A/N - not too sure about this one - it sounded good in my head! Thanks for the reviews - love it, they're fantastic. Not too long to go in this story, probably a couple more chapters but my idea for the next one has been formed so…Oh, and I've finally done my housework, which often gets forgotten so I can write, therefore my guilt trip has gone. Yippee!! :o)
Chapter 8
23 Golden Snitch Lane was a mass of people, all happily celebrating Harry Potter's birthday. Hermione and Ron made sure they invited only those who meant something to Harry - which were really only those that fought beside him. Dean and Seamus were there. So were Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. Of course, all of the Weasley's and their respective partners and children were there, their trademark red hair a common feature.
Harry was having a ball, Hermione could tell. He had accepted his presents with his usual humility, cut his cake with a laugh and watched his friends get intoxicated with open amusement. Hermione kept a casual eye on him; making sure he wasn't over doing things but also making sure it would be a birthday he wouldn't forget.
It was Luna, however, who made sure he'd always remember his twenty-third birthday as during Seamus's impromptu yet exuberant rendition of the Val Morrison classic, 'Brown Eyed Girl' she calmly informed Ron she was in labour, and had been for the last five hours. As all those around her flew into a panic, she told Hermione she hadn't wanted to disrupt the party but she felt that having the baby on the kitchen floor would've been a bigger disruption. Hermione tended to agree with her.
Five hours late at four thirty four, August 1, baby Alba Harriet Weasley came into the world.
Harry and Hermione snoozed lightly as they sat outside the hospital room and waited for their turn to see the new born. They finally got their chance as dawn began to break, cautiously entering the room after a weepy Mrs Weasley informed them she and Mr Weasley were going home to sleep.
Hermione popped her head in to see Luna sat propped up in the bed, looking tired but happy while Ron stood at her side with a bundle of blankets in his arms, looking down within them tenderly. That sight alone brought tears to Hermione's eyes, but when Harry passed her and went directly to Ron to see the tiny baby, she the tears really began to flow.
Ron offered Harry a hold of his little girl and the exchange was made as gently as possible, so not to wake her. She sat comfortably in the crook of Harry's arm, his size dwarfing the infant. He tentatively reached out a finger to clear away some of the blanket covering her face, and this tiny little hand reached out and grabbed onto nothingness. Harry smiled.
"You have a little girl Ron," he stated softly, looking at the proud father.
"I know," Ron replied, gently stroking the little hand, "we had hoped but kinda thought my family history would be against us. But I think she's a Lovegood, this one. Not a red hair in sight. She's perfect, just like her mother."
Hermione quickly wiped away her stray tears as Ron and Luna exchanged a kiss while Harry continued to stare in wonder at the small bundle of life in his arms.
"Would you like to hold her Hermione?" Luna asked, drawing Hermione's attention back to the blond.
"Oh no," Hermione said hastily, "she's probably been passed around enough. I can wait…"
"Don't be silly," Ron admonished with a smile, "Alba needs to meet her aunt."
Hermione nodded and took the few steps to Harry, looking at the baby properly for the first time.
"She's perfect," Hermione breathed as Alba blinked open her blue eyes and squinted up at those looking down on her.
"Here you go," Harry whispered as he passed the slowly waking child over. Hermione had never held babies that much before going to India where she learnt quickly how to handle newborns. It seemed natural to her now, and as she stood there with the little bundle of new life in her arms, Harry standing beside her, one hand around her waist while the other playing with the baby's hand, she wanted this for herself.
She looked up at Harry at the same time he was looking down and could see in his eyes he wanted the same thing. She smiled at him before glancing back down at baby Alba, who was waking with vengeance.
"I think she wants mummy," Hermione said softly, handing Alba back to Luna, "she's beautiful."
"Thanks," Ron replied absently, his attention captured by his wife and child.
Harry and Hermione left them then, tired but contented as they made their way to the floo fireplaces at the end of the ward. They were nearly there when a very familiar voice called out to them - Harry cringed and closed his eyes, but Hermione grinned and turned to the woman making her way towards them.
"Mr Potter! Mr Potter," she called out quite authoritvely before shrieking, "oh my - Hermione!"
The two women hugged as Harry stood awkwardly by, but Hermione didn't care.
"Hello Healer Stephens," she gushed, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh tosh, call me Stella," the Healer replied, holding Hermione out at arms length, "I didn't recognise you! Your hair, it's fantastic! And look at you, tanned and toned! Not the pasty young girl I once knew - where have you been?"
"Here and there…"
"Oh, I can only imagine," Stella Stephens interrupted, "and I desperately want to find out but you both look exhausted. Weasley number two has arrived I take it?"
"Yep, four thirty this morning," Hermione stated as Harry didn't seem to want to talk.
"And young Mr Potter here was able to celebrate his birthday at last," she looked at Harry, who looked embarrassedly back, "we always had a cake on your behalf while you were with us."
"Right," Harry replied shortly, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but where he was - Hermione frowned.
"I haven't seen you for a while Harry," the Healer continued, returning once more to her professional mode.
"I've been busy," he told her, indicating with his eyes that Hermione was the reason for his absence.
"Ah, I understand," Healer Stephens smiled, "but we need to check that everything is still working as it should and if there has been any developments…"
"There hasn't…"
"We still need to che…"
"There has been no changes," Harry spat angrily - Hermione put a comforting hand on his arm.
"Harry, I understand your frustration and your dislike of this place," Healer Stephens said calmly, "but you still need to let us try and help you. I'd like you to come in for an appointment…"
"I can't…" Harry started to say.
"When?" Hermione asked at exactly the same time, ignoring Harry's angry glare, "we have nothing planned and can easily work in with you. I can drop Harry off here whenever you like."
"That would be brilliant Hermione," the Healer carried on, "shall I owl you?"
"That's fine."
"Perfect," she nodded with agreement, "and we'll sort out a time to get together and catch up as well. Well, must dash. I'll see you soon Mr Potter." With that, she was gone leaving Hermione alone with a very angry Harry.
"Harry," she started, wanting to explain that it was for his own good, that she wouldn't come in with him if he didn't want her to, that she was only doing what was best for him. But she didn't get a chance as he had turned on his heel and disappeared down the floo before she could even take another breath. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes wearily before following him and flooing home.
He was already in bed when she arrived; his clothes quickly discarded into a pile on the floor, his back facing the door as she popped her head into the bedroom to see where he was. She sighed once more.
Returning downstairs, she looked at the mess left by the hastily exited party and decided she'd clean up a bit before going to bed - one and a half hours later she had finished, all traces of the party gone. Dawn had already arrived, and with a weary groan, she slumped down onto the couch and closed her eyes, listening to the chorus of birds outside the window. Her twenty-four hours without sleep was finally catching up with her and she knew she should go to bed, but getting up seemed like such a chore. So she gave herself a few minutes just to rest her eyes before going upstairs and getting really comfortable…just a few minutes….
It was that odd time between being awake and being asleep, where the remnants of her dream was still fresh in her mind, the dream where she was standing there with Harry and it was their little girl in her arms, a mop of black hair already visible on her tiny little head. But the dream suddenly changed and Harry was gone, she could hear his voice calling out to her from somewhere - he sounded afraid.
With a start, Hermione opened her eyes, squinting frantically at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows.
"Hermione!"
She sat up and leaned over the back of the couch, fear making her heart begin to beat rapidly as she heard the anguish in Harry's voice from the stairwell. She saw him then, bounding down the stairs, dressed only in his pyjama bottoms, his glasses forgotten - probably still sitting on the bedside table.
"Harry, what is it?" she asked worriedly, "what's wrong?"
He turned to her when he heard her voice and the look of relief that flooded his face really scared her. He didn't say anything, but made his way to where she was kneeling on the couch, taking her face in his hands while he searched her eyes with his as if to make sure it was really her.
"You're here," he stated and then Harry Potter did something that she had never seen him do - he began to cry.
"Harry…" she breathed, her voice catching in her throat. He just stepped over the back of the couch so he was at her side before crushing her in a hug, his body shaking as he tried to stop his tears. She held him tightly, knowing that all he needed from her was her touch. After a few moments, he pulled away from her and sat back sheepishly on the couch, wiping his hand over his face to try and remove any trace of his outburst.
"Sorry," he mumbled, not looking at her.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"No."
"You know this isn't fair, don't you," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What do you mean?" he questioned, looking at her with glassy eyes.
"Harry, just now, the way you called out my name," she tried to explain as gently as she could, "I was terrified because you sounded so scared. And I have no idea why - that…that isn't very fair."
Harry sighed deeply as he looked down at his lap, thinking hard. Hermione reached out and took his shaking hands in hers as she waited, the midday sun streaming onto them.
"I can never remember what I dream about," he said after a while, "all I know is that they're bad, that I see terrible things and that I wake up scared shitless."
"But you don't know why?"
"No, not really," he continued, "all I'm left with is the feeling."
"What happened just now?"
"I had a nightmare, a really bad one…"
"You forgot to take your potions…"
"Yeah. Anyway, I woke needing to see you. I…the dream, it must've been about you I think because I was…I needed to make sure you were alright. When you weren't there, beside me - I panicked. Then I remembered ignoring you when you came in last ni…this morning and I thought…I thought you had left me."
"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed before taking his face in her hands, making him look at her, "I'm not going to leave you, you plonker, and I'm especially not going to leave you over a stupid argument. I love you, remember?"
"But…"
"There's no 'buts'," she interrupted, "you're not going to get rid of me that easily. In fact, if you ever want to get rid of me, the only way would be to tell me face to face. Otherwise, I'm not going anywhere."
"I don't want you to go anywhere," he whispered, finally smiling before drawing her into another hug, "I love you so much Hermione. And I'm so sorry about what happened with Stella…"
"You need to see her Harry," Hermione reasoned as she pulled away so she could look at him once more, "she's trying to help you."
"Help with what?" he asked with a shrug, "nothing's changed. My magic hasn't returned, I still can't sleep without dosing up with potions first and all she'll say is they don't know why."
"But now I'm here and I don't know if you know this, I was once called the brightest witch of my age."
"I had heard that once or twice," Harry smiled.
"Well there you go," she replied, also grinning, "honestly Harry, you don't think I would just stand by and let someone else find the cure for you without putting my own few galleons in, would you?"
"No, I guess not," he admitted.
"All you need to do is let me," she added quietly but firmly - they locked eyes for a moment as he debated within himself what he wanted to do.
"Okay," he agreed finally, "okay. You and Stella can talk and see if you come up with something new. But only until you go to university, after that you focus will be your studies, not me."
"But that's only a month and a half away!" she complained.
"They're my terms Hermione," he stated, standing up as he did so, "you hungry?" he asked.
"What?" she asked, confused by the quick change of subject.
"Hungry," Harry repeated, "it's nearly one and I'm starved…"
"Oh, er, yes I am…"
"Right," he grinned, "I'm making you some lunch!"
"Harry…"
"You tidied up so I'm going to cook you some food," he interrupted, making his way to the kitchen, "you just lie back there and relax."
With that, he was gone. Hermione shook her head in wonder and did what she was told - leaning back on the couch and putting her feet up. The events of the last twenty four hours ran through her head: Harry's birthday party, the birth of baby Alba, meeting Healer Stephens, the argument (which wasn't really an argument as nothing was said, but…), the nightmare, the admission of not knowing the subjects of his dreams and then finally the permission given to her to help him get his magic back. Her brain hurt just thinking about it all.
Massaging her temples, she closed her eyes in concentration. She had already thought of a couple of theories of what was wrong with Harry after watching him and reading up on the potions he was taking. She had many questions though, questions that could only be answered by a Healer and it seemed she was finally going to get her chance.
The owl came from Healer Stephens the following day and Harry asked Hermione if she would come with him to St Mungo's. She said yes, he had nodded his acceptance then walked away. As she watched his retreating back she understood that he was so used to doing everything himself, coping on his own, that this first step of letting her into the private part of himself that was so carefully hidden from everyone, was extremely difficult for him. She needed to be patient.
She went to her desk in the study and glanced briefly out of the window before sitting down. Harry was standing in the middle of the back lawn, hands in pockets and shoulders hunched, looking at the sky. Hermione took in a deep breath and watched him, silently praying that in the next few months she will be able to help him become whole.
Two days later they were back at St Mungo's, making their way to Healer Stephen's office. They had come early to visit Luna and Alba, who was still there but ready to go home. Hermione felt the now familiar tug at her maternal heartstrings once more, all thoughts of babies clouding her mind until they were outside the Healer's door. Seeing Stella Stephens again brought everything back into focus.
"Harry," the Healer greeted, guiding them both into her tiny office, "Hermione, glad you could make it."
Harry just grunted his hello and sat down, Hermione smiled her welcome and sat next to him, both watching Stella with interest.
"Well," she continued with her usual enthusiasm, "since it's been three months since I saw you last Harry, I need to check you out."
"Do…do you need me to take my clothes off?" he asked tentatively, standing and blushing at the same time.
"Only if you really want to," the Healer joked, making Harry blush deeper, "I'm sorry, that was un-called for. No Harry, dressed is fine. Just stand still here for a moment."
Hermione watched as the Healer performed various diagnostic tests over Harry, recognising many from her years of being by his side during his stay at St Mungo's but also noting a few that were new.
"How much do you want Hermione to know Harry," Stella asked as she worked.
"Everything," Harry replied shortly, his face still drawn into a scowl.
"Brilliant," Stella enthused, "and do you mind if we talk about you and not with you for a while?"
"Guess not," he mumbled, resigned.
"I promise, it will be painless Mr Potter," Healer Stephens said kindly, "what does Hermione know?"
"That I can't do magic and you don't know why, that I have nightmares that I can't remember and that I take some potions," Harry listed, sounding slightly bored.
"That's it?" Stella asked, looking at Harry with a small frown before continuing her tests and glancing at Hermione, "anything to add?"
"In the three months I've been here," Hermione started, ignoring the intense stare from Harry and instead concentrated on Stella, "Harry has continued to gain weight and his energy levels have also increased. He is now exercising on a regular basis although he does tire sooner than perhaps he should…"
"Do you know the reason why?" Stella asked, making her way to her desk after indicating that Harry was now free to sit.
"Well, I noticed that some of the potions concentrated on the internal organs and their functions," Hermione recalled, "and I remember one of your major concerns while Harry was unconscious was the effects the long term comatose state was having on the liver, kidney and heart functions…"
"And?" the Healer prompted.
"And the tests you've just performed indicate that the kidney and liver functions are now working properly but there is still some weakness within the heart muscle," Hermione answered promptly.
"Correct," Stella confirmed, leaning back in her chair, "when Harry woke, we could see that the core functions found it difficult to go from such little activity to normality quickly and for the first few months, it was touch and go for a while. When we were finally able to stabilise the liver and kidney functions, the heart wall had been damaged slightly, causing a new concern. The progress in the last few months has been outstanding, but the heart damage is taking a bit longer to heal, hence the tiredness."
"But it is healing," Harry asked with concern, "it is getting better. I mean, I can do stuff now that there was no way I could do before."
"Yes Harry, its healing," Stella smiled, "in fact, physically you are nearly back to one hundred per cent health."
"Except for the whole 'can't do magic' thing, you mean," Harry nearly spat, his scowl returning.
"Well, yes," Stella agreed, "no change on that front then?"
"Nope."
"Want to elaborate?" the Healer coaxed.
"What more is there to say?" Harry responded with a sneer, "my magic has gone…"
"It's not gone Harry. It's just hidden…"
"Whatever," he snarled, "all I know is that I can't do it. I can't fly, I can't even light my way in the bloody dark! And you have no idea why."
"We're trying…"
"What's the bloody point!" he shouted, standing so suddenly his chair fell backwards, "I'm defective! I'm no longer a wizard but a Muggle! The Boy Who Saved The Wizarding World is no longer capable of saving anyone anymore! And the best Healers in this bloody place have no idea why!"
"That's not entirely true…"
"Yes it is! You had no answers for me three months ago and I bet you have no answers for me now!"
"Harry…" Hermione started, standing and going to his side as he stormed away from his overturned chair and glared out of the window, "this isn't helping…"
"Of course it isn't helping!" he shouted at her, "I knew it wouldn't but no, you wanted me to come here - and for what? To know that physically I'm fine so the only reason why I can't do magic is because I'm mental! Is that it? Is that the conclusion that you've come up with as well?"
"Mental?" she repeated, her own anger firing in her eyes, "there has been no mention at all on your mental state though the fact that you're acting like a childish prat does bring your maturity into question!"
"Childish prat?" he roared, "do you know what they've done to me? Do you know what 'tests' they've performed? Because, evidently, it's all in my mind!"
"No Harry, I don't know what tests they've done because you have never told me!" she yelled back, "and quite frankly, you're attitude since getting here has been rude and disrespectful! You treat the people that are trying to help you like they are causing you personal injury! Why can't you take your head out of your arse and actually assist Stella instead of blaming her! Sweet Merlin Harry, grow up!"
They stood glaring at each other, Hermione standing her ground stubbornly.
"You have no idea what I've been through," he said after a while, his voice back at its normal tone.
"You're right Harry, I have no idea," Hermione replied, just as quiet, "and there are parts of what you've dealt with that I will never be able to comprehend. But there are also things that I will be able to understand, if you just let me. You need to let me in Harry."
"I know," he sighed, dropping his eyes from hers, "it's just…I don't know how."
"Step by step, my love," she breathed, making him look at her once more, taking his hands in hers, "letting me come here is a step, talking with Stella is another. We can do this as slowly or as quickly as you're comfortable with, as long as you let us take you forward. You need to trust me Harry, trust us."
"I'm scared," he whispered.
"I know," she whispered back, "but I'll be here with you, all the way. You won't go through this alone, do you hear me Harry? I love you and you are no longer alone."
Harry just nodded and thought her words over while she stood and waited. Stella stayed quiet, for which Hermione was grateful, and after a few moments, he looked up at Hermione, his eyes showing a glint of determination, before taking her hand and returning to the chairs facing the waiting Healer.
"Would you tell Hermione the stuff you've done on me before?" he asked as he up righted his chair and sat down. Healer Stephens smiled.
"From very early on we ascertained that there was no physical reason for Harry inability to do magic," Stella began to explain.
"It wasn't a residual effect from whatever happened in the last duel with Voldemort?" Hermione asked, leaning forward in her chair, listening intently.
"I can't remember the duel so I don't know what spells he used," Harry said, shrugging when Hermione looked at him with concern.
"What is the last thing you remember?" she asked.
"Splitting from you and Ron in the forest," he answered.
"You lost two days?" she exclaimed, shocked.
"We found this out from the information given to us by Ron," Stella continued, "and we soon realised that the two days missing was really the key to everything."
"But in the wizarding world there are many ways to retrieve memories, even suppressed memories," Hermione thought out loud, "surely…"
"We tried them all," Harry interjected wryly, "Pensieve, veritaserum, legilimency even Muggle hypnotherapy…"
"Hypnotherapy?" Hermione repeated, looking back to Stella, "you hypnotised Harry?"
"Yes," Stella nodded, "we even tried a psychologist - nothing worked."
"How could they not work?" Hermione asked, frowning, "both legilimency and veritaserum are extremely powerful…"
"But Mr Potter here is more powerful," Stella stated as she leaned back in her chair; Hermione looked at Harry.
"It seems I'm able to block it all," he explained with a shrug; Hermione turned back to Stella.
"I don't understand," she said as she thought over all the facts, "you said Harry hasn't lost his magic, that it's hidden and what's hidden is extremely powerful."
"Right," the Healer confirmed.
"So powerful that a skilled legilimens and a truth serum can't penetrate his magic to find a missing two days that is the key to allowing him to regain use of said hidden magic?"
"Yes."
"Even use of Muggle forms of analysis, which is usually extremely skilled in probing the mind, was useless?"
"Correct."
"There must be something else we could do," Hermione insisted, "I mean, the magic is there - we just need to get access to it, right?"
"But we can't," Harry reminded her, "they've tried everything and nothing works."
"Actually, I have a theory," Healer Stephens stated, getting both Harry and Hermione's attention - she leaned forward, looking at them intently, "the brain is an amazing organ. It has safety mechanisms within itself that goes into place instinctively to ensure its survival. Harry had to face a monster, to commit an act that was against everything he truly believed in - killing another human being. It didn't matter that by that stage, You-Know-Who was really no longer human and that he had killed so many already and would still go on killing unless he was destroyed.
"No one knows what went on during that last battle. Well, that's not exactly true - Harry knows. But his brain needed to shut that information out for some reason, to ensure Harry survived. So it built a wall."
"A wall?" Harry repeated, confused.
"The magical energy that surrounds you Harry is immense," Stella continued to explain, "when Auror Shacklebolt performed legilimens on you, he was thrown to the other side of the room with the force of the barrier that has been built around these memories. Your brain spent five years building this protective barrier around itself that is nearly impenetrable - but it has its weaknesses."
"Harry's dreams," Hermione said thoughtfully.
"Yes, Harry's dreams," Stella agreed, "the dreams are a window into the memories we need…"
"But I can't remember them," Harry frowned.
"No, and we tried to find out what was going through your mind when you were having them but we were shut out."
"So, what's your theory?" Hermione prompted, "it sounds like you've done everything already."
"Not everything," Stella replied, cryptically.
"What else is there?" Harry asked.
"When you woke, your condition was critical and we spent those first couple of months fighting for your life," Stella said, matter of factly as she looked at Harry, "then you left St Mungo's to live at the Burrow, where you didn't worsen - but you didn't get better either.
"Each time I saw you, your body told me it was doing just enough to survive. Then you thought you saw Hermione. You came in for your check-up and I was amazed by the change in you. Everything had improved ten fold and more importantly - there was life in you.
"And now, you are a different human being than the one I saw in May. Not only has there been significant physical changes, there is a fantastic improvement in you whole wellbeing."
"It's because I'm happy," Harry explained, looking at Hermione, "for the first time ever, really."
"I can see that," Stella smiled, drawing the couple's attention back to her, "and I think that is wonderful. Which brings me to my theory."
"What's that Stella?" Hermione asked, clasping Harry's hand.
"That you are the key Hermione," Stella said at last, "you are the key to bring back Harry's magic."
"Me?" Hermione exclaimed, "how? Why?"
"Because the wall was built to hide something horrific, something fuelled by hate. What you have with Harry is the total opposite of that, what you have is love - pure, complete love."
"No."
Both women turned to Harry, whose eyes were lit with fire.
"What do you mean, no?" Hermione asked, ready for the fight that she knew was coming her way.
"Exactly what I said," Harry shot back, "if what is hidden behind this wall of mine is so horrific that it is taking all of my magic to keep it there, there is no bloody way that I'm going to let you experience it."
"But Harry, it's the only way…"
"Then it's not going to happen."
"Can't we at least talk about it? Discuss the options?" she ventured, pulling her chair around so they were face to face, "you can't keep living like this Harry, and you know it!"
"I know that this choice is mine. I'm not going to use you to regain my magic."
"Suppressing all this power is going to eat you up Harry," Hermione tried to reason, "and I know that whatever you're holding back, we can handle it together. You and me."
"No."
"Let me do this for you," she pleaded, "let me stand with you during the final battle like I promised I would. I need to do this Harry, I want to do this. Please."
They looked at each other and she could see his resolve weakening, the debate taking place behind his eyes. She knew his concern was for her state of mind, but she was frantically thinking that could he be damaged by the memories he was trying so hard, and succeeding, to repress? She needed to know more facts. She needed to sit down and go through all the options and possible outcomes. But firstly, she needed him to say yes.
"We will explore all scenarios before we even think about doing this," he said after a while.
"Yes," Hermione responded, trying hard not to smile.
"Ron will be involved - he's part of this too."
"Right, the three of us - like it should be."
"I don't want you or him being in any type of danger."
"The same goes with you too, you need to be kept safe."
"Okay," he finally agreed but no smile crossed his face and with a curse nod in Stella's direction, he stood and left the office.