come together at the beginning of that year, Arthur was inducted into his office just after the New Year, and halfway through January the application papers for Thrubwell's Academy were put forward. Even with the now willing help at the Ministry, it would take several months before all the procedures necessary to allow the school to open, could be completed. This left the occupants of the cottage in Godrics Hollow with a little time on their hands and so there was one other thing that was sorted out in that very cold month, and that was the date for the wedding of Mr Harry James Potter to a certain Miss Hermione Jane Granger and they decided that there was only one date that could be, the 14th of February.
Harry and Hermione had decided that their wedding would be small and private but there was nowhere in the normal wizarding world where this could be so. They had thought of having it at Hogwarts, but even there it would be impossible to prevent the publicity they desperately wanted to avoid. Avalon provided the ideal answer to their problems, only those invited would be able to gain access and this strange place had played a significant role in their relationship. It didn't hurt that it was now the home of Hermione's parents and Harry's surrogate Mum and Dad, Natalie and David Granger. Finally, now four years after Harry had saved their lives, and they in return had offered him themselves as stand-ins for his own parents, the connection was going to be made official.
The Grangers had tried to organise everything, not that there was much to do other than everything that usually goes with organising a wedding. The guest list, the venue, the food and those important people to conduct the ceremony, but these were muggles in a wizarding word and they felt a little out of their depth. Hermione was their only daughter and the Grangers wanted it to be perfect for her. They needn't have worried over anything, Avalon respected the wishes of the young couple for the ceremony to be plain and simple, but Avalon would make sure it would never be forgotten.
"I really can't imagine why they picked today for their wedding," said Molly Weasley, as she put a second coat on over her best robes. "It will be absolutely perishing and I am not going to be cold, even for those two," she finished, wrapping a thick woollen scarf round her neck.
Arthur Weasley smiled indulgently at her, he was only dressed in his smart Ministry robes as he would be officiating at the civil part of the proceedings, and he had been to Avalon before and doubted that the weather would be allowed to interfere with this particular event.
"If you're ready dear," Arthur said, to the bundle of clothes that was his wife, "our transport seems to have arrived."
He pointed out to the garden where a patch of mist was forming; this was a nimbus limen the doorway to Avalon, a wizarding village under the shadow of Glastonbury Tor, set slightly sideways to the rest of the world. The pair of them walked, well Arthur walked, Molly sort of swayed from side to side as her normal movement was somewhat restricted by the heavy outer garments, out onto the grass and vanished into the mist. They stepped out of the doorway at its other end to what appeared to be a balmy spring day; the welcome wizard bowed his head in acknowledgement of Arthur's office and then stared with some amusement in his eyes at the seriously padded form next to him.
"Minister, Mrs Weasley, welcome to Avalon," he managed, with a completely straight face, "if you would come this way, there is a cloak tent where you can freshen up before meeting the other guests."
"Thank-you," said Molly, with sweetness in her voice that suggested that her mode of apparel was completely normal. Then she spoke to her husband hissing through gritted teeth. "You wait till I get you home Arthur, you might have warned me."
The Minister for Magic said nothing but allowed himself a small smile that he was careful not to let his wife see.
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