A/N - firstly, this chapter was very hard to write and I'm not entirely happy with it. It was hard to know how someone would react to what happened in the last one when I have never, ever been or known anyone in a similar situation so if some of you find it a bit…unbelievable, I'm sorry. I tried.
Secondly, I don't think I have thanked you, my faithful readers and reviewers, for a few chapters now, so I'm sorry. I read every review and wish I had time to reply (but unfortunately I don't) - they really mean a lot so thank you, thank you, thank you.
Chapter 10
Hermione blinked hard and the world came into focus, though it took a moment for her to understand what had happened, what she had witnessed. The image of Harry sobbing in the middle of the forest, surrounded by bodies, flashed before her eyes.
She felt like being sick.
But she wasn't, instead she looked to the Harry who was sitting opposite her, his eyes closed and the small smile on his face contrasting harshly with the run of tears that continued to flow from his closed lids.
She let out a sigh of relief, knowing that at least one of the safe guards she and Stella had put in place worked - Harry was under hypnosis now, her invasion into his memories held at bay until his trance is broken. For the moment, he was at peace.
She turned to her right to see Ron opening his eyes and looking straight at her, his face sporting a large angry bruise just above his right eye.
"What happened?" she asked with no preamble, continuing to look around and not liking what she saw.
The room was a mess with bits of the walls and ceiling littered around the floor. Stella sat propped up against one of the walls, obviously unconscious, a trickle of blood escaping down from her mouth.
It was then Hermione realised she too was bleeding, tasting the bitterness of her blood as it slowly dripped from her nose into the edges of her mouth. Ignoring it she looked back at Ron.
"It was like nothing I've ever seen before," he started, reaching out to wipe away some of her blood with the corner of his shirt, then looking at Harry, who alone seemed unscathed, "is he alright?"
"He's still in a trance," Hermione explained, taking one of Harry's cold hands in hers, "at the moment its best to leave him there until everything is sorted. What happened? Is Stella…"
"She's alive," Ron answered quickly, "Harry hit her with this huge force not long after you went in. Shoved her back into the wall real hard. I checked her out though, I'm sure she's just knocked out."
"Merlin," Hermione gasped.
"It was like there were ten wizards in here Hermione," Ron carried on, unable to hide the awe in his voice, "when you…you let go of his hand, things were exploding all over the place. He started fires out of no where, conjured up creatures just to have them snarl and disappear…"
"What happened to your head?" she asked, trying to ignore the knowledge that it had nearly all failed because she had let go, even after her reassurances that she wouldn't. It was her fault.
"Harry kinda hit me," Ron explained with a shrug, "when I knew I was loosing you both and went in to bring you back...I… I don't think he wanted me to. That's when your nose started bleeding too."
Hermione sighed and looked back at the serene looking Harry, knowing that his peace was soon going to end. She was dreading the next step, which was to break him out of his trance, remembering everything. It was the most dangerous part for both Harry and those who could be affected by his magic - which meant her and Ron. If he was able to cause so much mayhem while supposedly safe within his unconscious, God knows what was going to happen when it all comes rushing back.
"Hermione, what went on? What…what did you see?"
She closed her eyes at Ron's question and immediately the image that Harry was forced to watch ran through her head. With a deep breath, she turned to Ron, knowing that the three of them had agreed previously he would see Harry's memories through Hermione, and that she had known this was going to happen. It didn't make it any easier though.
"Are you ready?" she asked simply - Ron just nodded.
Hermione felt Ron enter her mind roughly, his legilimens skills only developed for retrieving Harry and Hermione back if something went wrong - and for this moment. Hermione let him see what she had from the moment the grey had turned into memories to when Ron had arrived. He retreated as soon as Hermione told him he had seen it all and they sat staring at each other, lost in their own thoughts.
"Bloody hell," Ron uttered after a moment, "Hermione, what are we going to do? He saw…he thinks…bloody hell."
"I know," she whispered, fighting the tears that were threatening, knowing if she let them start, they wouldn't stop.
"No wonder he didn't want to remember any of this," Ron said softly, looking back at his friend.
"But he has to," Hermione stated firmly, also turning to Harry, "and we have to help him get through it, both of us, because I know…I can't do this on my own…"
Her voice cracked slightly as one tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it furiously away, took a deep breath and got herself under control in time to feel Ron reach out and hold her hand.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked. Hermione turned to him gratefully, glad he hadn't tried to comfort her at a time when all it would've done was help her break down. He had really grown up.
"I'm going to have to bring him back," she explained, thinking hard, "with Stella incapacitated at the moment, I'll have to break the trance. He…it will hit him, what he saw, it might go a bit crazy. If he did all this when he's not fully aware, it's going to be worse when he wakes…"
"If it's worse than what he's already struck us with, it isn't safe," Ron replied with a frown, "I don't think there's anyone alive who will be able to control him…"
"Maybe…maybe you should go then," Hermione said, hesitating slightly, "I mean, you have a family…"
"I'm not leaving," Ron stated, his frown growing into a scowl, "I wouldn't have a family if it wasn't for Harry and I'm not leaving him now. Besides, you need me."
"Thanks," she replied thankfully, "because I really, really do."
"Right, let's get this over and done with then," Ron carried on, "what shall we do?"
"Tread very carefully," Hermione said with a wry smile.
She then turned her attention back to Harry who continued to sit oblivious to all that was around him. Taking a deep breath, she began.
"Harry, can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Do you know who I am?"
"Hermione."
"Harry, I need to bring you back to us, bring you home. Will you let me do that?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember what has happened today? Where we have been?"
"Y…yes." Hermione cringed as a light above them exploded.
"Are you still at your happy place Harry? I need you to hang on to your happy place but you also need to remember…"
"Okay," Harry interrupted, sounding slightly panicked - a small fire started on the far wall; Ron quickly put it out.
"I'm going to help you wake now, but first tell me…tell me about your happy place."
"I'm sitting next to you on the couch at our house, you…you are reading, leaning onto me. I'm…holding you…"
Hermione paused and took a deep breath. Harry's happy place was something so simple, so boring, but it shook her to her core. It told her more than anything what his deepest desire was - normality.
"Hold on to that Harry, don't let that go."
"Okay."
"At the count of three, you will wake up and you will remember all, including how much you are loved, do you understand Harry?"
"Yes."
"Okay," Hermione paused and looked at Ron, who nodded that he was ready, "one. Two. Three."
Harry's eyes snapped open - but that was all she saw. In a flash, she was hurled backwards, hitting the wall with a heavy thump. She felt all her air push out of her as she landed in a pile on the floor and along with an intense, sharp pain in her side, she guessed she'd probably damaged a couple of ribs.
Trying to fight the pain, she raised her head in time to see Ron fall to the floor against the one of the other walls, the crack of bone breaking audible. He didn't move, his arm stuck out in a grotesque angle.
Hermione then looked at Harry, who was shuffling backwards madly, his eyes wide and full of fear. She could hear him mumbling 'no' over and over, frantic looks darting between Stella, Ron and herself.
Gritting her teeth, she struggled to get up, wincing as pain shot through her body. The room was buzzing with so much magical energy, she didn't want to chance using her wand so she held her damaged side with her arm and made her way slowly to where Harry was.
"Harry?" she called out tentatively - he turned and looked at her, his eyes growing ever wider.
"Get away from me!" he yelled, scrambling back faster, only stopping when he hit the wall, "you're not real!"
"Yes I am," she tried to soothe, still making her way to him, ducking as a piece of the wall went flying over her head, "what you saw, what Voldemort made you watch…"
"You're dead!" Harry interrupted, the tears that had briefly dried beginning to flow once more.
"I'm not Harry," Hermione continued, stopping inches in front of him, "remember? Remember your happy place, the place with me in it. Remember our home at Godric's Hollow. What you saw, Harry - that was a lie."
"No," he groaned, shaking his head with confusion before looking back at her, frowning, "no…this is a trick! You sound like Hermione but you're not her! You're the lie!"
She couldn't help letting out a scream as she was picked up by some unseen force and pinned against the far wall, several feet above the ground. The pain in her side was getting unbearable but soon that wasn't her major concern - she was loosing her ability to breathe.
"Harry!"
The grip on her lessened slightly allowing Hermione to frantically drag in some air to her protesting lungs. Still hanging and pressed against the wall, she looked down and saw Ron move as he called out, his arm held loosely at his side. Harry had turned his attention to the redhead, who was making his way cautiously toward him.
"Ron?"
"Yeah mate, it's me," Ron said quite casually, "you need to let Hermione go."
"This…this isn't her," Harry stuttered, glancing between Hermione and Ron before settling on Ron, "you…you're dead."
"I'm not dead Harry," Ron stated, "bloody sore, but not dead. How can I be? I mean, I married Luna and have two nippers, remember?"
"Married?" Harry repeated; the grip on Hermione lessened even further, letting her slip down the wall slightly.
"Yep," Ron tried to laugh, "ages ago now. I mean Artie is, what, two? Three?"
"Artie," Harry frowned, thinking hard, "Artie is my godson…"
"That's right," Ron agreed, "you and Hermione, you're his godparents."
"Hermione…" Harry groaned, looking back at her.
She felt herself be gently released, falling on the floor only because her legs could no longer hold her up. The air around the room began to lose its magical spark as things started to return to normal, but now she didn't have the energy to use her wand to take the pain away so she just lay there and gasped in air.
"Hermione," Ron exclaimed as he hurried to her side, "are you okay?"
"I'll be fine," she tried to say, but only a whisper came out, "you?"
"I'm alright," he informed her with a small smile, "arm's broken and a headache you wouldn't believe but other than that…"
"What about Harry?" she croaked, trying to at least sit up right - Ron gave her a hand before they both looked down the room at their friend. He had gotten to his feet but was standing stock still, watching them, "help me up," Hermione told Ron.
Leaning heavily on Ron's good side, Hermione got shakily to her feet as he helped her walk down the length of the room so they could stand before the unmoving Harry.
"I…I didn't recognise you," he tried to explain, "I still had the you from school in my head…your hair…I didn't…"
"It's okay…" Hermione tried to say but he quickly cut her off.
"It's not okay!" he shouted, making the hairs on her arms quiver with the rush of magic, "I nearly…I…oh God…" He racked a trembling hand through his hair.
"At least we know you've got your magic back," Ron joked, trying to smile - Harry just looked at him stunned. But he seemed to relax a bit, the fear abating slightly from his eyes and Hermione could tell he was thinking. Hard.
"I…I need my glasses," Harry said after a while, barely above a whisper.
"I'll get them," Ron quickly answered before turning to Hermione, "can you stand."
"Yes," she said, ignoring Harry's guilty groan, "thanks."
Hermione watched as Harry's eyes followed Ron to the slumped figure of Stella and saw whatever colour left in his face disappear as he staggered slightly backwards. She was about to reassure him that Stella wasn't dead when Ron returned.
"Here you go mate."
Harry took his glasses from Ron and shakily put them on. Now able to see properly, he looked around himself and saw the destruction he had caused, his eyes finally resting on Ron, then Hermione. He took a deep breath.
"I can heal you," he stated simply.
"Heal?" Ron repeated, looking between Harry and Hermione, "Harry, I'm not sure that's such a brilliant idea. I mean, you haven't used magic for over five years…"
"Thanks Harry," Hermione interrupted, holding his gaze, "I'd really appreciate that."
She knew she was taking a risk, that there was a chance he won't be able to control his magic, but she also knew that there was more of a chance that he could indeed heal her and Ron, even Stella. And there was a bigger chance he could do it without a wand.
"Hermione, I really don't think…"
But neither Harry nor Hermione really heard Ron's protest as she was transfixed by Harry who had raised his hand, the palm flat towards her body. She felt a tingle pass through her, and then a warmth that began in her lower trunk area and then spread throughout her being. The pain in her side was gone and the ability to breathe was once again normal - he had fixed her.
She turned to Ron, who was watching with his mouth open, his surprise obvious - Hermione smiled.
"Bloody hell," Ron gasped, staring at Harry, "how did you…?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged, "I just did. Do you want me to…?" Harry indicated to the useless arm hanging at Ron's side and Ron just nodded his acceptance. Hermione watched with interest as Harry re-set Ron's arm and healed the wound on his head, all in a matter of seconds. She could see the energy transfer from Harry to Ron, making her realise that normality was never going to be there for Harry, not if this gets out.
"Thanks mate," Ron enthused, testing out his newly fixed arm.
"I'll…I'll go and see if I can help Stella," Harry continued absently, as if on automatic pilot and without a second glance, made his way to the slumped Healer.
"Have you got any idea what's going on?" Ron urgently whispered to Hermione as they both watched their other friend.
"I have an idea," Hermione replied with a frown, "but…"
She didn't finish her sentence as saw Stella waken, look at Harry with shock, listen to whatever he was telling her, then leaving with only a small glance at them. Harry then walked back to where they were standing, his face grim.
"We need to talk," he muttered as he made his way to the wall, sat down with his back against it, rested his arms on his bent knees and hung his head wearily down, his shoulders slumped. Hermione looked at Ron quickly before joining Harry on the floor, sitting crossed-legged in front of him, Ron following her.
"Perhaps we should get Stella back…" she began tentatively, but was quickly cut off.
"I don't want to talk to Stella," Harry nearly growled, "I want to talk to you, both of you! I don't want anyone else involved!" He looked angrily at her before suddenly averting his eyes, hanging his head down once more. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.
"No problem," Ron tried to say as if it really wasn't a problem, but Hermione could see his unease, "so I guess we should talk."
"Harry," Hermione began, reaching out to take his hand, frowning when he recoiled at her touch, "what can we do to help?"
"Get rid of the images in my head," was the reply, full of anguish.
"Would you like us to obliviate you?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer. Harry was silent as he thought.
"I thought you said it was important Harry remembered," Ron quizzed, not really a question but a statement of fact.
"It is," Hermione explained quietly, "and Harry has remembered, releasing the magic that we knew had been held back. But we…we saw what happened…"
"…and it was all a lie," Harry whispered, "everything, it was all a lie."
"Yes," Hermione sighed.
"But how?" Ron asked, thinking, "I mean, how did he do it? When we found Harry, there were no bodies other than Death Eaters and Voldemort."
"I buried them," Harry groaned, closing his eyes, "I dug two graves…"
"Oh God…" Hermione cried suddenly, making him look at her, understanding instantly why she sounded so horrified.
"He used someone else," Harry frowned, sounding sick, "the bastard made two innocent people look like you and Ron and then tortured them to get to me."
"Who…who do you think they were?" questioned Ron glumly, looking between his two friends.
"There were twelve students unaccounted for," Hermione told them, trying desperately not to cry, "chances are it was two of them."
Harry hung his head as Hermione and Ron sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. But Hermione's brain was anything but silent as a million questions buzzed around. The horror of what Voldemort had done nearly overwhelmed everything else, but there were so many issues that needed to be addressed, to be fixed because she knew she was loosing Harry. The logical part of her understood that when he looked at her now, he saw her being taken by those monsters in the forest and that was the reason he wouldn't look at her for any longer than a few seconds, and why he pulled away from her touch.
But that didn't make things any easier.
"We need to find them," Harry said after a long while, finally breaking the silence, "we need to find them, find out who they are and give them a proper burial." Ron agreed and turned to Hermione as he did so.
She, however, kept looking at Harry as he removed his glasses before holding his head in his hands. For all his desire to talk, Hermione knew that he wasn't going to, not really. She and Stella had discussed in length what was needed and how to obtain it. Hermione realised it was time to put one of those plans into action; she just hoped it would work.
"Look at me Harry," she instructed briskly. He put his glasses on and glanced up at her for a moment before quickly dropping his gaze once more at the floor.
"Hermione, what are you…"
"He can't look at me Ron," Hermione interrupted harshly, "can you Harry? You can't bear to look at my face for even a minute - is it because I repulse you? Is it because what you see now is someone soiled by other men? Did you think that it looked like I was enjoying it? Or was Bella right…"
"Shut up," Harry growled ominously.
"But I can't shut up Harry," Hermione carried on, starting to feel scared but knowing she had to do this, "because we have to get rid of the images out of your head and we can only do that by obliviating them or talking about them, so I'm talking about them. About how you saw Ron die, how you saw me…"
"Shut up!" he yelled, standing and storming away from them. Hermione took a deep breath, tried to reassure the worried looking Ron that she knew what she was doing then got up and followed Harry.
"You saw me Harry, saw me be violated again and again. You watched as men abused me until I could no longer scream…"
"No…"
"When you look at me now, all you see is them and me; me …"
"You were enjoying it!" he screamed, finally facing her, the air once more charged and bristling with magical power, "the night with me, you never…not when I was in…you only…when I did…"
Hermione gasped as Harry exposed his reasoning. She tried hard to remember what she had seen and grimaced when she realised the poor girl who had been in her place had done what sometimes happened during a sexual attack - she had climaxed. Harry's point of reference was the night they had spent together, their first night, where they had both been nervous and unsure. He was right; he had pleased her but it had been through their explorations of each other and not because of the same thing that pleased him.
"Harry…"
"How can I touch you!" he carried on, his tears starting once more, "how can I be with you knowing that what was once so special is so horrible for you now! I'm no different than them!"
"Don't you dear say that Harry Potter!" she yelled back, "you are nothing like…"
"They did to you the same as what I did, the night before," he scowled angrily, "and I wanted to make Bella pay for what they had done to you, make her suffer like you did! I'm no better…"
"Harry," she began, edging closer to his glowering form, "when you and I are together, it is because of love, of respect and our sleeping together is a reflection of that. What happened to that poor girl, was something of hate and dominance, of power…"
"I nearly…Bella…"
"You didn't and you wouldn't…"
"I killed her…"
"You did what you had to do."
"I dug your grave with my hands," he sobbed quietly, his tears now falling freely.
"I'm not dead Harry," Hermione soothed, standing only inches away from him, "it wasn't me. You are the only man that has ever had me, and the only man that ever will."
He looked up at her then, staring at her with an intensity that made her shudder. But he didn't look away, he just kept looking at her, and she could see at last he knew what was real and what wasn't.
"We need to find them," he stated, his voice hitching with emotion.
"We will," Hermione replied, knowing that it was the two who had been killed in the forest all those years ago that he was referring to.
"It's nearly over," he breathed, his emotions finally catching up with him as his body began to shake with his cries. She took him in her arms then, holding him tight as he sobbed on her shoulder. Ron joined them and wrapped his arms around them both, his tears joining in Harry's and Hermione's.
It was an hour before the three left the room hidden in the bowls of St Mungo's. When Ministry official's swarmed the magical room to verify the rumoured power that Harry was supposed to have, they found nothing, all evidence hidden easily away. When they tried to find out more information on how Voldemort died, he gave them nothing more.
When the trio joined their family and friends, who had waited patiently for them outside, they told them that Harry had his memories and his magic back. They said that it seemed the previous tests were wrong and that his power was no different than anyone else's. They also said that what he had seen the night Voldemort had died didn't need to be shared any further. The secret remained with the trio.
A week later they were in a clearing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, all signs of the event that took place there hidden by nature and time. Hermione and Ron waited as Harry once again let his memories take over and it wasn't long before they found the make-shift graves, shallow but hidden by a barrier of magic Harry had left. They put names to the two set of bones that they found - Tania Smith, a fourth year Ravenclaw and Jack Howath, who had been a Hufflepuff - then, with the help of the Order, re-buried them with their families.
For Harry, things took a while to improve as at times he was still haunted by the images he had been forced to watch. But Hermione was there, as she always was, ready to help him whenever he needed it. And although there were still many hurdles for the young couple, they were happy. Contentedly happy.
Hermione's twenty-fourth birthday was one of the best she had ever had. She and Harry had gone to the Burrow and been spoilt by Mrs Weasley with her cooking and by everyone else with their presents and good humour. However, Hermione didn't realise the best was yet to come as they flooed home that evening full of food and perhaps one or two too many glasses of wine.
It seemed, however, that Hermione's night wasn't yet over as with a wave of his hand, Harry lit a number of candles that had been strategically placed, started some soft music and began a homely fire.
"Would you care to dance?" he asked her gently, offering her his hand. She smiled and took it gratefully, letting herself be drawn into his embrace.
"What a perfect day," she sighed, loving the feel of him in her arms.
"Molly definitely puts on a brilliant spread," Harry smiled.
"She sure does." Silence.
"Hermione, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure Harry," Hermione answered, pulling away from him slightly so she could look at him, "what is it?"
"Well," he started, softly running the pad of his thumb down her jaw, "you know that I love you, that you are everything to me. I would've died so many times if you hadn't been there, worrying and caring…"
"I love you too Harry," she interrupted, suddenly nervous.
"I know," he smiled, "it's just that, I can't imagine my world without you in it. Ever. So I was hoping that you'd agree to make what we have, you and me, permanent."
"What…what are you saying?"
"I'm asking you to marry me, to be my wife, forever. I want to have a family with you, I want to grow old with you - I want you Hermione, I need you. Will you marry me?"
She stopped and looked at the man standing in front of her, so different from the boy she met on the train all those years ago but strangely, still the same. He still had the wild hair and green eyes; he still had the scar in the shape of a lightening bolt on his forehead; he still had a look of cheeky innocence even after all he had been through and seen. But he also had strength, intelligence and understated power emanating from him without him even knowing. There was no mistaking he was a man, a man she loved, faults and all, with all her heart.
"Yes," she finally replied, letting a lone tear escape and roll down her face and laughing as he smiled the most amazing smile before wrapping her up tight in his arms.
A/N - one more chapter of lovely fluff coming up next week…