Strength of the World

A/N: Hey, yeah, reposted this story. While it may look like the same at the start, it isn't. Trust me and keep reading. I'm sorry for starting over, but have you ever started something and gotten to a point where you just had to start over? That was the case here as it helped me define a character that I wanted you to understand, a character that you will meet in this chapter and continue on for several more. Thank you and good night and good luck.

Chapter One: The Pale Rider

Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb. - Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)

He stood looking down at the town before him. The years of war had not been kind to the once glorious countryside, filled with rolling green hills and stony fences. He started his horse on a trot toward the town, knowing full well what lay beyond that town. His black coat hung behind him, hanging as a duster against his legs. His hat pulled low over his brow, hiding the pained look he had painted upon his eyes. A year could be a long time, longer alone, longer without comfort, longer without hope. It troubled him how many had passed.

IOI

He sat reading deeply into the books left to him from the passing of his late mentor. The books were about all he had left, and they were leading him to the same sad conclusion. He stood and turned to get another book when he saw his best friend standing at the doorway.

“Hello Hermione,” he said in a calm voice, betraying the fear he felt. He knew that she knew. He knew she'd try to stop him. He knew she'd probably succeed.

“Harry, why are you doing this?” She asked, tears upon the edge of the brown eyes of hers. He looked at her for a moment, going through with what his speech he had written and rewritten over a hundred, at least in his mind he had.

“You remember how I used to blame myself for the death of my parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore,” Harry stated, turning his back on her for a moment, collecting his thoughts almost. “How I felt like it was all my fault, that if I wasn't born none of this would have ever happened?” he turned to look at her for a moment, as she nodded. “You're right, you've always been right Hermione.” He said, sitting back down with a defeatist's sigh. “I didn't kill them.”

“I'm glad you finally see that Harry,” Hermione said, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“The thing that kill them has been right in front of my eyes the whole time, the reason for all of this Hermione, its been here,” he said, standing up for a moment before withdrawing his wand. “Right here!” He slammed it against the table, causing her to jump. She looked shocked at his response, confused to say the least, worried about him as well. “Magic Hermione.'

“Magic?”

“Yes, magic,” he said. “Albus had it all here, all in black and white, for us to read.” He paused for a moment. “You know better than anyone I know how regular humans are perhaps the greatest achievement in mankind. How their survival is not based upon their skill with a wand, but by their own courage. By their own advances and minds where they able to create things that we wizards and witches take for granted with magic.

“The magical world is being destroyed because they are too ignorant to look at the facts in front of them. There are not enough people, good people to stand up to any would be tyrant,” he said with venom in his voice.

“Harry, what about the Order?” She said, trying to reason with him.

“What about them? What have they done since Albus's death?” he asked, looking at a portrait of his mentor. “Nothing Hermione, nothing.” He leaned onto the desk; his shoulders slumped over in defeat. “Nothing good for me has ever come from magic. I should've just stayed with the Dursleys'.” He felt himself being turned around violently and slapped. Stunned, he looked at Hermione, anger reddening in her eyes.

“Now you listen to me, if it weren't for you, a little first year would've have died when she was overwhelmed by the magical world around her,” she said with tears in her eyes.

“But does it matter now Hermione, what good have I done?” He asked her, knowing full well her implications. “I nearly got you killed two years ago, and we are barely friends because of it.”

“What?” Hermione said, taking a step back in shock.

“Don't pretend with me Hermione, you were distant with me all last year, why will next year be any different?” he said. He let the words sink in before he spoke again. There were emotions there he did not want to dredge up. “I'm going away for a while, I need to take care of some things.”

“You'll be back, right Harry?” Hermione said. He looked in her eyes for the unspoken questions.

“I'll be fine Hermione,” he said to her, walking over to her. He wanted to say more than that, but the words did not come to him nor did he think they ever would.

“You'll be back, right Harry?” she repeated.

“Hermione, I don't know how long I'll be,” he started, with a sigh, “but for you, I'll come back.”

“When are you leaving?” she asked him. He had started to walk out of the room, but turned back to look at her for a moment.

“After the wedding; I'll save a dance for you,” he said with a smile, causing her to blush slightly as he left.

IOI

The wedding was nothing like Harry had seen before; Fleur's father had made sure of that. Their daughter must have been important to them because the Burrow was amazing. The magical attributes alone were stupendous. Which seemed in his mind only to cement his leaving. He had done his research, the wedding was over. Now came the inevitable.

The music had begun it was time to dance. He couldn't dance, and have never honestly learned how to dance. He could not see the point it, and now it seemed kind of foolish not to know.

“Come on Harry, dance with me,” Ginny said, pulling him along. He sighed as he saw Hermione dancing with Charlie. Ron was off somewhere, and for some reason it irked him slightly that she was happy with someone other than either of them. But his heart fought back, with his line that had started all of this in the first place.

“Sure Ginny,” he said, letting her pull him onto the floor. Ginny had been decked out in a light gold dress, which had been bought specifically for this day. She looked attractive in it, and he was damn sure that at least part of him recognized that, however, the feeling was gone. Through his searching for his hope, he had lost whatever feelings were there for her, if any.

“Harry, I'm going with you,” Ginny said. Her tone sounded final, and Harry nearly stopped dancing with her. But appearances were kept as he just nodded as if he was actually listening to her. “Great, we'll leave after this dance and-”

“No,” he said in such a tone that stopped her suddenly.

“W-w-what?” she stammered.

“You're not coming with me,” he said to her.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he said with a sigh, picking up her hand as a waltz began, dancing with her once more. “Because there are things that I must do, that you can't.”

“Like what?” she said, indigently.

“Give up magic,” he said to her. This time she did stop and when he tired to start up again, she pulled away from him. She stared at him, in a combination of anger and shock. “Follow me.” He walked off the dance floor and around back of the Burrow, away from everyone else. He did not wait for her reply, she would follow, and rumors would spread, but by the end of the night, they would be just that rumors. Dead rumors if things went as planned.

Her face was bright with anger as she glared at him. When he spun around to face her, his finger there, between her eyes, his look deadly. “I am not telling you a damn thing.” Each word articulated, though the tone carried the meaning well enough. “You think a few snogs, a few nights by the fireplace is going to bring you closer to my heart, when you have no bloody clue as to what I'm going through?”

“I love you Harry,” she said, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. Anger was gone from her eyes, embarrassment replacing it.

“No,” he said, taking a step back from her, his anger gone as well. “You were in love with that thought of me. You don't know me, and what makes you think that will cause me to tell you my plans, my thoughts?”

“I thought you loved me too,” she said in a softer voice, frightened almost of him. She would not be the last, nor was she the first to feel such emotions toward him.

“I don't make promises that I can't keep, and that is about the largest one that I can think of,” he said. He sat down upon a log with a defeatist sigh. “You're a great girl, Ginny, and will make some guy happy someday.” Ginny sat down next to him, but distant enough for him to notice her fear. “I'm not that guy, Ginny, and I'll never be. You were a great……distraction last year,” he said, searching for the right word.

“A distraction?” she replied. Her eyes bugged out incredulously. “That's all I was to you?”

“Yes,” he said, “the best damn distraction I've ever had.” He said, causing her to look at him oddly. “I've lived most of my life in the future, planning for one thing or another. With you, it all was about the now. And last year, I think I needed that more than anything else. But I can't do that anymore.”

He looked up at the pale moon above him for a moment, wondering if things were really as good with Ginny as he just described. Distracted was the right term for how he felt last year, how he was prepared. Like he could barely handle the spells and Snape, a man he thought he could possible best two years previous. In that moment, he came to his second conclusion of the evening, to tell her that he knew.

“I want you to stop,” he said to her in a small voice, causing her to look up from the determined yet teary eyes she had.

“Stop what, Harry?” she asked, afraid once more.

“You've been giving me something,” he said, running his hand through his hair. He stood and stared at the moon once more, but kept talking. He could not bear to watch her at this moment, and he did not think he should have to either. “I want you to stop giving me whatever it is.”

“How…..how did you know?” she asked. He looked back at her for a moment before turning away. Her face was filled with tears, her makeup ruined. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Does it matter?” he said. He reached out toward flower that had been charmed to open when the moon hit it, an invention from the twins. It floated softly into his hands. “Whatever it was, my magic has been fighting it Ginny, and it's winning.” He turned back to her and took her hands in his own. “I want at least one war to end with me winning Ginny. Let me go.” He left her there, his hands in his pockets as he walked away. He left her there, alone crying. They both knew the truth, no one else. The way he wanted it to be.

Stepping back into the party, he pasted a smile upon his face. However, that smile was short lived. He saw an argument he wanted to avoid brewing between his friends. Quickly pushing his way through the crowd, he caught the tail end of the fight.

“How dare you Ronald Weasley?” She cried out, Harry looked toward Ron, who had a lipstick lip upon his shirt collar. “I thought we were going out,” Hermione said. Harry took a step toward her, making his choice in the argument. This was one of the few he would side with her, and not let his other friend get away with it.

“I'd hardly call a few stolen snogs a relationship,” Ron said, “Besides, she was practically begging me to-”

“Ron, cut the crap, or I'll make you,” Harry said in a voice that caused everyone around them to freeze. Hermione looked at him in shock, and Ron just glared at him.

“Butt out Potter, this has nothing to do with you,” Ron said.

“I'm afraid that if you're going to insult her, I'm going to have to butt in,” Harry said in a calm voice. “You both may be my friends, but this is the last time I let you insult her like you have so many times before.”

“Harry you don't have to,” Hermione said, a thankful on her face despite her words.

“Maybe not, but it's the least that I can do,” Harry said. “Friends don't cheat on their girlfriends. Friends don't accuse friends of betrayal and mistrust. Friends stand by you in the neck of fire, despite all odds. Ron, learn to be my friend again.” He spoke no more words, but turned to walk away.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He yelled at Harry.

“It means I leave your ass-whooping in the more than capable hands of Hermione,” he said with a smirk. “Excuse me,” he said to Bill, who gave him a small thumb up behind his back as Harry went to get something to drink.

Hermione looked between the two men for a moment before walking over to Ron. “Its over, and there is no third chance,” she said in a stable, yet soft voice. Before Ron had a chance to respond to her, she had picked up the ends of her dress and carried it toward Harry.

“Hey,” he said as she approached. For the most part, the party continued, with some yelling occurring in Ron's direction.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. He turned around and gave her a sad smile. “For stepping in like that.”

“You can more than handle yourself,” Harry said, leaning against the table. The hours were growing short.

“I know, but, still,” she said, her voice trailing off. “You didn't have to.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Care to dance,” he said, holding out his hand. She looked at it for a moment, both of them knowing the meaning. After this, he would leave. She nodded, taking his hand. With skill she probably had never seen him possess, he lead her out onto the dance for, leading her in a waltz.

“Harry,” she asked, still surprised. He could see Ron glaring at them and moved so Hermione could not see him.

“Yes?” he said in response. They stared into each other's eyes, Harry showing truly the damage of starvation upon his body with his lacking height. While Hermione was not the tallest person in the world, she was about five feet five inches, with Harry barely over her.

“Where are you going?”

“I really don't know,” he said truthfully. “There is so little I must learn and so much time.” He paused as if in thought. “Strike that, reverse it.” She laughed little at the small joke from a childhood movie. “There is much that I've got to find out for myself. About my past, about my future, about my dreams and delusions.”

“Silly Harry,” she said as Harry spun her around slightly. “Delusions are just dreams you've not given any hope to.” He smiled at that.

“I'll try and remember that,” he said as the song end.

“What are you going to do?” Hermione asked.

“Train, the only thing I can do Hermione,” Harry said. “I mean, I'm not running away, but I'll need to learn a thing or two before we take off for the Horocruxes.”

“You'll come back?” Hermione said, the first smile that graced her face since dancing with him. He nodded.

“I promised you I would, but right now, I need to find the me I lost over the years.”

“Do you really have to go Harry, I mean can't I…that is we go with you?” She asked. Her eyes were pleading with him, but he turned away from he could give in.

“I'm sorry Hermione, but I need to go,” he said softly. He walked off the dance floor as another song started, his hands in his pocket. He knew she was following him, but instead of looking at the moon this time, he found Canis Major.

“Why can't I come with you?” Hermione asked him, tears in her eyes.

“Because I can't ask you to give up what you love,” he said with stone eyes and a broken heart. He was giving up enough for both of them. Hermione paused, whether in shock and pain or thought he did not know. He chose this moment though, to leave. Pulling her close into a hug, he spoke. “Goodbye Hermione, I promise I'll return, we'll take care of the Horocruxes together. I'll be back to keep you safe, and to see you again live to the end of the war, I'll return.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Take care, and never give up, never surrender.” He whispered to her softly and felt her tighten her grip around his waist.

He slipped away, slipped into the night, and in the end, the only thing Hermione held was a locket he found, his birthday present to her as he knew he would miss it. Inside the locket, was a simple portrait of both him and her, taken when they were young, and Harry believed, still full of hope.

IOI

The pale moon shone down upon this desperado, as his lone horse carried him cross the burnt countryside. Hogwarts still stood in the distance, larger than he remembered, sturdier it appeared. Death and war could do that to anything.

“Kind of makes you wish it all would end,” the desperado's mentor said, floating along side him. He only nodded, continued onward to the town. “Best say you prepare your guns, since you still refuse to use magic.”

“I'll use it only when I absolutely need to,” he spoke finally, looking through his mentor and to the track of railroad that would lead the train into the town. Or it once had, Hogwarts was closed, used as a headquarters for the remaining member's of the shattered Order. The desperado shifted his shoulders slightly, the night showing the glimmering of something beneath his torn shirt. “For now, I'm ready.”

“But are they ready for you?” His mentor spoke with a twinkle in his eyes. Returning the twinkle with one of his own, he continued forward, not quite sure that he might survive the night, a feeling he had known for the few years or so. Not including time with the time turner.

The desperado trotted toward the town of Hogsmeade. Cobbled stone still lined the street, but boarded windows covered any happiness left in the town. He shifted the bag upon his back as he slid off his pale horse, gathering the reins as he did. He would lead her down the rest of the way, knowing not what was to come for him, or what dangers await him.

“I am surprised so much has survived,” his mentor said.

“I came back here once,” the desperado said, “before I found you. I needed to finish something, and I still haven't.”

“Well, it is best to start at the beginning,” the mentor said, looking toward the burnt remains of the Three Broomsticks.

“And where else did this all begin but here at Hogwarts,” he replied.

“I suggest you stop there,” a dark voice said. The desperado halted, stopping the horse. His mentor remained floating, looking at them in amusement.

“Looks like you're going to have to get yourself out of this one,” he said.

“Sometimes I wish that you where here,” the desperado mumbled back.

“You say something boy?” another man said, Greencoat he'd be called, as wand was leveled at his hand.

“No sir, just admiring the smell,” the desperado said with a grin.

“Smell?” the first man said, Fatass.

“Yes sir, the smell,” the desperado said as he spotted another three men approaching him. They were defending their town, but that did not mean they had to go against him.

“Do you really have to agitate them?” his mentor spoke. He shook his head at the younger man, though he did not appear it. He peered over his rimmed glasses at the desperado. “They don't know who they're against.” The desperado just grinned.

“I've never smelt something as repugnant as this, and I fear that the damage your smell has dealt my nostrils is for life,” the desperado finished. The mentor shook his head for a moment as the defenders looked between each other. “Look I'm just passing through and heading to the castle.” He pointed toward the castle in the distance.

“All the more reason for us to kill you now.” A leader appeared, one that was all to familiar to the desperado, from a past life to say the least. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Neville Longbottom.” With a flourish of his wand, more defenders appeared. “And this is as far as you shall get to Hogwarts, I'm afraid.”

“Why is that?” the desperado said.

“We've you out numbered, and you wear no magical cloaks or magical items,” Neville said, leaning upon a quarter staff.

“Are you the leader?” the desperado simply asked, looking at the floating form of his mentor for a moment before staring at Neville.

“Does it really matter?” there was a confidence in the man before the desperado that he had never seen before. War changed people. They were about to find out how much it changed him.

“Why yes, I believe it does,” the desperado said. There was a moment of silence as the men surrounded the desperado. As two lunged from opposing sides, the desperado used his cloak to catch one and throw him into another, effectively knocking them both down at the same time. Without his cloak, the hoslter with the gun that hung on his right hip, and the blade slung across his back was easily visible.

In two swift movements, three things happened. Two mistakes, two lives changed. One of the defenders raised his wand toward the desperado; another did as well. With one hand handling the blade, the other on his revolver, the desperado fired off two rounds. One hand was lost, another's wand destroyed.

The magical backfire from the wand explosion was expansive, starting aflame the buildings, as well as the man who held the wand. The blade was pointed straight toward the burning man, and a gun handle could be seen in place of the hilt. With two move smooth movements the gunblade and the revolver were back in their respective holsters.

“I asked you are you the leader?” the desperado spoke once more, no one moving. The screams of the burning man carried through the air. His mentor floated toward the burning man and looked toward the desperado, who only nodded.

His mentor withdrew a wand, and waved it once, the bluish energy that surrounded him spread toward the man afire. While the desperado's eyes were locked with Neville's, everyone else's was upon the healing man. Gone were the flames and fire, replaced with healing skin.

“Really, do you have to cause so much damage?” his mentor asked without much reprimand. They both knew the answer to such a question.

“Your men will live, while you tried to kill me,” the desperado said, flicking his wrist toward his jacket. His jacket flew off of the men, and back around his shoulders. As he turned his back to them, the flickering of a tattoo could be seen, though what it was did not shine through. While he abhorred magic in almost its entirety, he found that its theatrical effects were more than worth bearing that particular demon.

“That's it, you're just going to continue on?” Neville asked, still in shock.

“You've lost the fight, there was no chance of winning,” he said, swinging his way back up onto his horse. “I may be Death, but it is not your time.” The desperado's stare was fixated upon Neville, who nodded.

“Let me come with you for now, Mister?” Neville said as a man brought a horse to him.

“Death, just Death will do for now,” he said with a smirk. He waved his hand, removing the cloaking spell around his mentor. “And that is my Mentor.” The look of surprise and shock on Neville's face was only comparable to the shock upon everyone else's.

“Professor Dumbledore?” Neville managed to stammer out.

“Hello Mister Longbottom, it has been quite some time,” Dumbledore said. “My student tends to be a bit more effective at times than I ever planned.” He looked at Hogwarts for a moment before resuming his spot next to Death. “I do believe it is best that we get going. The tale we must weave is rather long, and I'd rather rest before the night is through.”

“What? Rest? But aren't you….” Neville's voice trailed off as Death glared at him, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Dead is a relative term, Neville, and I suggest that you watch you tongue,” he said with slight venom before relaxing under his mentor's hand.

“All in due time, all in due time,” Dumbledore said. The bluish glow around him never faltered, adding an ever-eerier sense of mystery to the man called Death. It made him paler than he truly was and his eyes dark holes in his head. The desperado knew who he reminded them off, however, it did not matter. He was not that little boy they had all forgotten about.

“Much has happened since you umm….” Neville said looking toward death in slight fear.

“And the best place to begin is at the beginning I believe,” Dumbledore said. “However, what you know, I already do. That and more.” He looked toward the castle once more. “The night falls quicker these days.”

“With less light in this world, it is a wonder that there is still day,” Death replied. Emerald eyes met blue for a moment, before a twinkle returned to each of them. “I do believe that it is our turn to tell a story or two. News of the outside world perhaps.”

“What news, the world is in chaos,” Neville said with bitterness in his voice. “Ever since Potter left.”
“Really, I've heard much about this Potter on my travels, and Dumbledore spoke so highly of him,” Death said the glint still in his eyes. “Please tell me your impression of him.”

“I thought he was hero, a great person,” Neville spoke with such sadness in his voice. “Though, he showed his true colors the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, running like he did. Potter, the coward.” The name was spat to the ground. “Things went down hill from there, Hogwarts did not reopen to the public, and the Ministry tried to sack just about everyone who worked there. It was only by happenstance that a man by the name of Evans I think, John Evans or something like that came along and bought the land in your name Professor. It was quite odd, for we haven't heard of him since.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said, looking toward Death for a moment.

“Evans, I name I too am familiar with, however, in my case, I believe I ended up killing the man, as was the final part of our deal,” he said with an air of nonchalance.

“You killed him!” Neville said, nearly jumping out of the saddle. ”He was one of the last hopes of the Light side.”

“I killed him par his wishes,” Death said, and chose not to speak again. His eerie glare that came from the glow only offset the darkness of his words even more. “We will speak no more of that man.” The glare could have pierced steel. “For now.”

“Please excuse my pupil,” Dumbledore said, with a knowing smirk. “I'm afraid that subterfuge has too often been his forced pointed.” Neville looked confused at the statement as did the other riders, but Death just chuckled.

“It means ask me no questions, I tell you no lies,” Death said. “Avoiding the point as usually, no wonder I'm so good at it now.”

Death let the two talk as he watched the scenario of the old hills unfold before him. It truly was not as dark as it first appeared, with the green Scotish hills still rolling cross the landscape. However, the lake was shallower, and the trees that surrounded it appeared burnt and scarred at points. The battle that began the war was immense, and the memory was burned into his mind, much like the scars upon this land. Time heals all wounds, yet only if they had closed, no longer bleeding.

He heard about the developments that were being accomplished. An army had settled into the castle, protecting the people as best as they could. The Order was fragmented and left without direction. Part of his understood the need for protection, but the use of a hired army made him sick. They did not care for the innocence, which he sought to return, least anyone find him out first.

The castle held strong, with magic simply bounding off the sides of the walls, as if there was too much for one fortress to contain. He sighed, and immediately spotted several entry paths without the use of magic to use.

“I could get into this castle in less than five minutes,” he said aloud, pulling Neville and Dumbledore out of their conversation. “Potentially taking down defenders in a total of ten.”

“This is the most secure position in Great Britain,” Neville said with anger and surprise. “Who are you to say that you could get in so easily?”

“When have you known these walls to stop Death?” he asked, knowing the answer already. “Voldemort has grown to fear Death.”

“Relax, Fawkes,” Dumbledore said in a hushed tone. No one else heard it, and he smirked lightly. He nodded, and settled back into his saddle. Not before removing a hat from his saddle bags, a fedora, and placed it on his head, hiding the majority of his face.

The rest of the ride was quiet to say the least. Death appeared to be asleep, but if one noticed, his left hand was upon the revolver, resting there as if waiting someone to approach. Dumbledore floated along side him, watching the young man carefully, knowing the demons that tormented him all to well. The scared look of young Neville returned on his older incarnate. Almost bringing a grin to Harry's face.

“This way,” Neville finally said. He guided them through the broken gates, holding on only by ancient magic. Death smirked at this for a moment, wondering if he should fix it. Deciding against it, he'd leave that for later, when they all wanted proof.

“Who is in charge?” Dumbledore asked the question Death had left alone. It did not matter to him, but it was nice to know the chain of command.

“Professor McGonagall,” Neville said. “The Order is in ruins sir, its good to have you back.”

“Oh, I'm not here for the Order, they're going to be in more than capable hands soon,” Dumbledore said with a knowing look. Death almost laughed at the twinkle in his eyes, as Death's eyes began to share the same twinkle.

“Why are you here?” Neville asked, though there never was an answer. Two more people came running up to them as they passed Hagrid's old hut.

“Neville why aren't you guarding the town,” a woman with blond hair in a braid said as she came up. Death did a once over of her, noticing her attractive qualities, but the tired look in her eyes told of lost love.

“Because,” Death said, hopping down from his horse. “I wanted to get something to eat.”

“Who are you?” the redhead asked.

“Does it matter who I am?” he said, taking his horse by the reins. “I already know who you two are.” He turned and whispered a directive into his horse's ear before it neighed and took off in one direction.

“How?” The redhead asked again.
“Well Ginny, let's say that Potter gave me a lot of answers before his disappeared,” the tone of voice was evil, or almost. No one caught the joke in Dumbledore's eyes though.

“You killed him?” Ginny said, being held by Neville back now.

“Oh no, he's just gone for now,” Death said with a smirk. “He knows his worth, and his worth to those that knew him.”

“So the coward left and found you?” Ginny said, the tears gone replaced by venom.

“I wouldn't call him a coward,” Death said, scratching his chin. “Brave to a foolish point, chivalrous as well, but never a coward. Spoke his love's name on his lips as he disappeared. Still on them too I think.” He laughed at his joke, only to be stopped by the blond.

“I know who you are,” she said in a small voice. “You don't fool me.”

“Good, Luna,” he responded, his voice lower, softer. “Then don't try to stop me.” Louder he spoke though as he held out his arm for her to take. “Please, I think I might enjoy some more elegant company while I tour this place. Its good to know the places you plan to conquer.” He said this in such a way it made her laugh, knowing the lies behind the man. At least one more person knew now.

“You're causing quite a stir,” she said, through her small laughter as she took his offered arm.

“Well my dear, this is nothing compared to the storm brewing,” he said, looking back at Dumbledore who was chuckling.

“Marvelous boy isn't he?” He asked as he followed Death down the path with Luna.

“He's a bastard,” Ginny said. “How does he know us?” She looked at Neville for a moment, still in shock. “Dumbledore, he's….”

“Back?” Neville offered as they watched the floating form disappear along with the man in black with Luna. Ginny nodded.

“I don't know, but he knows more than he should,” Neville said.

“Are you going to call him?” Ginny asked, surprise in her voice. He looked at her for a moment before Neville nodded. “Good, the bastard embarrassed me enough already.”

“Ginny, grow up,” Neville said, shaking his head as he followed the unlikely trio, that for some reason had some similarity to a trio he saw only a year ago disintegrate in front of his eyes. Death knew that eyes were upon him as he turned and stared at them. Neville moved back toward the town and guard, but Ginny remained. He almost grinned at the fear on her face.

I0I

The walk to the school was silent, if not unnerving. Death remained alert, ready for any and all possible assaults upon him. He did not plan on showing himself yet, that fun would come later. Now…..now was time for him to adjust back to this world that he had left. Fear nearly overcame him as he realized that so much had changed, including his friends.

While the lovely Miss Luna Lovegood was holding his right arm, his left hand was rested upon his revolver. Messy, very messy at times, but he had found that the dangers it solved was worth the mess. He did not like using it, nor did he think he ever would, yet dangerous times called for dangerous methods. He barely registered that Luna was talking to him about some of the dangers that Hogwarts now held. He knew about them all, from his primary sweep of the place less than a month before. He nearly smiled at her attachment to him as he put his arm around her.

“Hold on,” he said in a gentle voice. She nodded, watching his face as he lifted her up and began to slowly walk on the air. They were passing over the minefield, and while he had no doubt that Luna knew where she was going through it, he did not want to take the chance. “There we go.”

“She knew the way,” Dumbledore said, floating behind them as Death set them back down on the ground.

“I did, but that was much more fun,” she said with a smile as they continued to walk toward the school. She began to talk again as Death rolled his eyes. When he moved his hand from around her, she stopped him. “Please, its nice to know someone cares enough to hold me.” Her smile was sad, but he moved his arm to around her shoulder, keeping her close as she leaned into his embrace. “Its good to know.”

“Then know, I will be here to protect you,” he said in a whisper to her. “It is not your time for years to come.”

“I do not believe that the name Death does you justice,” Luna whispered back. She gave him a sad smile before continuing their walk toward castle.

Death remained silent as they walked, pondering over her words. Had Luna been shunned too by the group of people she helped? He felt an anger growing in him at the thought. She would no longer want of a family. He knew how hard loneliness could hit someone, and the joys of family life that came along side love.

“You're a sweet man,” she said as they paused in front of the entrance. “Were this another time, another place, I might find myself falling in love with you.”

“I share the same regards, Luna,” Death said. “I had a family once, a long time ago. I lost them to this war, and I'd be damn if I lose anyone else. Ah looks like the rest have decided to join us.”

A crowd of wizards and witch came rushing out of the castle, wands raised and pointed at Death. Luna laced her arm around his back and looked up at him as she touched his gunblade. He gave her a sad smile as his left hand rested upon his revolver. He waited for them to speak, for he wished to hear how time had changed them all.

“Step away from her,” a redhead said. He was the tallest of the bunch, but the one with the most pride. The close friend of the man who had left them.

“Really, I didn't know that I was causing a problem,” Death said.

“Who are you?” A voice said stepping past the wall of redheads. Death raised his head slightly, as if to get a better look of them, when he needed not to see them at all.

“Why Mr. Lupin, I am surprised,” Death said. “You hired me did you not?”

“I was told you'd identify yourself in the approved method,” Lupin said. He lowered his wand as a witch with bright pink hair stepped beside him.

“Remus, are you sure this is safe?” the woman asked.

“Of course not,” Death answered.. “Why else would the rest of you be here? Now, you were saying.” He removed his right arm around Luna's shoulders, and rolled up the sleeve. The arm was clean besides a single scar that ran the distance from his wrist to his elbow. The scar was faint, as if done years ago.

The moment with his arm away from here, the wall of redhead took to strike. Luna was pulled from his side with a quick summoning spell as four stunners were shot at him. Three came from the wall, one from behind him. He took a single step to his left, allowing the spells to catch each other, instead of him. Standing there for a moment, he broke off into a sprint, removing his gunblade as he did. With revolver in his left and gunblade in his right, he charged, knowing full well the outcome of this small fight.

“Enough!” Dumbledore's voice echoed through the entrance. Death held his gunblade against the neck of the head of the Weasley family, while his revolve was pointed toward Lupin.

“You ask for my assistance, and I came,” he said. He voice was barely over a whisper but harsher. “You ask that I prove myself to you, and I did. I have never worked for that scum in the past and I never will.”

“Lower your weapon,” Dumbledore said.

“Not until they lower theirs, I am the one in unknown territory.”

“Lower them,” came a voice. The same voice had haunted him over the past decades. “NOW!” A brunette walked forward as the wall of redheads lowered their weapons. “Do you think I was excluding you?”

“Not at all miss, just waiting for an invite, that's all,” Death said with a smile. He sheathed his gunblade, and then his revolver in the hoslter. “You'll have to excuse my rudeness, I was never allowed to introduce myself. You all may call me Death. I bend to both Time and Fate, though I shall outlast them.” He gave her a grin to which she only back away. She glared at Lupin who shrugged his shoulders.

“He's the best,” Lupin said.

“That I am,” Death said with a smile. Luna had moved over to him, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I was told that there would be some food here. My horse is out and about at the moment, but should be back sometime before the end of the evening.”

“What we give you will be a generous at best, cast off at worse,” she said with a glare. “We barely have enough food for ourselves.” The others seemed to nod in agree, beyond Lupin and Luna. Death dropped his arm around Luna and turned to the woman. He tossed his hat into the air, it disappearing in a cheap parlor trick. His eyes bore into her, forcing her to take a step back.

“Take it out of my pay,” he growled. “You know, my intelligence told me that you were once a very polite young woman Miss Hermione Granger, I must say I am quite surprised by your actions. Mister Potter told me wonderful things about you,” her glare faulted at this point, shock etched across her face at the mention of that name. “I hope that you can prove him right.” Death's face grew downcast as he looked at her.

“Come, there is much to talk about,” Lupin said to him as he began to walk away from the crowd of redheads and one confused brunette.

-->

Chapter Two: Beginning to Understand

Life's a voyage that is homeward bound. Herman Melville (1819-1891)

Dinner was a solemn affair. Told they would discuss what needed to be discussed after they ate, Death sat with another group of people as they ate, every eye but two on him. Luna seemed content just knowing that he was there, so she left him alone. Lupin was off convincing his wife of some things in regards to his appearance. It was a part of the deal that they had made, that she be partly filled in once he had arrived. He was glad as he planned on speaking with them shortly after dinner or the next day, whichever came first.

He could not help but grimace as he watched the interactions around him. While Hermione and the Weasleys all acted in control outside, here they were anything but in control. In military fashion, there was a hierarchy that seemed to be forcing their own directives onto everyone else. He did not like that, he did not like it one bit.

“What is your rank soldier?” An officer said as he took a bite of bread.

“Nunya,” Death muttered before dunking the bread back into the gravy. While not up to Hogwarts' fine standards he remembered, it was better than what he had lived off. The meat had been a little rough, and undercooked, unlike anything he had tasted before.

“I believe the officer gave you an order,” another one said. Death stood and looked at them for a moment.

“And I believe that because I was neither hired by you, nor do I work for you, that I have to answer to you,” Death said.

“And yet you are eating our food,” the man said. Death looked at the man, quickly assessing strengths and faults to take advantage of. He may be strong, but balance was against him.

“I was told that it would alright,” Death said, leaning against the table. He could sense others rising and turning to face him. Well, the more the merrier.

“It would have been, had you been hired by me or answer to me,” the officer said.

“Oh, is that the problem Al?” Death asked, looking at the two of them. “I mean if that it, I can fix it easily.” Concentrating for a moment, it was another before he had retched his dinner onto the officer's uniform. “There you got it back.” In a swift movement, the wands were pointed again at him and he had taken a step closer to the officer. “Tell them to drop them, Al.” He pushed his revolver further into the man's chin.

“Do as he says,” Al said. Death gave him a grim smile before

“Good, now I'll refrain from eating your food, and you leave me the hell alone while I get my job done,” Death said. He wiped his mouth with his hand before cleaning in upon the officer's shoulder. He turned his back to them, and walked out of the hall, knowing that he could have hurt them so badly.

“Where are you going?” Remus asked as Death walked past them.

“Out, care to join me?” He said, turning around without stopping. Both Remus and his wife hurried to catch up with him. “I'm got some food in my saddle bag, while it may not be great, at least I'm allowed to eat it.” There was a combined look of outrage and shock on their faces.

“But they said they're willing to offer food to anyone,” Remus's wife said. Death scoffed at the notion. People in this day and age were rarely willing to help without something in return.

“Yeah, well, I ain't just anybody Tonks,” Death said, turning back around to them ”I'm the asshole that just retched on that damn officer's uniform before deciding that it was an awfully good idea to threaten him at gun point.”

“Really you must control you temper,” Dumbledore said, floating over to meet Death. “I've checked all of the wards, and they are holding though still preventing me from entering.”

“Understandable, we'll start work on that tomorrow,” Death said before whistling off in one direction. Both Tonks and Remus stood in one direction, in awe of the man before them.

“Professor….is it…..is it really you?” Tonks managed to get out as Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly.

“Yes, I am afraid that for a little bit longer, you must handle an old man's rambles,” he said with laughter in his voice.

“Where is that damn horse?” Death asked, whistling again. “She's normally here by now. Professor explain what you want, I'm going off to find my horse.”

“Death, I believe that it is best if you stay here for a bit more.” Death looked at the man for a moment before nodded, understanding that he was to learn something important at this point. While he had the experience, wisdom was still something he was gaining. “Now, it seems that you have allowed the army to taken up residence within the school. Care to explain why?”

“Sir, the school needed protection after the ministry fell,” Lupin said. “They are mainly farmers and other wizards who have gone through training. They are protecting the school.”

“Is that what you call it?” Death snorted. “Seriously, half of those men could be dead without me breathing hard. Where is that horse?” He turned his back on them, whistling harder.

“But H-” Tonks started

“Death, my name is Death,” he turned back and gave them a sad smile. “And it will be until we can sort a few things out.”

“I'd much rather call you Fawkes,” Dumbledore said with a smirk.

“Not until we sort this out,” Death turned and gave everyone a pointed look. “Til then I'm Death, end of story.”

“Fine, Death, why do you think that you could take them all down?” Tonks asked.

“I could have taken the rest of you out before you know what hit you earlier tonight,” Death said with a shrug. “I know how to defend myself, that's about it I guess. Few can stop me once I get going.” He paused and began looked down at his feet. “How is she?”

“Ginny? I guess she's-” Lupin started, but Tonks stopped him.

“Hermione's had it rough, Death, she's doing the best she can, but today was the first time in a long time I saw her assert herself,” Tonks said. “She's taken Harry's absence very hard, harder than I think the rest of us combined.” It was her turn to give Death a pointed look, despite his back being turned to her.

“Understandable,” Death muttered. He looked up and whistled once more. “Where the hell is my horse?”

“Horse, you looking for a horse?” They all turned to see Al the officer and some of the other soldiers. They all were chuckling at a private joke. Dumbledore faded from view, but Death knew he was still there. “We brought her inside for you.”

“She was fine outside,” Death said. There was a moment of silence as it dawned on him what had happened. He turned and glared at them. “You bastards.” He drew his revolver and marched forward, pointing it at Al. “You bastards. I should kill you right now.”

“Do that and every one of out here will die,” Al said, a smug look on his face.

“That hardly solves any problems considering I am already dead,” Dumbledore said, his blue-form visible once more.

“Albus…..” Al's voice trailed off.

“I'm used to younger men addressing me as Headmaster, Professor, or even the polite Sir,” Dumbledore said, floating over to Death's side. “Now, what seems to be the problem here?”

“Problem, well the problem was with dinner, Albus,” Death said. “The problem is what they served. The problem is I lost a very good friend tonight, Albus.”

The pale face of Dumbledore grew paler as the wind around them began to pick up. He turned toward the officers, who for the second time that evening had moved away from Death. “Explain.”

“We saw the horse running about the grounds,” Al said, shrunken away from them. “We figured it was a stray and checked to make sure it wasn't magical. It wasn't so we killed it, and used it for meat.”

“What did you do with the saddle?” Dumbledore asked, preventing Death from speaking. Both knew only trouble would come if he did. Death's ears picked up footsteps of a young woman and the scent on the air told him whom the steps belonged to. He did not acknowledge her, nor ignore, she did not exist to him at that moment. All the more reason for him to carry out his method.

“We saved it,” Al said. “Sir, we've got to eat.” There was pleading note in his voice as Al spoke, but he would have none of that. There were always more options. Death unto others without reasonable cause, in his mind, was inexcusable.

“Then start growing some damn vegetables,” Death said. “I look out here and can see this beautiful land before us, ripe for growing, and you kill a defenseless creature. Not even raised for livestock.” His voice was raising in volume with each phrase and the other began to back away. “She was all the family I had left, and you killed her.” He raised his revolver at the man. No one moved to help him. “For that I should kill you.”

“You do, and you're fired,” Hermione said, stepping forward from the hall. “We hired you to protect search for something, not kill our protectors.”

“Protectors, lass, that what you call them?” Death asked, his revolver still raised. “Well, miss, I believe that there is much for you to learn about protection, and taking advantage of.” He pointed the revolver at the ground, and a collective sigh was released. “You also must remember, I am the only one who has arrived alive to reply to that ad.” He pulled the trigger of the revolver, a single round piercing the boot of Al, the officer.

Al quickly picked up his foot and hopped around, screaming in pain. Death pushed him over and walked over to Hermione, as Dumbledore held back both Remus and Tonks. “I refused your money up front, because I knew others had take it and run. You want proof of my abilities, get me my saddle bag, then we will speak. For now, I will live out there.” Death pointed toward Hagrid's hut. He knew it had been abandoned for quite some time, as the gentle half-giant had taken to living in the castle. “I suggest if you wish to speak to me again, ask them to come with you. Else we have very little to say to each other, miss. You barely understand the war before us.” A crack of thunder could have been mistaken for the slap that Hermione used against him.

“Don't you dare presume what I understand,” Hermione said. Death could see the tears in her eyes as she looked up at him, and knew the pain she had held. He nodded.

“I apologize then,” he said. “But I still believe that there are things you do not yet realize.” He ran a hand through his black, yet short hair, turning from the confused woman.

“If there is nothing more you wish to discuss,” Dumbledore asked. Death shook his head and Dumbledore faded from view once more.

“He's off to do some more scans and sweeps,” Death said with a shrug. “I'll need that saddle bags returned to me. Have Remus here send them out to me.” He waved his hand at the soldiers who seemed to have slightly recovered. They nodded as Al limped away. They managed to heal him, yet it did not surprise him that he still had a limp. Minimal talents in the healing arts. Maybe there was permanent place for him here yet.

He walked away to the hut, looking inside. It would do for the day before he fixed it up. Looking back at the shadows cast by the moon, he shook his head in wonder. It was in the simple things, he had come to realize as he watched the trio of people watching him depart. It was in the simple things that beauty was truly found. He entered the hut, knowing that he would survive the night, and his saddlebags returned.

I0I

“Why am I not surprised you are up this early?” Dumbledore asked as Death entered his hut. He had been out foraging for food and the like early in the morning. Much of what he had found was edible, possible better than the slop they prepared in the Great Hall for the large group. He'd start with his own plot soon enough to get some things growing. Hagrid might like that. It'd be a fight to keep the land from him.

“I've found that there is little reason to sleep at the moment, Albus,” Death said as he moved the teakettle off the fire he had made and his pot in its stead. In the pot he poured some of the tea before adding some of the more edible plants and nuts he had found. Sitting back on a makeshift stool, he gave Dumbledore a small smile.

The hut around them had survived fairly well. There was minimal work that he had to do to fix it up, and found that he was planning on additions as well. The bed would need the most work, and his gunblade rested upon the table, in reacting distance in case of any thing.

“It has been a long time since I've ever heard a student call me by my given name,” Dumbledore said with a wider smile than before. “I must say, while the respect is still there, I am glad we've had gained such a level of trust.”

“So am I, professor,” Death said. “I've never really got a chance to thank you for returning like this, Albus. You don't know what it means to me, or to them.”

“I have no doubt it will mean the same when their Chosen One returns as well.” Both men share a twinkle as Death pours himself a glass of tea into an older jar he found. “What does surprise me is the comfort you can find living so simply.”

“I find that there are some things that would make life more comfortable,” Death said. “I apologize that I can not offer you tea.”

“Couldn't find another glass?” Dumbledore asked. Both men laughed at this. The laughter died out though, as the sadness of between them returned.

“I'm sorry,” Death said, looking at the dirty bottom of his glass.

“For what, allowing me to say goodbye this time?” Dumbledore asked. “It takes a strong soul to hold someone here, Death. And an even stronger one to say goodbye. I suspect that when the time comes, you shall do what is necessary.” Death nodded, though his grim features did not leave him. A scratching sound could be heard from outside the door, Death stood, his revolver in hand just in case.

Before him was a young dog. He could not call the black haired mutt a puppy, as he seemed too big. He was lifting his right front paw, as if it was he was in pain. He was wounded though, the blood dripping from his paw made that evident enough.

“Well, don't think I need this,” Death sheathed the revolver into its holster. He knelt beside the dog, petting his head gently. “I think we can fix something up for you.”

“When you lose one friend, Death, another comes,” Dumbledore said to him. The sadness of the words only made the pain even harder for him. He had not made too many friends over the years. Death nodded, lifting the dog up and out of the doorway. He placed the dog onto his bed, letting it get comfortable before removing several bandages from his jacket. Wrapping the bandage around the dog's leg, Death sat back to watch him get comfortable.

“Remind you of anyone?” Death asked, smiling lightly at the dog that now rested his head upon his front paws.

“Aye, and I agree, it would be a fine choice in name,” Dumbledore said, leaning back slightly.

“Lets not be obvious about it though, I mean they'd pick up on it too fast, where would the fun be then?” Death said as he began to pet his dog again. “I think Grim will suit you nicely.” There was short bark of approval before Grim seemed to completely relax into his sleep, stretching out onto all of the makeshift bed.

“Why do you insist upon hiding from them?” Dumbledore asked. “You are more than capable of explaining yourself to them all. Even if they truly do not deserve your explanation, from what I understand of that note.”

“I hide, because I know they will judge me, and I don't want them to do that,” Death said. Emerald eyes met blue as the two men stared at each other. The moment of silence barely lapsed. “You really don't know what it was like to feel them die, hundreds of miles away. I felt this tearing sensation burning inside of me and then nothing. I lost them, Albus, I lost them all.” Tears filled both eyes as Death placed his head in his hands, holding back his tears. It was not the first nor would it be the last time that Dumbledore wished he were corporal enough to hold the man before him, who had sacrificed everything he had created to finish the quest for a world that hated him.

Another knock on the door, and the shields returned. Death had snapped upward, grabbing his gunblade in the process. Grim only rolled over, to which Dumbledore chuckled.

“Some attack dog,” Death muttered, smiling lightly at Grim. “Who is it?” He said louder.

“Its Remus and Tonks,” a voice said. Death glared at the door.

“Prove it, or I will kill you both.” No one thought it was a joke at the frosty tone of his voice.

“You're the goddamn bastard that thought it would be funny to slip in that color changing potion with his Wolfsbane,” Tonks said. Death began to laugh, and Dumbledore smiled. It was not a full one, but it was the best he had heard since he returned. Well after the incident Death spoke of.

“Yeah, I remember, pink wasn't it?” Death said, sitting back down as Remus and Tonks entered.

“Yeah, my hair stayed that way for a week,” Remus mumbled, but there was smile on his face. They both knew it was a good prank.

“Please have a sit,” Death said. There appeared to be only one seat in the room, and Tonks the ever-forceful person she was had Remus sit first before she sat on his lap. Death had leaned up against the wall, his feet on the table with his gunblade close by. Dumbledore was floating with a content smile on his face and twinkle in his eyes. “I take it your brought my saddle bag?”

“Yes we did,” Tonks said, tossing it at him. He caught it and gave a smile to her glare. “Why must you question who we are? You know who we are.”

“There are more than one way to trick the senses,” Death said to her. “As an ex-Auror, you should know this. Give me a day or two, by then I'll know who you are in a room of crowded people, with your form different Tonks. To you it may have been only five years, but I've been gone decades, close to a century.” He gave them a sad smile, knowing they'd want an explanation. “Let me adjust back to this place.”

“Fine, but you still need to tell us everything,” Tonks said, leaning against Remus.

“Love, we didn't tell him everything,” Remus said to which Death nodded.

“As it should be,” Dumbledore commented. “Secrets remain secrets until they are needed.”

“Some hold heavier burdens than others though, Albus,” Death said. “Ah, forgive me. Where are my manners?” He stood from his seat and moved over to the pot now boiling. Adding a few more ingredients he removed the pot from the fire, and over to the table. “Care to join me for breakfast? Some tea perhaps if not anything else?”

“Sure, I missed breakfast,” Tonks said, blushing slightly. “After what you said last night, none of it sat well with me.”

“That's quick alright,” Death chuckled. “I can't promise this will taste better, but it sure will make you feel better.” He proceeded to pass out bowls and jars to be used.

I0I

Hermione began rehearsing her apology since she had exited the school. It was upon hearing a deep chuckle that she forgot everything she had thought she wanted to say. While not relaxed, the laugh seemed to revive a sense of happiness within her. How she wanted to hear it again, know that it would be okay. That the laugh made everything seem all right, even if it wasn't.

Taking another deep breath, Hermione stopped in front of the door. She had lost everything in her train of thought, from her apology to how familiar the man was, everything. “Miss Granger, if you would be so kind and come in, I'd be delighted to have you for breakfast.” Her jaw dropped as the door swung open and her ex-Headmaster held it for her.

“Forgive me if I don't get up,” Death said. She looked at him to see the head of a black dog in his lap. He was scratching the dog's head that had managed to form a content smile. “His name is Grim.”

“I didn't know you had a dog,” Hermione managed as she entered. She stood next to Remus and Tonks, noticing them, but transfixed on the man before her.

He had to be more than six feet tall, that much she had realized from the night before. His hair was black with whitening hair at his temples. What startled her the most though, were the green eyes that pierced her. She had only seen one other with eyes like that, only one other that could stop her in her tracks.

“Just got him today,” Death said. “Please have a seat.” Looking around, she found an empty one next to Remus. She sat down, still stunned by the group before her. “Would you care for some breakfast? For what I hear it's pretty good.”

“Pretty good? Try wonderful.” Tonks said, finishing off her bowl. “I don't think we've eaten that while in a year.”

“Time makes that heart grow fonder,” Death said. “Besides, good food is good for the soul.” He placed a bowl in front of her, along with a spoon. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please,” Hermione said, her hands in her lap. He placed the cup of tea in front of her as she stared at the bowl, surprised that he was hospitable to her. She stared at the bowl for a few moments before gathering her courage again. “I wanted to apologies to you, for slapping you yesterday.”

“Miss, I must say-” Death started.

“Please, I had no right to do that to you, and you were here to help us,” Hermione said. Looking at her lap she continued, her voice much softer. “We hired you, and I knew that you did things in a less than conventional way. It should have respected what you are offering, and not force my opinions onto you. I'm sorry if I did.' There was a moment of silence, after this. Hermione looked up to see everyone looking at Death, who seemed stunned by her remarks. “I'm sorry if I offended you again.” She stood to leave. She was about to move toward the door when he spoke.

“No, its me who should be apologizing,” Death said, standing up. He moved around to the door, stopping her from going anywhere. “I'm just going to tell you that I'm not accepting the apology.” She looked up at him, shocked. He led her back to her chair, leaving her staring at him. “I'm not accepting you apology because I do not feel that your actions warrant one from you.”

“Why not? I slapped you, I was rude, and I insulted you,” Hermione said. “I'm surprised you're even talking to me.”

“Hermione, I am a man of many things,” Death said with a chuckle. “Grudges are not one of them. Though you were serious, if I took everything said against me seriously, I would be insane, as well as angry all the time.” He sat back down. “I used to live in England, before I jumped the pond and headed to the States.” He had changed the subject, much to her relief. “Eat, you look like skin and bones.” He said. His smile disarmed her, and she nodded. She felt hungry, but gave most of her food to the younger children. They barely had enough, and she couldn't tolerate how they were treated. But what could she do?

“Why did you leave? England I mean,” Hermione asked. She blushed under his gaze and slowly began to eat. He must have paused as she did because she heard nothing from him as she felt her body reacting to the melody of tastes. She finished it quickly, surprised at how hungry she was.

“Hey, Mikey, I think she likes it,” Death commented, causing Dumbledore to chuckle. Both Tonks and Remus had confused looks on their faces as Hermione stopped eating, a telltale blush on her face.

“Thank you, it was very good,” she said.

“Then have some more,” Death said, switching her bowl with his. “Please eat up.” He chuckled again as she took the bowl. She felt her face heat up again as she ate a little slower. “I left England because it was would cause less problems if I did. I had messed up big time and lets just say, time marches on. Without me as the case was.”

“Your response intrigued us,” Remus said. “You told us you'd come, and identify yourself by a scar along your right arm and with a ghost from the past. Well you certainly did.”

“Honestly, I'm surprised you took my word on those two alone,” Death said as Grim placed his head back into his lap. Hermione smiled lightly at the doors content look. She felt a pain for Crookshanks, who had disappeared on her less than a year again. She watched as he rubbed his right arm, where the scar was.

“I could heal that for you,” she said.

“Thank you, but it's a reminder of my mistakes.” Death said. “I…..I threw away the best type of friendship and love in the world, because of my pride. That is the result of the despair that followed.”

“You tried to kill yourself?” Hermione asked. Death looked at her, oddly, and she thought he was about to yell at her. So many people had done that to her in the past year, a lot of the men. She reasoned that was the reason she didn't speak out as much. The fear.

“Miss Granger, if you apologize, I will not accept it,” Death said. He moved his dog's head back onto the bed. He walked over to her, placing a hand upon her shoulder. “You just happened to beat out Tonks and Remus, that's all. But yes I did.” He went back and took his chair, placing it next to her. Hermione felt her face heat up once more as he sat down. “Mister Potter would be quite disappointed in you.” He had changed the topic away from himself again, not that she minded.

“What?” Her face turned pale at the mention of Harry. She had tried her hardest to forget him, to hate him like the rest but she couldn't. Her hatred, when it came around, was deeper than the rest, but so was her loyalty.

“I had the pleasure of talk to him on my travels,” Death said.

“But why didn't you bring him with you?” Tonks asked. Hermione looked at the woman before looking at Death, thankful someone else asked the question.

Death gave them a sad smile. “There are questions that need to be answered today, I deeply apologize, but that is not one of them.”

“He has a point,” Dumbledore said with a sad smile as well. “There are some other things that we must take care of first, before anything else is attended to. I for one, what to know how far you all have proceeded.”

“With what, sir?” Remus asked.

“With the Horocruxes.” Dumbledore said plainly. “Five years is a long time to have let this go on, and I understand that you were working on some leads before Harry left.”

“Well, sir we only found out about it after Harry left, from Hermione, and Harry had said he would return to assist us,” Remus said.

“We've waited for his return,” Tonks said. Hermione nodded, and avoided Death's gaze as he looked at her.

“Understandable, you do know what he was off doing, right?” Death asked. His voice had turned very formal, and almost rehearsed as he spoke. Hermione noticed the changed, but said nothing as the other did not.

“He said he needed to believe in magic again,” Hermione said. “He was going to go off for some training as well, I think.”

“Understandable as well,” Death said. “The man just lost his mentor, and his faith in the world around him, why do you resent him for leaving.”

“Because he hasn't responded to any of the methods that I've- I mean, we've tried to contact him with,” Hermione said. She blushed slightly under the gaze of death as she drank some of the tea, which like the meal was the best she had in a long time.

“Would it be reasonable to say that Mister Potter would have responded, if he got these contacts?” Death asked.

“Yes, but five years,” Tonks asked.

“Nymphadora, please tell me that you have a reason why you remain in this world of darkness?” Death asked. She blanched at the use of her given name, yet looked ashamed, as she remained silence. “There is a book, by a man that goes by the name Tim O'Brian. One of my favorite lines from any form of literature or spoken word is this. `I was a coward. I went to war.'

“To stand up for your beliefs, whenever one else pushes against you, is one of the hardest things I have ever felt,” Death said. “I failed once, and now I carry that mark.” He rubbed his right arm unconsciously. “There is a red badge of courage, that everyone who goes through war earns.” He looked at them, and Hermione could see the depths of sadness in his green eyes. “It pains me to even say this, but you've all yet to earn yours.”

Hermione's eyes snapped back at him, as she stood up, anger welling inside of her. “How dare you tell us what we've earned and haven't? Haven't we too seen the death and destruction that war causes, that war brought to our door? We fought on these grounds to defend the children inside Hogwarts. We've fought hard and long, and you come in here on your high horse, and tell us we haven't seen war?” Death looked at her for a moment but wisely said nothing. She felt the energy exploding within her, needing to come out. Vaguely she heard a popping sound as she continued. “Where were you when Voldemort attacked the castle?” He flinched at this, finally some kind of reaction of out him. “You didn't have to bury those other students, those children. You didn't have to hold the young ones close at night.” She broke down, the memories of what she had. Death made a move to comfort her, but stopped. Part of her wanted him to hold her, the part of her that saw Harry in him. But she didn't want him to touch her.

“Maybe I was wrong,” Death said. He looked toward Dumbledore before continuing. “But I look out there, and I see people hiding. Hiding from something that they could have done something about. While other people are doing their jobs for them.” He stood up and grabbed the saddlebag. Hermione looked up to see him toss a misshapen goblet onto the table. “How many are left?”

“You destroyed one?” Remus asked, pushing Tonks off his lap. He made a move over to the table to examine it. “Have you checked it?”

“For what?” Death asked, a twinkle in his eye. Remus seemed to miss it, but Hermione caught it as Remus cast the spell. There was a moment of silence as they waited for Remus to finish. She looked at Death, who had a Cheshire cat smile

“Its gone,” He sank back on his heels, leaning against the wall. “Where did you find it?”

“Some shop in the Alley,” Death said with a wave of his hand. “It wasn't what I was looking for, but then again, I was never one to pass up opportunity.”

“You destroyed a Horocrux,” Remus said. “How long ago?”

“Less than a month, when I first found your ad,” Death said. “I found the ad in the same store, as I found that. Hurt like hell, trying to break it.” He chuckled at it.

“Why did you want to break it, if you didn't know what it was?” Tonks asked.

“Oh, there was a jewel in there.” Death said. He reached into the saddlebag, fishing for what Hermione assumed was the jewel. “Ah, here it is. I didn't know what it was used for, so I thought it would be best that I brought it with.” He placed the light blue jewel on the table. Hermione gasped at the size of it.

The jewel was nearly the size of her fist, and she could hardly imagine it upon the twisted wreck before her. Light reflected off of the sapphire before in a way to illuminate the table in a light blue. She reached out, as if it called to her, but stopped as Death held her hand.

“I wouldn't suggest touching it.” Death held her hand carefully. “There's something not right about the gem there. I don't know what it was, but I can tell you, that whatever it is, isn't right.”

“Then maybe this is the Horocrux,” Remus said. He quickly cast the spell again, as confusion marred his face. “No, its not, but it feels evil.”

“That's why I saved it,” he said. “I don't know why, but to me, it feels like it could reach out, and take every warm emotion you've ever held away from you.”

“Like a Dementor's essence crystallized,” Hermione said. “How could he have done this?”

“Riddle?” Death asked, scratching his head. Hermione shot him another look. “Hey, he explained it to me.” Death pointed at Dumbledore who smiled at them.

“I did find it was easier for him to understand what was occurring, so that we may get some work done,” Dumbledore said. “Death sought me out, and I have parted some of my knowledge up him. We both talked about it, and neither of us have any conclusive thoughts in regards to the essence.” There was a momentary silence. Hermione felt the jewel calling her again, but she did not reach again. She was preoccupied with the question of why Death was still holding her hand.

“Now, how many are left?” he asked, taking the jewel back. He placed it inside his saddlebag again before tossing next to his gunblade. Hermione let out a sigh as Death released her hand, once the jewel was away.

“There are three left. The locket from Sirius's brother, Nagini, something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's,” Remus said. “Working together we figured that Regulus stole the locket from the cavern in the first place.”

“Have you begun to look for it?” Death asked.

“No, our resources are limited in such a way that we can't let anyone leave, less they're with the army,” Tonks said. “We managed to move them in about a year ago, right after the confrontation here with Voldemort. We barely managed to hold him off.”

Death nodded, letting everything sink it. Hermione watched for a moment, wanting to ask more questions of the enigma before her. Yet she couldn't, the fear of him yelling was too much.

“Death, who are you?” Hermione asked in a small voice. In the silence of the room, though she might have as well yelled it. Instead of yelling at her, like she thought he would, he took her hand and kissed it lightly.

“I am a man, younger than my hair shows, trying to repent for his mistakes,” he said. “Don't ever be afraid of me. I will not harm you.” She nodded and relaxed. The pounding on the door, however, knocked everyone out of the quiet moment.

“Open this door right now,” the female voice said.

“Blessed, can't she learn to quit?” Death said, standing up from his seat. He threw the door open, and glared out at the people there. “WHAT?!”

The crowd of people outside flinched, and Hermione watched as the man before them seemed to grow. If not in size, but in pride and anger, like his peace had been interrupted. Grim had gotten off the bed and limped over to Death's side, growling at the people. She could only imagine what everyone was looking at.

“We wanted to know what you were doing here,” Ginny said. Hermione spotted Ron standing off to the side, shaking his head. She could not help but smile at the gesture.

Ron had grown over the five years. They had grown closer, but nowhere near as close as she and Harry were. She wouldn't let anyone that near. No, but they still were best friends. He had upgraded to the emotional capacity of the teacup, so there was hope for him. No, he was still dense at times, and wanted to still go out with her. But she couldn't. Not until some of the other things were sorted out.

“Well, if you must know I'm currently plotting to kill every single person that interrupted me, starting about a minute ago,” Death said, looking at a watch on his left arm. Hermione and Tonks could not hold back their giggles as Dumbledore and Lupin smirked. The frightened looks on their faces was priceless.

“I'm serious,” Ginny said, stomping her foot on the ground.

“Really, cause I thought your name was Ginerva,” Death said. The people inside the hut burst into laughter, including Ron and the twins. Everyone else glared at him as he stepped out of the hut, with Grim by his side. “Now, really, what can I help you with?”

“Why yer in my hut? “Hagrid asked. That was not the question most of the people had on their minds, obvious from the glares he received from Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.

“I meant to ask you about that,” Death said. He pushed his way through the throng of Weasleys to the half-giant. “Now, I'm going to be staying here for a while, is it alright if I use it until I can build a place of my own?” Hermione stood up and moved toward the doorway to watch them better. Everyone else had gotten up and left the hut, sans Dumbledore, who seemed to disappear someone where. She felt safer inside the hut, but she wasn't going to admit it to anyone.

“Yeah, sure, I live in the castle now, easier to protect the youngins,” he said.

“Well, I plan on helping with that too, but I think I might be able to rebuild the pen out here,” Death said, pointing toward the broken fence. “Gets some cows out here to get those kids some fresh milk.”

“I think that'd be a wonderful idea,” Hagrid said with a large smile.

“Why are you doing all this?” Mrs. Weasley asked. There were tears in her eyes; Hermione could tell they were from fear as well.

“Doing what?” Death turned back from the pen. “You mean taking a stand, even if it's against you folk? Forcing you to see things beyond these school walls, by coming out here to intimidate me? I won't back down. I will stand my ground. Will any of you? When was the last time any of you left those walls? I can tell you right now, the only person was Lupin, and that was two weeks ago to meet with me. Before that no one for six months.”

“How do you know that?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“Him,” Death pointed at Dumbledore. Hermione never noticed his return, but she could not help but jump slightly at the presence of the ex-Headmaster. “I've had him checking up on this place so I know what I'm getting into.”

“You've been back for six months, and you haven't told anyone,” Mrs. Weasley turned on him. She appeared to be going into rant mode, which Dumbledore seemed familiar with.

“Why I've been dead for five years, everyone knows that. I'd hardly call how I am right now back, bound maybe, but not back,” Dumbledore said to them. “Now, I do believe that there are more important things for you to be doing right now, instead of bothering Death and I. I'm going to have to ask you all to leave.”

“May I stay?” Hermione turned in surprise. Partly is was because she had wanted to voice those words, but had not the courage, but she turned mainly because she was surprised to see Luna speak those words. Death looked at her for a moment before nodding. “Thank you.” She ran up to hug him. Hermione could only watch it for a moment before turning away. She felt something break inside of her, a part that she thought she had lost to a man so many years ago.

“Thank you brother.” Luna said to him. Hermione turned back to look as she walked away as the young blonde nodded as she held onto the larger man. The little that had broken inside seemed to fix itself as she received a smile from the man called Death. Yet he did not bring any such thing to her, just hope.

-->

Chapter Three: Almost Home

“Change is the only constant, the signal of rebirth, the egg of the phoenix.” - Christina Baldwin

Death looked out across the field before him. He had just finished towing the plow behind him, drawing the lines out very carefully. He smiled to himself as he thought about how to handle the water. He could charm something, but part of him wanted to do it by hand.

“I can't believe you did it.” Death turned to look at the man staring at him. Remus knew who he was, yet kept his secret, as did Luna and Tonks. He suspected that Hermione did, but part of him just thought it was because he refused to change his eyes.

“Yeah, it took a day's work but I think it'll survive the summer,” Death said, wiping his brow. He undid the harness to the plow, setting it behind him. “You wanted to speak to me about something?”

“Are you going to tell them?” Remus asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn't planning on it, but if I feel the need arises for it, then yes, I will,” he said. He walked over to the barrel next to Remus where he had left a large jug of water. He took a long draw from it before leaning against the barrel. “Until then, just us.”

“McGonagall is bugging me about it,” Remus said with a shake of his head. “Since she couldn't meet you in person, she hasn't stopped guessing who you are.

“If she figures it out, I will neither deny or confirm it,” Death said. He looked upon the castle, finding the picturesque features missing or gone. Long ago, he had realized where Hogwarts was, now, now it was just a castle that housed the people.

“Could I tell her?” Remus asked, dragging Death out of his thoughts. “I mean, she had to know about you eventually and it would be best if we started at the top of the Order.” Death smirked at this.

“You can explain to her that if she wishes to know, she'll have to ask me personally, and only asked five questions, any of the five can not be `who are you?'” Death said. “After that, well, we'll see.” Remus nodded, leaving it at that. “I like not being famous, Remus. I like the anonymity that I've gained as me, not as the Chosen one.”

“You could have at least chosen a normal name,” Remus said.

“Oh he does,” Dumbledore said, floating up over to them. “Are you ready to discuss our plans with the rest of the Order.”

“They aren't going to like, especially since I am who I am,” Death said. “Besides, I've got planting to do.”

“Come Remus, I believe there are some faults in your wards that need to be fixed.” With that Dumbledore guided Remus away, his blue haze following him. Death smiled at this. The move was planned, and there were many more like that move waiting to be executed as Death had planned. He picked up the bag of seeds he had brought with him and managed to find in the forest.

Most of the vegetables would not be fully-grown for another month, and until then needed the utmost care and attendance to them. A relaxation technique he had been taught that benefited everyone. He slowly began to plant his tomatoes, two half rows of them. He'd figure a way to move the water after he planted them. Irrigation seemed like a sound idea.

“I can't believe you managed to get this far without magic, or an equine of some sort.” Death wiped his brow and looked over at Hermione.

“At least we'll die with the harness off our backs,” he said. At the confused look upon her face, he just smiled. “My dear, Shakespeare is one of the finest playwrights you shall ever know. I feel that Hogwarts does not teach philosophy of classic literature, rather letting students go through school without the knowledge that does shape a young mind.”

He gave her a smile, motioning her to follow him as he planted. Getting onto his knees, he knelt next to the row he had made earlier. “For the corn,” he said. “It has to be spaced just right. They like to be close, but not too close.” Hermione giggled at this, causing him to look up. “You think I'm joking?”

“There are times that I'm never sure your not joking,” she said, a hand covering her mouth.

“When was the last time you laughed?” Death asked with a smile as he went back to him. “It's been quite some time no?”

“Almost five years,” Hermione said. “I don't know how you do it, but I told myself I wouldn't until Harry returned.” Tears were in her eyes as he looked upon her.

“Miss, laughter is like a friendship, it does more harm to repress it, then to let it free,” Death said. “Do you blame Harry for not laughing or me for laughing?”

“No, I just feel better knowing that I can still,” Hermione said. She gave him a sad smile as a memory passed over her face.

“Good to hear,” Death said, planting another kernel. “Now, back to my earlier statement. Shakespeare, Dickens, Thoreau, Frost. There are hundreds of poets and writers, artists and singers that can shape a mind. I am sad to say, that in Hogwarts walls, there is little of the shaping of a mind, and more of directing it into a mold.”

“Are you any of those?” Hermione asked.

“I've tried my hand at all of them, and I've found a decent singer can be a decent songwriter when the time comes, but my styling is not appreciated by everyone.”

“You can't please everyone,” Hermione said. “Do you mind if I help?”

“Not at all, would you like to work on the corn with me, or on something else?” Death offered.

“What else do you have?” Hermione asked.

“Onions, green and yellow, I plan on planting some grapevines, maybe to take up several rows.” Death said. He had been moving faster, still placing them at the right length apart, or at least how he saw it.

“Are you watering by hand?” Hermione asked. Death looked over at her, surprised by question. “You seemed like the type who would want to.” She blushed at his gaze, turning back to the bag of seeds.

“I wanted to irrigate, but I really don't know the spells or have an idea of the best way to,” Death said, finishing the row and working on another. “I think that where it is located, magic might be the best method, but I really don't know the spells.” He gave her a sheepish smile as he worked his way through the row. It was only years of practice that allowed him to move so fast.

“You did magic when you first arrived, we saw you float over the field and you made you hat disappear,” Hermione said. She put down the seeds and walked over to kneel across from him.

“I use magic to assist me, but I like the feel of work in my two hands,” Death said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Don't get me wrong, I love magic. But I had to learn to stop hating myself and how to love the animal that I was.”

“Animal?” Hermione asked, looking up from his hands as he worked.

“Miss Granger, do you realize that you have been floating along with me as I move?” Death said. She nearly fell as she took in the ground that was an inch away from her. He steadied her with his hands, holding to the platform he had made. “Magic is not something that can be fully control, nor should it. I have found that at times, I can become part of it so to speak. I personal don't understand it, all I know is that, much like the way a spell is, I think it, and it happens.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Only to an extent. I've got to know the spell first.”

“Wandless and speechless magic?” Hermione asked, amazed at the man before her.

“Took many years and a few painful lessons,” Death said. “Back to my question, could you find me a spell or something, and use it?”

“I'll have to check the library, it might be a day or two,” Hermione said. “I will find something though, you can count on me. I won't let you down.”

“Easy there, tiger,” Death said, finishing the row. He stood and grabbed before she could run off. “What else do you do? Here I mean. What does everyone do?” He let go of her and turned away. “I've been here a week. Remus, Tonks, Luna, and you are the only ones that come out here to talk to me. What does everyone else do during the day? I know they are curious about me, but come on. Am I that scary?”

“In a word, terrifying,” Hermione said. Death stopped moving away and turned to look at her. “You have this presence about that commands respect and attention. But not only that, your way of talking to people shows you care less for them then your words do. Your methods are unorothdox, enough for any of them to be afraid of you. And you've threatened their unstable way of life.”

“That's all, they should thank me then,” Death said, waving his hand.

“You also are a pompous jackass,” Hermione said. Her hands went to her hips as she appeared to build up her fury. But as quickly as that emotion came over her, she felt ashamed at what she had done. It felt wrong to feel angry at him, or anyone, and the feeling magically disappeared. She felt tears swell up in fear as she prepared to run, hoping he wasn't going to do anything.

Death was over to her side in a moment. “I may be a jackass, Hermione, but you have every right to be angry with me.” He stared into her eyes, as if he was searching for something. “Why aren't you angry with me?” His voice was rising in volume as he spoke. “I've come in here on my high horse, telling you what to do and you apologize to me? What's wrong with you?”

“I don't know,” Hermione said. Her hands moved over her face instinctively as the tears threatened to spill. Death did the only thing he could; he pulled her into a tight embrace. She fought him, but eventually relaxed, though not entirely. Her body was still tense.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Death whispered into her ear. “I may be called Death, but it is neither your time here or for a couple hundred years.” She nodded into his embrace, and he was slightly surprised that she was just tall enough to fit under his chin perfectly. “I've done a lot of things in my life, most of them I am not proud of, Hermione. I've spent a lifetime atoning for a few mistakes I did in a matter of years. But you have done nothing wrong.”

“Then why do I feel like I've done everything wrong,” Hermione said.

“I don't know,” Death said as he felt her wrap her arms around him. She was relaxing into his embrace, yet a moment later, he felt himself suddenly falling backward. As the ground decided to meet him halfway, he watched as Hermione took off running toward the castle “But I'm planning on finding out.”

I0I

Hermione rushed toward the library, though now devoid of books. She had moved back here, away from everyone following the attack upon Hogwarts. Even if all the books were in storage in the Headmaster's office, she felt that the walls still offered her the most comfort of any other place in the castle. Well, other than the Gryffindor Common Room, but the jerks from the army controlled that. She collapsed onto the bed she had moved in the room hidden behind the desk in the library.

She felt the tears and anger welling inside of her. She shouldn't be like this. She should be out there, getting everyone to follow her way. She was right, she had looked over everything a hundred and ten times. She was right, she had to be. There was no other way to look at situation.

In the beginning things were okay, she was okay. They had start making movements toward finding the other Horocruxes. It was what Harry would have wanted. She was sure of that. Reaching across to her nightstand, she grasped the locket he had left her, the one thing she treasured more than anything in the world. Each time she held in her hands, she felt like she could take on the world because Harry was right there cheering her on. Now though things were different.

Now she could barely stand in the room full of people without fear of them judging her. Before, she could control that fear. Why did it seem to be overcoming her so often now? It had started slowly over the past five years. She felt there were times when she could speak out and times she couldn't. Like around Ginny. There was never a time after Harry left that she could say anything wrong about Ginny, at least in front of her. She just felt this irrational fear. She couldn't explain it as something inside of her that seemed to take over. There were times within the last month though when she felt as if she had more control in her life. Especially since she began to work with getting Death to work with the Order.

She stared up at the rafters in her room, closing her eyes for a moment. The only time she felt good about what she was doing was when was helping the children. She had started to give them her food a while back as well. It was wrong for the soldiers to treat the children as they did, and now more than ever she wished Harry were here to stand up for them. She let sleep take over, knowing that if anyone needed her, they would come for her, in the unlikely event that they did.

Her head shut up at the knocking upon her door. “Hermione, are you coming to meeting?” Hermione looked over at the clock. Ten on Saturday. Time for an Order meeting. It was the same thing every time there was a meeting for the Order. And for the last year she hadn't gone to any of them. Tonks however seemed to have taken over her stubbornness because she still came to ask her every month.

This time though, as she held her locket with Harry in it, she felt the fear loosen its grip. “Yes, give me a moment.” Hermione placed the locket around her neck, drying her eyes as she stood.

“You sure Hermione?” Tonks asked as she opened the door. Hermione nodded, though she was fighting the fear in her stomach. She didn't like giving in all the time, and now felt stronger because she hadn't. She took ten minutes to shower and change, thankful to feel at least close to clean.

The walk to McGonagall's office was silent. Hermione concentrated as much as she could on fighting the fear in her stomach. She was not a Gryffindor for nothing.

As she entered the room, she avoided everyone's eyes. She knew they were upon her, questioning her. She took a seat between Remus and Tonks, thankful for their support. Staring at her lap, she began to repeat a mantra, attempting to build her confidence.

“You okay Hermione?” Ginny asked. Hermione's head shot up, looking at the youngest Weasley. “You're talking to yourself.” She looked back at her lap, the blood rushing to her face. The fear immediately crawled back over her and she felt it rushing over every part of her body. Standing up to leave, she stopped at the wet nose being pressed against her leg.

“Well, Ginny, you know that madness often is a sign of genius,” Death said, stepping away from the shadows. He must have just entered because there was no way that she wouldn't have noticed him. Not like this.

His gunblade was strapped to his back and he wore a duster than kicked at his boots. His hat was hanging over the gunblade, the rope holding it in place. For all intents and purposes, Hermione would have called him a cowboy.

“Besides, you know, I believe these castle walls have heard more than enough people talking to themselves,” Death said. “Especially moans of young teenagers that feel that they are unable to obtain their chosen one.” The twins immediately broke into laughter as Ginny's face now turned bright ride. “Grim, make sure she stays,” Death whispered to the dog. He nodded and proceeded to push Hermione into her seat, his wet nose very persuasive. Hermione watched as he took a seat next to Luna, who only offered him a smile.

“Who invited you here?” Mrs. Weasley asked. Hermione watched as a battlefield seemed to be prepared.

Death, however, just smiled at her. He looked around the room for a moment before pointing. “Him.” Dumbledore floated through the doorway, a blue mist left in his wake.

“Good evening,” Dumbledore said. He made a motion to sit down, resting on nothing but the blue mist that surrounded him. “Now I understand that we were going to discuss the events of the past week first.”

“We were going to,” Mrs. Weasley said. “He wasn't invited.”

“For an Order of the Phoenix, you seem to be shy one,” Death said. Hermione looked between the two of them again, mainly concerned for Death. Mrs. Weasley had become even more overbearing in the last year, protective of her cubs. She had watched her fight over nothing just because her children were “threatened.” While the rest of the Weasleys seemed to care little for it, no one did anything to stop it.

“Fawkes disappeared right after your death,” Mr. Weasley said to Dumbledore. He wore a knowing smirk on his face and looked over at Death. Their twinkles in their eyes were almost identical. They both knew something more than they were letting on, but what Hermione did not know.

“You reckon he'll come back?” Death asked.

“Eventually,” Ron said. “If he doesn't we'll think of something else.”

“Wait, so y'all are just waiting on him? To return?” Death asked.

“Pretty much,” Ron said. Hermione looked over at him, surprised at the candid tone that Ron took. He had changed to so much as well. He cared about the people around them, yet always seemed to be staring off into space, thinking about one thing or another. It reminded her of Luna now that she thought of it.

“That is not on the agenda tonight,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“What is then?” Remus asked. The matriarch of the Weasley family glared at him. It was a common knowledge that if you upset her, or Ginny, you would be hated for a very long time. Hermione was the first and had found that out the hard way. She had yet to move back into the good graces of the family after refusing to go out with Ron, even though he had understood.

“Arthur, tell them,” Mrs Weasley said. Hermione sighed as Mrs. Weasley ordered her family around. She seemed to be openly controlling everyone. Or at least people let her have her way.

“We were going to talk about the defense of the school,” Mr. Weasley said. Tonks let out a sigh and Remus rolled his eyes. Hermione must have guessed it had been a topic of a many of discussions. At this Percy got up with what looked like a detailed report, but was cut off by Dumbledore before he could begin.

“They are fine,” Dumbledore commented. “I have done a sweep of the perimeter, as well as an assessment of all of the wards. Any problems have been fixed.”

“Well, um…. thank you,” Mr. Weasley said. Hermione not help but notice the thankful look on his face as he smiled at Dumbledore. She held back a giggle realizing he had been bored by the topic as much as everyone else was.

“Okay, so what is the next course of business then?” Dumbledore asked. There was a moment of silence. And confusion. There must have never been any other topics that they discussed.

“I've a question,” Ron said, breaking the silence. “Why did we hire you?” He pointed toward Death who had leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he stared over them.

“There is a darkness in this world, that I have seen, that you have seen,” Death said. “You ask why I hired you. Do you want to know what my job will be or why I accepted?”

“I know what you're being paid to do,” Ron said. “You are to find the Horocruxes and destroy them.”

“And while you do what?” Death retorted. “That army of yours needs to do something other than waste your resources.”

“How dare you come in here and tell us how to fight a war? What do you know about war?” Mrs. Weasley had stood up from her chair at this point.

“Mother, relax,” Charlie said, standing as well. Hermione looked over to where Bill sat. Although they never spoke, she believed it was Bill that had stayed his mother's hand the most in regards to her “punishment.” Bill didn't talk much after the war took his first born from him, and nearly his wife. Fleur remained hidden, studying healing spells as Hermione did, though she had no doubt that Fleur was better at it than she was.

Hermione looked over at Death as he leaned forward. As she watched him, she realized that she had never seen her left arm bare. Yesterday he wore gloves that covered both arms as he worked. He only showed them his right arm, but never his left. “Molly, what do you know about Nazis?” All eyes were immediately upon him, and Hermione looked at both Remus and Tonks, their faces etched with pain as well. Luna reached over to hold his left hand, but Death just patted hers with his right before standing up, letting go of her hand. “Do you know anything?”

“What do Grindelwald's forces have to with this?” Mrs. Weasley said, looking confused. Death gave her a grim smile as he shook his head. Grim moved his head into her lap, forcing Hermione to pet him as she waited for an explanation from Death.

“Not much and everything,” he gave a deep chuckle.

“Fawkes, now tell them the truth,” Dumbledore said. Hermione looked over at Dumbledore, confused by the name, but was lost in thought as Death started to speak again.

“In good time, Albus in good time,” Death said, waving off questions. “Nazis were the troops of one Adolf Hilter, to which Grindelwald was his mystic advisors. So in one sense, yes they were Grindelwald's troops. But Hilter ruled with a tighter fist. He had these camps for people who were not of his particular blend of beliefs. People that he didn't like, disappeared in the middle of the night. Most likely to never return. One particular group faced the mass genocide: the Jewish population of Europe, and if he succeeded, the world. There were-”

“What does this have to do with why you are here?” Ginny asked.

“My dear, if you got your head out of that daydream of your chosen one, then things would be more clear,” Death said, glaring at Ginny. Hermione held back a smile as the girl was chastised. Mrs. Weasley however did not like that, and glared at Death. “There were others too sentenced to these camps. Gypsies, homosexuals, prisoners of war, the handicap, and just about anyone that spoke out against Hitler went there. You all understand what Azkaban is like, with the Dementors, correct?” He waited for nods around the table, and Hermione shivered at the memory of the gem that Death had in his possession. His emerald eyes pierced through each person as they looked away, no one able to keep his gaze. Not even Dumbledore. “Picture that, but having that emotion, magnified by total starvation, abuse, fear, anger, and desperation. Picture waking up in the morning to the smell of something burning, and knowing it could be you next in line for the kiln. Then you might come close to a concentration camp. Maybe.”

There was a moment of silence, and in that moment, she looked back up at Death, tears pooling in her eyes as the memory of a daytime war special came to mind. The special on how the British and American troops rescued prisoners from concentration camps, from killing camps.

He removed his right glove first, showing the long scar that ran down his arm. He stared at for a moment before removing the left. Hermione closed her eyes and held Grim's head in her lap, praying for the first time ever, that she wasn't right.

“This is my red badge of courage,” Death said. “My passage into hell paid in full and in blood.” Hermione opened her eyes as the tears fell. She stared at the blue numbers etched into his skin, unblemished beyond the faint numbers. “Do you know wish to know my part in that war?” Hermione held onto Tonks as they shared. Everyone else was in shock, not moving. “I was a doctor before and after the war. I told to administer to the Nazi guards medical care. When I refused, they did not kill me. They made me chose who lived and who died, then beat the living shit out of me. That went on for close to a hundred days. A hundred lives upon my hands, lost. As a doctor, I was sworn to never take a life. I took a hundred.”

“Is that why you have that scar?” Ginny asked. Death looked up at them, shaking his head.

“That, my dear is for another mistake, one that, while to you, happened sooner, but to me happened decades ago,” he gave them a cryptic smile as he spoke. He sat down again, and shot an apologetic look over to Hermione. She tried to smile, but the horror of his actions seemed too powerful for her to take.

“Who are you?” Death looked over at Ron, the silence broken around the room. At this, Death let out another deep chuckle.

“I am a doctor like I said, or was,” Death said with a shrug. “I haven't practiced in a while, so I'm a little rusty. I spent some time traveling, learning a thing or two.” There was a twinkle in his eyes that made Hermione believe he wasn't tell them everything. “I have however, contributed to the Order before.” The room that had been silent moments before was in an uproar, demanding they know how Death had contributed. Hermione shared a smile with Luna, as she realized that Death seemed to thrive on making chaos around them. He also had a way of drawing everyone's attention off one subject and onto another, one that he had more control over.

“What do you mean, contributed?” Mrs. Weasley asked. All eyes narrowed on him. Death just smiled at them. He sat back in his chair and Hermione thought he was going to speak, but surprised them instead.

“There was a boy, a very strange, enchanted boy,” he sang. Out of nowhere, a melody echoed across the halls. Hermione turned toward him, his voice deep like he had said, but resounding and echoing through her. She felt her spirit being lifted. “They say he wandered very far. . . very far, over land and sea.” She glimpsed away from him, and found the other members relaxing, smiling almost as he sang. Hermione turned back to Death, blushing under his gaze. “And then one day, one magic day, he passed my way. And while he spoke of many things . . . fools and kings. . . this he said to me.” The melody echoed through the halls, almost ending before Death seemed to continue. Now though, there were two voices, harmonizing. “The greatest thing, you'll every learn is just to love and be loved in return.” The song crescendoed at the end, echoing even further.

Several moments passed as Death waited with a smirk. Luna seemed to be the first to return to normal, or at least for her as she just smiled. “Wonderful job, I do believe that it was better than a Cross-Eyed Horny Toads of South Africa.”

“I try,” Death said, smiling. The smile seemed to take away the damage age had done to him, what little there was, and show her the man inside. A man that reminded her of Harry.

She looked away, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks as she stared. She felt embarrassed that she was attracted to a man almost seventy years her senior. Embarrassed would be an understatement, as she felt down right foolish and stupid.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ginny asked. Her words snapped everyone else out of the trance, and frowns replaced content looks upon their faces.

“You have no sense for the dramatic,” Death whispered. Both Luna and Remus laughed at this, causing the matriarch of the Weasley family to glare at them. “I think I'd rather have you explain.”

Dumbledore floated over to Death's side, standing upon the ground now as he placed a hand upon Death's shoulder. A burden was lifted from Death it seemed as his eyes seemed to relax slightly. For him, Hermione would have gladly taken the burden. She felt a connection that was not unlike the one she felt toward Harry. Blushing again, she turned away, petting Grim's head as the dog snorted.

“Fawkes has disappeared, because he went in search of ingredients for a ritual to revive me.” Dumbledore said.

“Then why hasn't he returned?” Mr. Weasley asked. Death looked at him like he was crazy, and Hermione could not help but agree with Mrs. Weasley. Yet something had been said, that told her. Why did Death stare at them? Where they missing something obvious? She began to replay the meeting over in her mind, trying to remember something. Dumbledore….Dumbledore had called him…

“Fawkes?” Hermione asked in a soft voice. Death's head snap around toward her, his face devoid of emotions.

“What did you say, Hermione?” Tonks asked. Hermione felt everything falling in place. She felt the smile growing further across her face, matching the one on Death's face as she spoke.

“Fawkes,” she said again.

“Right in one,” Death said, leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms, a smile spreading across his face at the chaos that he had manage to create.

“How is this possible?” Hermione managed to get out. He smiled at her for a moment as Dumbledore moved to speak.

“Silence!” His voice echoed across the room. “You wish to understand what is happening here, then you will cease this aimless chattering, and listen. Else we will walk out of here.” There was an edge to his voice that none of them had heard before. An edge that Hermione realized must have come from his death. Gone was the twinkle in his eyes, yet it seemed to have moved over toward Fawkes's eyes.

“Now, Fawkes is what can be called a totem, a man or animal that binds with the other to form the same spirit. One loses the life in the process, for giving their earthly bonds to the other is the price they pay,” Dumbledore began. Death was gone Hermione realized as there seemed to be one burden lifted from Fawkes's shoulders. Yet his face was still strained with both time and weight of possible the world on his shoulders.

“It takes years or training, for the body to not reject the other spirit, but in time, they become one, so much that it is impossible to tell where one ends, and the other begins,” Fawkes commented.

“Fawkes is not the phoenix that gave his feathers to be made into wands, nor is he the man that resided in the concentrations camps,” Dumbledore said. “In fact, this is a horse of a different color.” Hermione smiled lightly at the movie reference.

“Did you save Harry though his second year?” Ginny asked. Fawkes gave a sad smile.

“Yes, I did,” Fawkes said. “I became the man you see today sometime around Moony's days here at Hogwarts.” Hermione watched Remus nearly fall out of his chair, and laughed with Fawkes as Remus stood.

“You knew?” Remus asked. Fred and George stared at him in awe as one of their mentors was revealed.

“Course I did,” Fawkes said with a laugh. “You think I'd be a little slow not to figure it out.” He laughed again as Remus joined in. “But yeah, I've been here a while.”

“Why didn't you help us out? Why didn't you help Harry out?” Hermione asked.

“There are things that needed to pass before I could show this face again,” Fawkes said simply. “What kind of students would you be if you didn't learn from your mistakes?” He stood from his seat. “I suppose the best way to stop the questions, or maybe is it to generate more, is to show you.” He shrugged his shoulders as he removed his duster and scabbard. “You wish for proof no doubt, correct?” The nods around the table did not disturb the silence that surrounded them.

Fawkes stood with his back turned, showing the edges of a tattoo of flames upon his back. Hermione was amazed at the detail; she almost believed that the flames were alive.

“Fawkes are you sure that this is necessary?” Dumbledore asked. Fawkes gave him a smile, though there was a sense of fatigue and worry in Dumbledore's voice.

Hermione watched as the tattoo flared to life, growing across Fawkes's back. The flames of the tattoo burned through the shirt he wore, showing the tattoo for what it truly was: a phoenix.

The beak of the phoenix moved along his neck, as if singing. The tail moved across his lower back, showing the defined muscles underneath. Hermione felt the heat rising to her face, but it wasn't just embarrassment this time. The room was getting warmer as the flames engulfed Fawkes's body.

The ball of fire that was Fawkes floated over the table. The darkness that was in the room faded with the heat as the flames floated. Hermione saw Grim moving over toward the table, stepping up onto it to watch as well. She could not help but smile at the dog's actions. Her eyes were drown back to the ball of fire a song floated out of it. Fawkes dispersed the flames with a flap of his wings, spreading them around the table. He flapped his wings, flying above them as the flames fell to the ground, wrapping them in a circle of flames.

“Stay calm,” Dumbledore said. He had moved outside of the ring of fire. Hermione could not help but think of an old song she had heard over the radio as a child at that thought. True to the song, the flames rose over their chairs. Hermione shivered as she felt a wave of magic pass over her body. She felt renewed and reenergized, but confused at the same time. Fawkes had managed to give her a look as he landed upon the table, a look that matched her confusion.

“The Order has been renewed at last,” Dumbledore spoke, breaking Fawkes and Hermione's gaze.

“Weren't we already the Order?” Ginny asked. She glared at Hermione from across the table. Hermione felt the fear rise in her again, as she looked away. Fawkes landed lightly upon her shoulder, nuzzling her head against his own. Though his wings were flames, she felt no burns against her neck, only a soothing warmth. Like an old friend coming home.

“No,” Dumbledore said. “You may have been a order, but not the Order of the Phoenix. Not until a phoenix blessed you all and bound you together.”

“Arthur is still the leader, right?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“That is up to him to decide.” Dumbledore pointed toward Fawkes as he floated back to his seat. In a less theatrical morph, Fawkes returned to his seat, sans shirt. He looked ready to collapse against the table.

“Tomorrow,” he said. Fawkes had propped his body against the table in what looked like an effort to keep his head from hitting it.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked. Luna had moved to help him sit up, and Hermione did the same, but he waved yjr, off.

“No.” Fawkes stood, gathering his supplies. Hermione still could hardly believe the man before he was close to eighty. His body was too well toned and fit to even be considered over thirty. “I haven't been for a long time.” He waved his hand, and the candles around them extinguished. All that remained was the dull glow of Dumbledore “Tomorrow, same time.” He left them in the dark, both figuratively and physically, as Dumbledore followed him out.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Hermione's head snapped to face Ginny, as did the others in the room. Anger swelled in her toward Ginny at her treatment of Fawkes. He was a good man and he looked like he was in pain.

“Ginny, that man there might be our only hope,” Ron said.

“I don't care who he is, he was rude to me,” Ginny pouted in her chair.

“Ginny, fucking grow up,” Ron said, standing from his chair. “Got off your goddamn cross, cry me a river, build a bridge and get the hell over it.”

“Ronald Bilius Weasley, how dare you tell your sister off like that?” Mrs. Weasley asked, fury in her voice.

“Mother, if you had any idea about the greater good, you'd have told her off a long time again,” Ron said. Hermione could not help but smile brightly at Ron's actions as he stood, leaving them as well.

Mrs. Weasley was too shocked to say anything as the rest of her family left. Hermione stood as well, surprised to see Grim following her. “You spending the night with me?” She asked as Grim nodded his head.

“Oh please, as if anything would want to spend a night with you?” Ginny sneered.

“Ginvera Weasley, that is enough,” Mr. Weasley nearly yelled. Ginny snapped back to look at her father in surprise. Hermione felt the fear rising in her as she ran out of the room, missing the argument the ensued between Mrs. Weasley and her husband.

“Hermione, what happened?” Tonks asked as she rushed past them. Vaguely she heard a dog barking behind her as she sprinted toward the library. Expecting to be alone, she was surprised to see Fawkes sitting with Dumbledore at one of the tables in the back.

“Everything is so empty now,” Fawkes said as he looked around. Hermione moved to hide from them, wanting to know why they were there. And she wanted to see the man called Fawkes from someone else's perspective maybe.

“A library is not a library without books,” Dumbledore said.

“No doubt Hermione saved as many as she could, and hide them somewhere,” Fawkes said with a smile. She felt the blush rise on her face as Grim took off from his spot next to her. “Hey, I thought I told you to look after Hermione for me.” She felt her anger rising at the thought.

“I don't need anyone to look after me,” Hermione said, moving out of her hiding spot.

“Well, I….” Fawkes seemed to stumble over the words as Dumbledore chuckled.

“What my esteemed colleague means is that he believed you would enjoy some company here in the library,” Dumbledore said.

“That doesn't mean that I can't take care of myself,” Hermione said. “I am a very capable witch, thank you very much.”

“You know, I'm sorry, but it is important to protect your assets,” Fawkes said raising his hands. Hermione wanted to say something, but she felt embarrassed by his words. She was an asset to him? She did not have long to think about it as he made a move to stand, but quickly fell back into the seat. He looked to be barely sitting up in the seat already.

“What happened?” Hermione asked. She moved forward to his side as he sat. His breathing seemed labor, yet he still did not have the look of a man his age should.

“He is exhausted,” Dumbledore answered. “Like any muscle, he has not used magic in quite some time, and therefore the muscle, while it may act strong for a time, will tire quickly. Fawkes while in his phoenix form used magic sparingly, but in a theatrical fashion. Which is why he is able to do simple spells far easier then the rest, but the more power he exerts the more tired he gets.”

“Why are you here?” Fawkes said. He had a glazed look in his eyes, almost like he was too tired to understand.

“I live back here,” Hermione said simply. His head shot up, his eyes now alert. “I live in the office behind the library, where I did manage to keep some of the books. It helps me sometimes when I feel alone.”

“Oh,” he said, a blush on his face. Hermione could not help but smile at the innocent look that crossed the totem's face.

“Why are you here?” Hermione asked. She helped him sit up in his chair, and ignored his protests as she case several prognosis charms over him. He was in fact exhausted, but his magical abilities were like none she had ever seen before. It would be only a matter of time before he was back to full strength.

“The library is a place to find answers,” Fawkes said. He wore a weary smile on his face as he spoke. “I was hoping to find some of my own.”

“Did you?” Hermione asked as Grim moved over to her side. She pet his head as he leaned into her, nearly knocking her over. Fawkes shook his head as he stared at the two of them.

“I came here because a friend of mine always went to the library when she was upset, lonely, or just needed to think.” He stood slowly, pushing off on his knees and holding onto the table to stand. “I hoped to rid myself of all three while I am here.” He walked off slowly, stopping next to Hermione to pet Grim. “Do you mind taking care of him for me? I'm usually not very good company these days.”

“I can be the judge of that,” Hermione said, giving him a smile. “I think we'll get along great.” She scratched Grim's head behind the ears, causing her to almost topple over as he leaned his full weight against her. “He's just a big puppy, that's all.”

“Well, then I leave you two at that,” Fawkes said. He stared at her for a moment, and Hermione blushed under the gaze. He gave her a sad smile before leaving her with Dumbledore and Grim.

“How is he, really?” Hermione asked, turning toward the Headmaster.

“I wish I could say,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “There is more to his world then what he has told you all tonight, and I have only recently been privy to this knowledge. The burden he bears is beyond compare. Heavier than a prophecy for the fate of the world, but just as devastating.” He stood from the chair he was in, the room's light floating in disarray with his own glow. “Good night, Miss Granger. I wish there was more for me to tell, but I feel that you will find out in time.”

“Good night, professor,” Hermione said as she watched the spectral man leave them. She looked down at Grim, and gave him a sad smile. “Come on, you can sleep on my floor.” She turned and left to her room, knowing that sleep would not be easy as she worried for Fawkes.

He was the man they had hired to work for them, yet he was a symbol of their school. Did he really work for them or did they work for him? Fawkes was not someone that could lightly be thought as a worker, yet he was here doing this for them. He really had no obligation to them, now that Hermione thought of it. Why did he return? Was it a sense of loyalty to them all, or was there something more to what Fawkes was planning on doing?

“He's such a stranger to us all, even though he was here for six years with me,” Hermione whispered to Grim. He snorted and circled on the rug in her room before lying down. She smiled at the dog, glad for some company before going to the bathroom and changing for bed. However, when she came out, the dog was no longer on the floor but now upon her rather small bed.

“Down, get down from there,” Hermione said to him in her student lecturing voice, yet it had little to know effect. “Please.” She begged him, the weariness of the day and lack of lunch getting to her. He raised his head before looking toward her desk. She turned and looked there as well to see a steaming bowl of stew and a glass of cold tea for her.

Please eat, you need your strength was allthe note said. Hermione looked down at the bowl before eating it slowly. She knew full well where the meal had come from, and silently thanked the totem. As she ate, she read over one of the books about the magical entities of the other regions of the world, specifically the Native American aspects, trying to find something about totems and mainly about the man named Fawkes.

With her meal finished and her stomach full, she felt the emotionally draining day catch up with her. She planned on meeting the children for dinner again, like she always did, and set her alarm clock accordingly. A two-hour nap should be sufficient to reenergize her. And maybe, the fear would be gone later. It was never to late to hope.

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Chapter Four: Setting the Board

Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes. Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Fawkes sat upon his porch, watching the sunrise. After returning from the meeting, he reluctantly went to bed at Dumbledore's insistence. Even though he was reaching the older man's age, he still was bossed

around like a child, which in a sense he still should have been. The sunrise was always there for him, in his darkest hours, and on his happiest days. It was always there. He remembered holding his grandson on a morning just like this not five years ago. Five years ago before all of this had happened and he hadn't disappeared.

“He'll be here in the next few days,” Fawkes said as Dumbledore floated next to him.

“Do you expect a warm welcome for him?” Dumbledore asked but they knew the answer. A moment of silence lapsed as they heard Remus and Tonks approaching, angry looks upon their faces.

“You were here,” Remus said. Fawkes smiled at the tone of his voice. He was angry with him yet that didn't matter. Remus didn't understand and maybe never would. “You could have changed history, you could have saved Sirius. You could have saved your parents!” He yelled at Fawkes at this point, and Dumbledore looked away. “They would have been alive, and living

“Could I have?” Fawkes said, still seating. “How do you know that things didn't change already, and they are a result of me changing them?” Remus stopped his rant as Fawkes looked back at the sunrise. “Eighty years, eighty fucking years I've been gone. I've had a lot of time to change the world.”

“Then why didn't you?” Remus asked. There was still an edge to his voice.

“Do you ever wake up and wish you could relive a day? But then you realize, that things have to be that way, so you can become the man you are today?” Fawkes asked. He let out a soulless laugh. “Its odd being a grandfather, and yet knowing you technically are younger than your daughter.”

“What?” Remus nearly fell over, and Tonks did. “You have daugther….but….but?” His voice trailed off as both of them tried to grasp his comment.

“Yeah,” Fawkes said, standing from the porch. “I'd rather leave that alone right now. If you don't mind.” He did not wish to drag through those thoughts again, as the haunting of them returned to him.

“Why didn't you do anything though to stop this from happening?” Remus asked.

“Because it had to pass,” Fawkes said. “I don't know how else to explain it.”

“Time marches on and FATE has in store for us certain things,” Luna said as she walked over to them. “Morning, brother.” She said, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. He smiled down at her as she took his place on the porch. “She decides on certain things that must happen, and they do. Oh they may come earlier, or later, but there are certain things that must happen. Falling in love is one of them.”

“Did you know about this Luna?” Tonks asked, regaining her voice.

“Know about what?” She cocked her head to the side, a vacant look to her eyes.

“Not all things are of this world,” Fawkes said, scratching his head. “Moony, you really don't understand do you?”

“What's there to understand? You could have saved them. Being able to save them and not is as good as killing them, H-!” His voice was immediately cut out as Fawkes held him above the ground. He felt the curses and spells hitting his back as Tonks fired them at him. They were painful and would have stopped a lesser totem.

“Let's get this straight.” Fawkes said. There was a fire in his eyes and he felt his body warm at the magic beginning to flow through it. “You have no idea how much hell I went through, knowing that I could have saved them but didn't. You stand here and accuse me of doing nothing? I could say the same of you. Five fucking years, Remus? How long does it take before you lose faith in me and decide that it might, just might be a good idea to start looking for another way?” He dropped Remus to the ground. “You ever want to speak again to me, you will drop this. What I have done and haven't done this last seventy years are not and will never be of your concern.”

“How can you say that?” Tonks asked. Fawkes waved his hand, disarming her easily. He stalked towards her, daring her to try and take him on.

“Because you where not there,” Fawkes said. “Just like I barely have the right to ask you about these past five years, you have no right to ask me about mine.”

“What gives you the right to ask us?” Tonks said, turning on him.

“Because you need me,” Fawkes said in a quiet voice. “I can go on living without all of you, it'll hurt like hell, but I can do it. If you all, if she wants me to leave after this, I will disappear, forever.” He walked off, not needing to hear anymore. They had heard enough from him. “Lose one friend, lose all friends, lose yourself.” He said as he walked toward the lake. He was not sure if they heard him, but it sounded like Luna had rounded on Remus, which he could not help but smile at her defense of him.

He walked slowly, taking in the air. There was an evil taint to it, making it muskier than it really should be. Already his work with the garden had taken root, and seemed to be cleaning some of the area, but he needed to cleanse the area first for the real growth to begin. Too much dark had happened here these last few years.

Taking a deep breath, he concentrated upon his voice, his method of cleansing. It was tiring, yet relaxing at the same time, something he found that helped him when he worked in the third world for while.

“Amazing Grace. How sweet the sound.” He lifted his arms as he sang, letting the music and magic flow across the lake. With everything he had, he sang. From depths he felt the sound echo against the magic inside of him before being joined as it left him. With each word, the sun was little brighter, the grass a little greener, and the hope surrounding him was a little stronger.

He felt the taint in the air disappearing, shuddering away from the land as his magic spread. His song was lifting the land up, away from beauty that had captured the land when he was here.

With the final notes of the song, as he closed his mouth the sound echoed across the now clear lake. The cloud cover had disappeared and what remained gave an ethereal beauty to the lake, even more than that had been there when he attended.

“Wow.” Fawkes turned to see Hermione walking up to him. He gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he noticed the difference in the grass. One was brighter than the other, and was softer to the touch.

“I didn't work all the way,” Fawkes said. He pointed the grass out to Hermione, who just shrugged.

“I'm just amazed you manage to cleanse this area so much,” she said. “We've been looking for a spell to clean this area for so long. And you just walk up and do it.” She shook her head as she walked closer. “I feel so useless sometimes.”

“Being useless sometimes is better than being useful none of the time.” Fawkes said with a smile. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“I'll trade it for some company on my walk,” she offered. He nodded and walked beside her. Shoving his hands in his pockets only kept the urge to hold her hand at bay. They walked in silence once around the lake, letting them take in the changed beauty.

There was peacefulness that had returned to the lake, one that he hoped to return to the castle over time. It would take time, but as always, the best things do.

“I want to thank you for the lunch yesterday,” Hermione said, breaking the silence.

“Well, I need the brains of the outfit working at all times,” he said with a smile. She blushed at his compliment. “Don't worry about it, I look out for my friends.”

“I found that spell you were looking for,” Hermione said with a smile at the thought of being his friend. “I can perform it later this afternoon.”

“Good, just after the Order meeting sounds about right,” he said. He kept wlaking knowing that she had stopped. “Oh, you think I forgot?”

“No,” she said, catching up to him. “You just seemed exhausted yesterday.”

“I was, that's why I slept in today,” he said. He let the silence spread between them, yet found no discomfort in it. It was some time before they spoke again, and Fawkes could only guess that she was thinking, the biting of her lip being his only clue.

“Why don't you use magic?” Hermione asked as they finished a lap.

“Well, I guess its because magic royally screwed me out of a chance at a normal life,” Fawkes said. “I mean, before I became who I am today, I was relatively normal teenager with a few twitches of excitement each year.” He could barely contain the smile on his face as he thought of how minor those incidents of excitement were in relation to the rest of his life.

“I guess I can understand that, but why give it up?” Hermione asked again.

“Because magic is meant to be a part of a person, not the person,” Fawkes said. “While I may be called a hypocrite for this, I believe that every person that is gifted with the use of magic has to learn to live without it completely before they can understand the value and assist that magic is.”

“Why would you be called a hypocrite?” Hermione asked as he stopped walking. Fawkes looked out into the lake, wondering if the merpeople were still there. While he doubted it, he began to wonder if the changes he had brought were only on the surface. He'd have to check this out later, right now Hermione seemed to becoming increasing irritated with him.

“Because of what I am,” Fawkes said with a smile. “A bond between magic and man, so permanent, even death would not separate us. Well maybe, but I don't plan on testing that theory.” He gave her a grin as he stared back into the lake. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live another life, away from this all?”

“Everyday,” Hermione said. She looked away at this, which only peeked his interest even more.

“What do you mean?” Fawkes asked.

“I mean that I sometimes wish that Harry had never left, that he had let me come with him,” Hermione said. She turned away from him, not allowing him to see her tears. Which was for the best as he felt his body shudder in agony and regret. “I don't understand; why did he leave without me?” She turned to face him, and Fawkes drew upon everything he had not to hold her in his arms. He did this to her. He did that and so much more.

“If he left, he must have meant to return,” Fawkes said, calmly. She nodded, hugging herself. “He did send you letters at least, right?” He knew that he did, sent two of them with Hedwig before he miss-stepped through time. She shook her head before letting his arms wrap around her. He did not recall telling them to, they did it upon instinct and care. While she sobbed into his chest, his mind tried to grasp upon the fact that he had sent the letters, she just did not receive them.

They stayed like that for a moment before Hermione jumped back blushing. Fawkes just smiled, happy to feel young again. Younger than he had felt in years. “I'm sorry, I must have stained your shirt.”

“Not a probably,” he said. “Let's head back to my hut for lunch, Luna and Remus should be done arguing by now.” He had to figure a way to get those letters to her without showing who he was. It was too soon for that, and Remus was almost ruining everything he had planned just by telling Tonks. It seemed inevitable that everyone would find out eventually, just how soon was the variable. Too soon was wrong as was too late. Everything had to happened, but when was the question. When?

“What were they arguing about?” Hermione asked.

“Me,” Fawkes said with a smile. “Remus took offense to something I said, and Luna is straightening him out. Trust me, you don't want to know.” His smile grew across his face as he saw them still arguing.

“It has to be this way,” Luna finally said. Remus looked ready to retort, yet stopped when Fawkes returned.

“Yes it does, but things change,” Fawkes said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “I believe it is time to hold a meeting of the order.” He left them at that, knowing they would follow him. What surprised him the most was Hermione was the first to catch up to him, walking beside him. He gave her a smile, slowing slightly to have her walk next to him. “Wouldn't care to tell me where Grim is would you?” He asked as they walked.

“Lazy mutt, stole my bed from me,” she mumbled causing him to laugh. Grim was certainly living up to the name of his predecessor.

“Just tell him that if he wants to stay with you, Fawkes says `get the hell off,'” he said with a laugh.

They made more idle conversation as they walked, but Fawkes's mind was not with it. He kept running through what he needed to get down. What needed to be accomplished before he could reveal himself once again. He had too many secret identities, like a bad superhero comic. The thought made him chuckle.

I0I

Hermione sat next to Fawkes this time, surprisingly at his request. Luna was on his other side, reading a book upside-down. The fear wasn't growing as much this time, sitting next to him. She felt safer, though she never would be able to explain it.

“Thank you all for coming,” Fawkes said. “I believe it is time to reevaluate what this order has been doing.”

“We were doing just fine,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Everything was going just fine.”

“Really,” Fawkes said. He waved his hand and a ledge appeared next to him. “Hermione could you please open to the marked page and begin reading?” She took the book, finding a list of dates and names on the page.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, realizing what the names and dates were. Fawkes nodded, though his glare never left Mrs. Weasley.

“Sprout, Pomona. Died on August 1^st, 1998.” She paused gathering her breath as she read. “Slughorn, Horace. Died on August 1^st, 1998. Pince, Irma. Died on August 1^st, 1998.”

“Stop,” Mrs .Weasley said. Hermione looked up from the book over at her. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes as Hermione spoke.

“Zabini, Blaise. Died on August 2^nd, 1998. Parkinson, Pansy. Died on August 2^nd, 1998.” It was difficult for her, but also cathartic in a way. She had never accepted their deaths, especially of those that were among the first to fall. Even the ones that they had thought were Death Eaters had fought with them, which surprised Hermione. However, that battle had relinquished to the history books as had the reading of the deaths. “Linder, Charles. Died on October 31^st, 2000. Thomas, Dean. Died on-”

“Shut up!” Ginny screamed. Hermione looked up from the book, finally noticing the tears along her own cheeks. “They died like heroes, defending us.”

“And you remember them by hiding.” Fawkes said. “Where is the honor in that? They died for a conviction, and you do nothing for them in return. That is the legacy of your order Molly. And its high time that it changes.”

“How dare you?” Mrs. Weasley said, standing up from her seat.

“I dare because it is the right thing, not the easy thing to do,” Fawkes said. “No matter what I say today, unless you get over your petty belief that you are always and forever right in your ways, I will ask that you not return to an Order meeting.” The way he spoke convinced Hermione that he was not asking Mrs. Weasley anything, more like threatening her. “Now, we start with moving the soldiers out of my school.”

“Your school?” Mrs. Weasley asked more confused then anything else. Fawkes nodded, and Hermione grabbed a quill, taking notes of the meeting. She didn't know if she wasn't supposed to, but the smile from Fawkes as he spoke made the decision seem all the better.

“Well, that is if you do not mind me taking over it, Headmistress?” Fawkes asked.

“Not at all, it hasn't been much of a school since the attacks,” McGonagall said with a smile.

“Very well,” Fawkes said. “We will be taking back the castle, and reopening the school by Christmas.” Hermione could see his fingers counting down against his arm. She almost laughed as they hit one and everyone burst into outrage, rage and just surprise. “Yes, this is first and foremost a school. A school that will not fall again. It was a mistake for me to leave, and it was a mistake that closed down this school, not any more.”

“But what will stop You-Know-Who from attacking?” Flitwick asked.

“Why else would be have an army, if we do not use it?” Fawkes responded. “Now, I open the floor to suggests on what to do with the school.”

“Expand the boundaries,” Hermione said, as she was writing. At the silence, she looked up to everyone staring at her.

“What would that accomplish?” Charlie asked.

“Everything,” Mad-eye said. “It would give us more ground to protect, but it would also allow for more land to be integrated into the wards.”

“We could even let people come here as refugees, offering protection for them and their families.” Lupin added. Hermione had begun to make a chart of the advantages.

“Wouldn't this attract Voldemort even more?” Arthur commented.

“It might, but no more if we also go after his cells across England,” Fawkes said. “But one thing at a time. Fred, George, Charlie, Neville, and Mad-eye, I want you four to be working on wards of the castle. Research and implement them. I don't care how horrible the enemies of mine are hurt, but they will be. My enemies, and my enemies alone, understand. That is my only stipulation.” The four that he assigned nodded, but Hermione caught the twinkle in Fawkes's eyes. Now was not the time to bring up that question, but he was hiding something else from them. “Professors, Moony, Tonks, I need you all to start fixing any problems within the school. Simple put, this place needs to be fixed completely before we start allowing students to be taught here. Any problems, come to me, and I'll see what I can do about it.”

“What should we do?” Arthur asked.

“I need some help with contacts outside of Hogwarts, I need you to work on that, Mr. Weasley.” Fawkes said. “Mrs. Weasley, if you wish to help your husband, you may, or you may help with the cleaning of the school. The choice is yours; please notify me in regards to the choice by the end of the week.

“Ron, Luna and Hermione, I need you three to start prepare a list of not only possible spells for us to be trained with, but also on the Horocruxes,” Fawkes said to them. “We will begin training shortly after the first of October, but until then, please prepare whatever you think will be necessary, concentrating on different areas.”

“What about me?” Ginny asked.

“You have been very vocal about my actions here,” Fawkes said leaning forward. “Now, I like the fiery spirit, yet you are sorely misguided if you think I will falter under your will. You will be rebuilding our potions stocks of healing potions and such, until the Potions Master I have recruited returns. At that point, I will decide where your skills are needed the most.” He looked around the table, and Hermione felt his magic echo through his stare as he moved from person to person. “Each of us has a job, a job that is of the utmost importance. I expect that you all act with the proper regard and respect that you would place into any other task you take. I will be assisting where I can, but for the most part will allow you all to work together or alone in the groups I've assigned.”

“What about me and my wife?” Bill asked.

“You two have more important things to worry about at the moment and I will speak with you afterwards.” Fawkes said. “Now, that brings us back to the orphans we have here. They do not deserve to be living in the dungeon. Not as long as I am here.” His glare moved around the room, as if searching for the person who allowed this to happen. If Hermione had to admit it, she would have said they all did, with her playing the role of anger without reaction. “I will be speaking with the leader of the army, whoever the hell that is, and he will be out of the Gryffindor tower by the end of the week.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” Remus asked. Hermione had an idea, but knew it would be discarded immediately. Though it was the only way she knew that wouldn't result in a death.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Fawkes said. “I mean there is a the traditional way of asking politely, but I doubt that would work with these people.”

“You could formally challenge him,” Mad-eye offered. “You'd have to duel him, with his stipulations, but that would work enough to gain their respect.”

“We need all the strength we can get, and these people are going to have to be strong to provide it.” Arthur said. Fawkes nodded and stood from his seat. The meeting was coming to a close. Hermione finished up recording, surprised at how short the meeting was, but more condensed than the others they had.

“If that is all, then I ask for you to leave, Bill, if you would stay please?” Fawkes said. He placed a hand upon Hermione's shoulder, preventing her from standing. She looked up at him confused at his actions. He just smiled and held her down in a firm grasp. Her confused look matched everyone else's, but she could not help but feel slightly giddy and excited at this privilege from Fawkes, whatever it may be.

“Bill, she is just recording the meeting, and technically this is still apart of the meeting.” Fawkes said. “Now, how is Fleur?”

“Fine,” Bill said stiffly. Hermione watched him, pausing in her notes. Bill hadn't met with anyone much over the past few months, and Fleur hadn't been seen. Hermione knew they were keeping to themselves, but she really didn't understand why. There was a pause in the conversation, one that Hermione took as Fawkes looking for answers.

“How far along is she?” Fawkes said, leaning against the table. Hermione's head snapped over to Bill who looked away.

“Eight and a half months,” Bill said. “We didn't want a repeat of last time.” Hermione stood from her seat and wrapped him in a hug. She and Fleur had gotten closer since the beginning of the war, much to Ginny's chagrin. One of the reasons she had begun training in the healing arts was to help Fleur with her delivery. Their first child died from a miscarriage after Fleur had gotten into an argument with Molly over Molly's treatment of Hermione. Bill wrapped his arms around her, hugging her slightly.

“Your mother would love a grandchild,” Fawkes said evenly. He seemed to know already what had happened.

“I don't know what she wants anymore,” Bill said with a shake of his head.

“I'm so sorry, Bill,” Hermione said, pulling away.

“It isn't your fault, the blame falls squarely on my mother's shoulders for agitating Fleur like that,” Bill said. “It was my idea to keep her out of Mum's way. She had been fussing over Fleur as it was, and she doesn't need any more excitement.”

“How rough was it last time?” Fawkes said. Hermione realized he had moved into his doctor mode for lack of a better term. “Any complications?”

“The umbilical cord choked the child,” Bill said. “It nearly killed Fleur too when she was trying to give birth. She lost so much blood, I had to, to save her.” Fawkes nodded, understanding what Bill had meant.

“He would have understood,” Fawkes said. “The death of a child is a horrible thing to have to experience.” There was a pause as Fawkes stared at Bill, as if making a decision. “I wish to offer my services to you, as a doctor.”

“”What?” Bill looked like he had been slapped.

“You need a doctor there,” Fawkes said. “And while I do not know anything in regards to the magical aspect that healers use, as a doctor, I have help women with births over a score of times. Which is why I'm asking Hermione here to assist with the magical aspect. We want to cover all of our bases.”

“You'd do that for me?” Bill asked. He looked from Fawkes to Hermione, staring at her in surprise. Although she had no idea of Fawkes's plan, she would have been there the first time if Bill had asked her.

“In a heartbeat,” Hermione said, smiling.

“Before you thank us, there is one more thing,” Fawkes said. He removed a small vial from his belt. “Tell Fleur to drink this, it should help with any repairs magic may not have been able to fix.” With that he stood, and moved toward the door. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes, torn from Bill and Fawkes.

“What is it?” Bill asked as he swirled it in the vial. Fawkes gave them a disarming smile as he stopped at the door, staring back at them.

“My tears,” he said. “For your lost son. I will be by to see her this weekend. A check up is in order. Make sure you keep doing what you have been, but see that she is relaxed.” With that, he left them in shock.

“The man knows how to leave them asking for more,” Bill chuckled, still staring at the vial. “Why would he give me his tears? There isn't even that much here.”

“I don't know,” Hermione said. She took the vial carefully from Bill, the silver tears moving like mercury. “No, he couldn't have.” Her voice was almost a whisper as she spoke. She didn't want to test it, but if Fawkes had given Bill his tears…. “Bill, these are phoenix tears. They're said to heal all ailments, most current and old ones to anyone. If drunk, the potency of the tears is decreased to newer problems, but scarred tissues and damaged muscles are repaired in a way that magic can't fix it.”

Bill took the vial and held it in his hands almost reverently. Tears form in his eyes as he held onto the tears. “I'll talk to you later, okay Hermione?” She nodded, still surprised at Fawkes actions

Phoenix tears were not given freely and rarely were they held. Most often they were too magically acidic for the tears to be held in any type of vial or cauldron. Yet Fawkes had managed to harvest his own tears, and hold them. The tears themselves looked to have been settling for quick some time, increasing the potency of the tears. That was in theory at least.

She let out a sigh, as she gathered her own books. She was glad she had taken notes, and heading toward the library, she'd start to go through the books. She felt a sense of pride begin to surround her as smiled at her idea. While it wasn't as good as a pensive, it was an immediate copy of the events of the meeting. Now though, she wanted to begin looking for the spells that Fawkes asked them to find. It was a reasonable request, one she knew that she could easily accomplish.

Fawkes had been right when he said she had stored some of the books, but he would never know how right he had been. She managed to save every book in the Hogwarts library, hidden from even McGonagall, but she suspected that she knew to a degree. With one last look down the hallway that Fawkes walked away from her, she smiled, knowing that her new friend would return. Giving her hope that Harry would return as well.

I0I

Fawkes had left them all to their own devices, planning on preparing a bit more of his magic for the duel against the leader of the army they had stationed here. Charles Nathaniel Jacobson the Fourth. A pureblood if Fawkes had ever heard of one. It disgusted him to know that such loyalties were still around, despite the attacks of Voldemort. Some men bow to no one.

Others think they are the ones that need to be bowed to.

Still, there were advantages to his totem. Age seemed to just remand him for defying her. It was odd for him to personify the abstract such as age, time, and fate. He had started to personify the abstract when he attended the monastery. Now it was one of those habits he did not think about. Such was the reward for living so long.

“Why did you trust him?” Fawkes turned to look at Dumbledore. His form was fading, the blue lines harder to determine than they were a month ago. He still had a great deal of time left though.

“I asked you the same question,” Fawkes said. “And I remember being told to trust you.” Fawkes smiled at the headmaster. They walked toward his hut, knowing the privacy in the school was only safe in the room they met with the order. For now at least.

“Because of his love for Lily Evans,” Dumbledore said. “Love does blind people from time to time.” He gave Fawkes a knowing look. “It clouds even the clearest of minds at times.”

“And makes bonds stronger than steel, more flexible than rubber,” Fawkes said. “Yes, on more than one occasion, love has hurt as much as it has helped me.”

“That still does not answer my question though,” Dumbledore said with a smirk.

“Then trust me this once,” Fawkes said. He turned to look at Dumbledore, needing to get his point across. “There are things between us that need to remain hidden for now. He saved the lives of several people very important to me, and I manage to hide him away long enough for my return.”

“Why did you hide him?” Dumbledore asked. Fawkes shook his head, smiling at the question.

“He asked.”

“I meant why trust him before that,” Dumbledore asked.

“I had to trust myself first,” Fawkes said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“A wise decision no doubt.” Dumbledore moved to let Fawkes stare out into the sunset. Neither spoke, but both sensed the approaching of someone. Traits marked to living so long, both had decided.

“Hello Hermione,” Fawkes said, still staring out at the sunset. He turned to see the telltale signs of a blush on her face. She must have not expecting him to respond to her right away. “Ready for the spell?”

“Yes, if it is alright with you,” Hermione said.

“I will always have time for you,” Fawkes said. He stood up from the seat. “Albus, we'll need to prepare for that soon I think.”

“What was that about?” Hermione asked as Fawkes led her away.

“Preparations for my potions master to arrive,” Fawkes said. “Ginny may know a thing or two, but not enough for what we need.” He stopped at the edge of his field, looking at the plants and vines waiting to grow. “I need to cleanse it first.” Hermione's eyes lit up at this, a smile spreading across her face.

“Does this mean you'll sing again?” Hermione asked. Fawkes gave her a smile, missing the blush on her cheeks as he turned away.

“Any suggestions?” Fawkes said, smiling lightly at her.

“Well, my mother used to sing to me a song from an old Disney movie. I never saw it, but the song was still one of my favorites back them.” Hermione said, looking away. “I mean, if you didn't know it that was okay, and you could sing something else.”

“Okay,” Fawkes said. “Which song is it?” Hermione looked down, her cheeks red as she mumbled something. “What was it?”

“Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah,” Hermione said, as if gathering courage. Fawkes could only smile as he remembered the song, and the movie. “It's an older song, so if you didn't know it that's okay, and you could just sing something else if you wanted to.”

“No, I think that song will be just about perfect.” Fawkes said. He began to whistle lightly, getting the song into the air around him. Walking down his garden he let the words flow outward, the magic simply following. “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a. My, oh my, what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine, headin' my way. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a.” He did not look back toward Hermione as he walked, letting his smile grow as he felt something land upon his shoulder. Her giggle was enough for him. “Mister Bluebird's on my shoulders. It's the truth, it's actual. Everything is satisfactual.” He looped toward Hermione, continuing the song. He closed his eyes, not trusting his heart to look at her, and change songs. The bluebird began to whistle with him as he sang, bringing a lighter feel to the song. “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a. Wonderful feeling, wonderful day. Yes, sir” He felt the air around him become lighter, the burden of magic being removed, and almost replaced by good again. “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a. My, oh my, what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine, headin' my way. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a.” The dirt beneath his feet felt lighter, softer if that made sense. “Mister Bluebird's on my shoulders. It's the truth, it's actual. Everything is satisfactual. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a. Wonderful feeling, feeling this way.” His smile grew as he heard Hermione humming like the bees flying beside him did. He laughed lightly, never breaking the music and magic the flowed from him. He walked along, huimming to himself as the bees floated by, and back to their hive. Each would carry a bit of magic with them, cleansing the air and land as they went. He smiled as magic began to work the way it should. To help, not to become. “Mister Bluebird's on my shoulders. It's the truth, it's actual.” He paused, the whistle disappearing for a moment. “Where is that bluebird?” He nearly fell over as the bird popped out from behind him, whistling brightly. He chuckled as Hermione giggled again at the bird. “Everything is satisfactual. Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-a. Wonderful feeling, wonderful.”

The sound of clapping filled his heart more than he thought the music and magic ever could. As the bluebird left his shoulder, he watched the trail of magic follow it, cleansing some of the areas it flew over. “Why, thank you,” Fawkes said turning around. He gave a slight bow to Hermione, causing her to blush.

“I don't think I've every heard something so beautiful before,” Hermione said. There was a dreamy look upon her face, and he felt a sense of something well inside of him because he had put it there.

“I try my best.” The field looked brighter in the sun then it ever had before. His song had carried far beyond the field as well, reaching past his hut and near the school and lake as well.

“Is it alright for me to cast the spell now?” Hermione had her wand drawn, ready for her part.

“Please, be my guest.” Hermione walked over to his side as she stared out across the field. He heard her muttering strings of words, building up her confidence. He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before letting go. Her stance was stronger as she stood, staring out onto the field.

“Fons seges!” Her wand cut across the field horizontally. Fawkes felt the magic ripple outward as a wooden crate appeared, stretching the end of the field on the opposite side. She waved her wand, the water coming out of several holes that lined up with the trenches.

“Now that is amazing,” Fawkes said, kneeling down to touch the water as it reached him. It was cold, but not so cold that it would damage the plants. He was going to use some magic to put a green house like dome around them. Maybe she could help with that, letting him conserve some of his energy for other magical endeavors, like the wards he needed to expand. Or even set up.

“Thank you.” Hermione turned away, the blush on her cheeks definitely not from the wind. “It felt….good to accomplish something like this.”

“I think what you've done for those kids though, is a hundred times better than what you did out here today,” Fawkes said.

“How did you know?” Hermione's eyes grew wide as he smiled at her. “I didn't think anyone knew.”

“Well, know that your work is never disregarded or forgotten,” Fawkes said. There were times when he cursed everything that had happened to him. He cursed how he was older than anyone here, older than maybe the other's parents as well. Today, when he looked down at the smile upon Hermione's face, he knew that hell or high water, he would give up everything for her, or die trying to make her happy again.

-->

Chapter Five: Live This Long

There are more pleasant things to do than beat up people. Muhammad Ali (1942 - )

Hermione could have sat with the rest of the Order in the Great Hall, waiting for the duel between Fawkes and the General. She sat with the children, knowing that they truly did not have to be there, but they all had no choice. The army was forcing everyone to attend, and Hermione could barely handle the thought of watching Fawkes fight, but the children should not have to watch it. Now though, holding onto some of the younger ones as they hugged her tightly, she drew strength from theirs, hoping to lend them some of hers.

The hall had been cleared and the tables pushed to the side. Everyone was held in place by a spell placed by the General. No one could leave, and the army seemed to be happy about that. Hermione shook her head at the cruelty, hugging the children closer.

“General Jacobson has been challenged for leadership,” one of the men said. Hermione never took the time to learn all of their ranks, and quite frankly she felt that the ranks only were good for them to place their ideals above the rest of them. “The challenge shall begin shortly, all are present sir, as requested.”

“Good,” the General approached the center of the room. “I want everyone to understand something. You asked us to be here.” He turned around the room, directing his stares or rather glares to the Order. “This is simply a demonstration of the skill that this army has to offer. You asked for us here to defend you all, which we gladly do.”

“Only at the sacrifice of their freedom,” Fawkes said, entering with a wind. Hermione nearly laughed as Fawkes looked a bit like Snape with his robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore casually floated in behind Fawkes, a grim look upon his face. He floated over toward Hermione, settling behind her. She was worried that the children would be scared of him, yet they paid no attention to Dumbledore, choosing to hold onto her or watch Fawkes.

“That is not how it should viewed,” the General said. “You should understand that all of what we do for you is for the best of the community.”

“I understand helping the community, but what I don't understand is the method,” Fawkes said. “You have agreed, so lets get this over with.” Fawkes removed his duster, showing his flame tattoo.

“Very well,” said one of the men. “The duel is to the last man standing.”

“I can handle that, can you old man?” The General asked. Fawkes grinned as he folded his duster, and walked over to Hermione.

“Could you hold this for me, please?” he asked with a smile. She nodded, blushing under his gaze.

Hermione watched as he walked back to the center of the hall, not fazed by the events of the day so far. She held onto the folded duster and the children, not tearing her eyes away from Fawkes. He stood in defensive stance, ready to dodge the spells the General would fire at him. She felt a fear though, growing in the air at what was to come.

The General began, firing off a stunner toward Fawkes, who stepped back from the spell. The air grew thick with the spell residue as Fawkes continued to dodge all of the spells. He did not fire any spells of his own, rather choosing to move closer and closer, as if to take him out with use of only his hands.

“You thinking about trying to catch me?” the General asked.

“It had crossed my mind,” Fawkes said. He lunged forward, running into a thick shield the General had cast around him. He flew near ten feet backwards before stopping against the ground. The spell lit up the hall as Fawkes stood back on his feet.

“It might be a good idea to start casting spells,” the General offered him as several stunners were released from his wand at once. Fawkes waved his wand, an old stick it looked like older than he did, as a shield of fire absorbed the spells. Hermione smiled slightly as he sent a spell through the General's shields, knocking him down. Quickly, he cast another spell, sticking him to the floor.

“He's down,” Fawkes said. He turned toward the crowd, ready to end the fight. Hermione let out a breath she did not know she was holding.

“Last man standing means alive fool,” the General said. He weaved his wand, dispelling Fawkes's curse. He stood back up, prepared for stronger attacks. “Let's get started.” He sent a volley of curses toward Fawkes. A sick laughter filled the room as they connected with Fawkes's chest. His wand rolled on the floor and into the crowd. Hermione closed her eyes and pulled the children to her tighter as a radiance filled the room. As the roomed dimmed, Hermione turned to look back at Fawkes, his shirt gone as well as parts of his pants.

“Boy, you are making a big mistaking,” Fawkes said. He held his hand out, conjuring his gunblade from the air around him. Smoke emitted from his body as he moved forward, and arc of light following his blade as he swung it. The General deflected it skyward, the light disappearing into the enchanted sky.

“I believe it is you that is making the mistake,” The General said. He fired several more curses at Fawkes, ready to take him by surprise again. Fawkes stopped moving as the spell flew toward him, the smoke beginning to ebb.

This time, the spells hit Fawkes dead on, yet he did not move or burst into flames as before. There were bright burns noticeably on his chest, yet did not move to show the pain from them. Fawkes did not say anything as he looked down at his chest, before glaring at the General.

“I'm surprised your still standing,” The General said. There was a smile upon his face, which only grew as similar spells that he had just cast were fired off. Fawkes, waved his wands forward, as if to clap them. Hermione felt the magic flow around them just as when he sang. By the time the spells had reached him, he had finished bringing his hands together.

Hermione thanked God for Fawkes's gift as half of the spells missed him,only to run into a wall of magic. She knew he was not only fighting for his life now, but theirs as well. “This between you and me,” Fawkes said. His breath was slight haggard as he more red welts appeared across his body. “Leave them out of this.”

“This is a fight between sides,” The General said. “And they have obviously chosen theirs.” Another volley of the curses was sent, but this time Fawkes managed to dodge them. The room began to ignite with fire as more spells hit the wall Fawkes had raised.

A moment of fire had passed as the light died down and Fawkes and the General stood at opposite ends of the room. Fawkes's body once more emitted the smoke, yet he held his head higher than before as the General's spells was beginning to wane. Fawkes had sheathed his gunblade as he relaxed his stance.

“It seems that time is on my side,” Fawkes said. Hermione held back a smile as she feel the magic rippling off of him.

“That may be,” the General said, lowering his wand. He sheathed it as well, staring at Fawkes with his right hand upon his hip. “But there is something to be said about the use of Muggle technology in warfare.” Hermione began to say a silent pray as the General drew something from his waist. There was a bolt of thunder that crashed through the hall as Hermione watched Fawkes crumble to the floor.

“NO!” She screamed, pulling the children to her tighter. The others that realized the damage the small revolver had done had stood up as well, almost shocked at the actions. “Please, don't be...” Her voice trailed off as her tears began to fall.

A collective gasp filled the room as Hermione felt her breath disappear. Fawkes had pushed his body up, sitting upon his knees as blood trailed down his chest along the left side.

“I'll be damned,” the General said as he aimed his weapon at Fawkes once again.

“Yes,” Fawkes said. “You will be.” He took the next shot to his leg, still standing as the pressure seemed to mount in the air. “You think a gunshot wound will take me down?”

“I had thought so,” the General whispered as he raised the gun to fire again. Fawkes in turn raised his own weapon, the gunblade that Hermione had only seen. He rarely swung it and tonight was the first time she had seen him use it. Two shots were fired as Fawkes swung his gunblade. Hermione felt the world around her slow as she clung to the children tighter.

A blade of light seemed to follow the bullet as it left the chamber of Fawkes's. He took the bullet from the General's chest into his own, on the opposite shoulder where the General had drawn first blood. His body shuddered with a bolt of pain so great Hermione felt it within her own shoulder. Hermione vaguely noticed the General, blocking the bullet, yet the blade of light passing through the shield he had erupted. The General crumpled to the floor, grasping at his heart. A man cast a charm, one the told the caster the state of a patient.

“The winner is Fawkes,” a man said. In less than a moment after the declaration, Fawkes fly across the Great Hall to the General's side. Knelling next to him, Fawkes began to rub his hands together, an electric charge snapping the air as he did so. The room grew silent, as Fawkes set to work.

“Clear!” His yell echoed the halls as his hands touched the General's chest. The body leaped in the air as Fawkes seemed to be gathering more electricity. “Clear!” The body jumped again and Fawkes waited, checking his pulse. He leaned back, a small smile on his face as he patted the General's shoulder. “You owe me, you son-of-a-bitch.” He fell backward, collapsing in an awkward position as the rest of the hall began to talk in soft, worried voices.

“Will he be?” Hermione asked the Headmaster.

“I do believe that he will need a Healer,” Dumbledore said, “And he may take requests.” There was a slight twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, proving his words stronger in Hermione's mind.

“Hermione, we'll watch the children,” McGonagall said as she and Tonks came over to her side. She gave them a small smile before beginning the task of forcing her way through the crowd. She could make out a group of red heads near Fawkes, as well as Lupin trying to help him sit up.

“Hermione,” Lupin said, giving her a sad smile. “You might want to get started soon.”

“Why, what can she do?” Ginny asked. Hermione ignored her as she knelt next to Fawkes motionless body. She vanished the bullets, leaving only the holes that had begun to close up on their own, with a bit of the same smoke she had seen earlier coming from his body.

“She can be the one to apply the salve to my aching joints,” Fawkes muttered. People shifted away from them as he tried to sit up. “While you get the privelage of cleaning the potions cabinets for that lovely comment of yours.”

“Relax, Fawkes,” Hermione said. “You either need to get some sleep to rest this off or let me treat you, the choice is yours.” Fawkes gave her a smile as he sat up even further.

“If you can help me get to my bed, I'll make sure that I sleep,” Fawkes said. He gave her a ragged smile as he spoke. Hermione shook her head, but returned the smile. He hid his pain so well, yet it was not gone.

“Fawkes.” The crowd parted to show the General being held up by two of his soldiers. “You fought well.”

“And you died,” Fawkes said. Hermione held onto Fawkes hand, knowing how close he had come to passing on as well.

“That I did, that I did,” the General said with a smile. “Yet you let me live.”

“I did,” Fawkes said. He cocked his head, much like a bird would as he stared at the General. “You will follow me now?”

“Yes, our services are yours,” the General said.

“Good. Good....” His voice trailed off as he laid back down. “Now get the hell out of my castle. Build your own barracks, I don't care what you do, but you have until tomorrow morning, otherwise your services are useless to me.”

“Yes Sir,” the General saluted him, to which Fawkes gave him his own salute of the bird. The general laughed as he left, and Hermione was grateful that they were gone, at least for now.

“Fawkes, you going to be okay?” Lupin asked him.

“I told you what I needed, so give it to me, and I will be,” Fawkes said. “I want everyone to move out as planned. Continue on until your directives change. You, are going to help me get to my little home away from home.”

“Me?” Lupin asked, to which Fawkes shook his head.

“No.”

“Would you like me to assist you, Fawkes?” McGonagall asked. Again he shook his head. His smile seemed to grow as he squeezed Hermione's hand. She blushed when she realized he was still holding it, and cursed her body because he was old enough to be her grandfather, and that she still felt something strong for him.

“Process of elimination leaves me,” Hermione said. He nodded his head slightly, the smile fading lightly. “You'll have to get up on your own. I'm not carrying you there.”

“Fawkes,” the sound of the dull limp hitting the ground caused his eyes to open as Mad-eye Moody stepped toward the circle. “We have things to discuss.”

“Aye, Alastor, that we do,” Fawkes said. “Tomorrow.”

“Aye, tomorrow,” Mad-eye said as he awkwardly knelt and placed the wand next to Fawkes. Mad-eye left through the same hole he had created when he came, the crowd scared by him.

“Oh, I can get there on my own,” Fawkes said. “Just hold on for the ride, and there you can do a complete physical.”

“How are you going to-” Her sentence was cut short as she felt the tight tug of a portkey yet the squeezing sensation of apparating. “-that?”

They were now in his hut, with him on his bed. “It pays to be a phoenix.” He said, though his laughter turned into a violent cough. Hermione used her sleeve to clean away the blood.

“Why did you do that, take those bullets?” Hermione asked, casting a spell over him again. There was a great deal of internal bleeding and bruises, probably from all of those curses he took.

“They would've have passed through the shield I had put up,” Fawkes said. “I couldn't take the chance of it hitting someone. Besides, I've got you to fix this problem.”

“Well, what made you think I can fix this?” Hermione said, though she just smiled at him. Both of them knew she could, though how he knew was beyond her.

He gave her another smile as he visible relaxed. She had cast a slight slumber spell on him, letting his day end earlier than he had probably had planned. Yet he needed his sleep, despite being a phoenix and all.

“You did well today,” Hermione whispered to him as she left. She closed the door softly as she headed toward the castle. Already she could see the men in the army were building a barracks outside. She knew they were men of honor above all else and that their hearts were in the right place. Now at least.

“Where did you take Fawkes?” Mrs. Weasley demanded once Hermione had returned to the Great Hall. Dinner had just started, with the hall returning to what it was. She was going to help the children move up to the Gryffindor tower after dinner, and gave them smiles as she sat down.

“Where he needed to be,” Hermione said with a smile. She began to serve herself some food, knowing that she had gotten her angry, but that didn't matter. Not right now.

“He was needed here,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“No, he needed rest, and as the Healer for this school, that is what he is getting,” Hermione said, not looking at the matriarch.

“Hermione, just tell my mother where she is, all we want to do is help,” Ginny said.

“He is safe, that is all that you need to know,” Hermione said. “He trusted me.”

“Mum, I suggest you leave it as it is,” Ron said, sitting down across from Hermione. “Fawkes can take care of himself, and if not, Hermione knows what she is doing. How you feeling?” He began to serve himself a larger portion of the food than she had seen him eat in a long time.

“Pretty good,” Hermione said. The fear she had only a week before was still there, but the fight against it was so much stronger, she had no words for it. “I'm just happy.”

“Its been quite a while since I saw you smile, I just had to ask,” Ron said, returning her smile. “I've been looking through some of the books, and found these enchantments called endowments, you might want to take a look at them. They aren't something I think we can use, but Voldemort might.”

“What are they?” Hermione asked, her voice softer as she wanted to conceal her words.

“They almost gifts of certain things, like strength, wisdom, or even speed, from one person to another. That's about all I understand right now,” Ron said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “They are done with runes, so I thought you might know something about them.”

“There were rumors in a lot of the books I've read about something like that, runes on the flesh,” Hermione said. She shook her head, horrified by the lengths someone would go to for their own benefit. The books were said that the runes would leave a person without that gift, not dead, but barely living. The thought chilled her to the bone.

“Hermione,” Ron asked, after a moment of silence had lapsed between them.

“Yes Ron?”

“Do you think, that Harry will ever come back?” Ron looked at her, praying for an answer that would lighten his own heart. Hermione felt the tears come to her eyes as he had voiced the fear within them both, a fear they did not want to believe, or acknowledge.

“I don't know, I really don't know,” Hermione said. She wiped away the tears, as Ron reached out for her hand, giving her the comfort he could, while still holding up his own walls.

“Of course he will,” Ginny interrupted. “I mean, why wouldn't he come back for me?”

“Because you're a selfish whinny little girl,” Ron muttered, holding onto still holding onto Hermione's hand. She giggled lightly, the fight growing within her, but stopped under Ginny's glare. The fight was whithering again, though she did not know how it grew stronger, or weakened, she knew she was getting afraid again.

“Ronald, enough of that,” Mrs. Weasley scolded him, yet did not say anything to Ginny. Hermione caught the triumphant smile on her face, yet did not know what she was so happy about. Harry wasn't here, what reason was there to be happy?

I0I

The weekend had come quickly, and for Fawkes it was took quick. There was so much work to be done, he was almost begging for the Time-Turner again, just to make sure everything was prepared. He knew there was going to be trouble with his Potions Master, yet it was necessary, he was necessary. The wards were going to be increased on Sunday, and so was the arrival of his Potions Master. He had one more day to get everything set for the hell that would come with him. None of it his fault though.

Fawkes shook his head as he walked the halls of Hogwarts. The school had already begun to gain a bit of normalcy with the help that McGonagall, Flitwick, Moony and Tonks had done. They were slowly making their way through the castle, fixing everything and anything. Hell, even the portraits were returning to their state of annoyance as they were getting fixed. There was still miles of work to be done, yet he could not help but feel a burst of wonder at the fours work.

The army had moved out of the castle, much to his delight and were not beginning to aid in the cleansing of the grounds. While Hermione had rightly noted it was not as effective as his work, there was more important things that needed to be done. Like extending the wards, for example.

The group he had assigned, Neville, Mad-eye, the Twins, and Charlie, had found him several plausible spells, yet none of them could get them as extensive as Fawkes had wanted them. In the end, he had cast the spells, and spent the rest of the day in bed, on Hermione's orders. Not that he needed it after the first hour, but even at the age he was, she still was brilliantly scary.

Now though, he felt an energy within him that he had not felt in a long time. Magic was a part of him, yet it did not dominate his life. If something could be moved by hand, he did. He had worked too long to get his body the way it was; he was not about to let something like magic take it away from him, like magic had taken just about everything else. He had managed to get a work out regime from the army they had, and was working with them in the mornings. Heck, he was even able to drag some of the other guys out there, mainly Ron, Neville and the Twins. They had started working with him midway through the week.

But today, today was something that he loved to do ever since he had become a doctor. Meet the parents, so to speak of course. He knocked on the door, a smile growing on his face.

“Come in,” a soft voice said. Fawkes entered with a smile, caring his bag. He had shrunk it in his saddlebags, not knowing if he would need it again, but he was glad he had kept it.

“Why, this must be the happy parents?” Fawkes said, entering into the room. It had the feminine touch of Fleur that he had pictured she would give to any room. Despite the castle walls, Fleur had managed to bring a strong sense of warmth to the room with her decorations. He gave her a smile as she resting on a comfortable love-seat, her hands on her stomach, holding her unborn child. “How are you two doing?”

“Bezidez zore, wonderful now that you two are ere,” Fleur said, smiling at him. He returned the smile as he noticed Hermione walk over from talking to Bill.

“Well, I'm just glad that I can help,” Fawkes said, placing his bag down on a table. “Hermione, would it be possible if you could run a general diagnostics on Fleur, just for a basic check up?”

“You want me to?” Hermione asked, surprised it seemed. He just smiled as he began to remove some herbs and some of his tools, a stethoscope, thermometer, small reflex hammer, and a old fashioned blood pressure monitor. He had already sterilized his tools and began to prepare the herbs.

“Bill, could you get me a cup of warm water please?” Fawkes asked.

“What for?” Bill asked, but did as he was told. Fawkes placed the herbs into the warm water, letting them soak for a moment as Hermione finished up. The smell began to fill the room, and the questioning looks on the others faces told him enough

“Everything is fine,” Hermione said. She and Fleur looked like they were talking about something, which Fawkes guessed was probably the same question that Bill had.

“The tea is meant to help relax you and the child,” Fawkes said. “I learned a thing or two while living in some of the 'less civilized' parts of the world.” He gave them another smile as he held out the glass of tea. “Its basic orange tea with a splash of ginger and honey. Don't worry, the baby will enjoy it, stimulates both of you a little.”

“What are you going to do?” Bill asked.

“Just seeing how the baby is,” Fawkes said. “A skill I learned from an Aborgini tribe, that they can determine the health of the baby, just by the movement of it in the mother's stomach.”

“Do I need to get undrezzed?” Fleur asked, blushing lightly. Fawkes shook his head, his smile still in place. The interactions of the Weasleys only made his smile larger, realizing the hope about to brought into the world.

“No, but if it would be alright with you, could you please lift your blouse over your stomach?” Fawkes asked, taking the stethoscope. He blew some air onto it, warming it up. “This might still be a little cold.” He felt her shiver as he placed the metal head onto her stomach, listening to the tiny heartbeat inside. He looked up at Fleur, questioning, “may I?” She nodded as he placed his hands upon her stomach.

Like a hundred times before, he felt the child move toward the warmth of his hand, kicking Fleur slightly. She giggled and he looked up, smiling before moving his hand across her stomach, the child moving along with him. When he reached the other side, he placed his other hand on the opposite side of her stomach, letting his magic link between the two of them. “Ah.” He found a slight problem that shouldn't have been there. Something that would go undetected by anything, including the scrutiny of the spells Hermione had cast.

“Fawkes, what are you doing?” Bill asked as Fawkes's hands began to glow lightly. His magic began to entwine with the child, trying to fix the problem.

“I'm going to need you to sit behind your wife, Bill,” Fawkes said, as he began to concentrate on the problem at hand. There was a larger problem at hand.

“Why?” Bill asked, but doing as he was told. Fleur moved forward and Bill moved behind her, letting her rest against him. She looked more comfortable, and calmer with him there now, only adding to Fawkes's fight.

Fawkes raised his gaze, his magic still trying to fix the problem. There was a darkness in a child of innocence that should not be there. He recognized the Veela of Fleur and the human of Bill, yet there was a third part, the looked almost like a curse. He did not know the curse's origin, yet he knew the damage that could be done to her and the child if left unchecked.

“I want you to feel this,” Fawkes said. He gave them both a comforting smile, as he felt the curse dimming. There was only so long that a curse could last in the presence of the light. “Fleur place your hands over mine.” He began to end his magical battle. “Bill now place your hands over hers, good, good.” He said, smiling to them. “Now I'm going to remove my hands, but I don't want you to. I'm slipping mine out so you can hold your child in your magic.” With a quick touch to their entwined magic, Fawkes removed his own magic, letting the child draw his way to that of his parents. The smiles on their faces was his answer as to his method. He took at step back, smiling at them.

“Thank you,” Fleur said. Tears were welling in her eyes as she spoke and Bill wiped them away. “Is our child going to be okay?”

“More than okay,” Fawkes said. “Right now, your child is in the safest possible place in the world.” He stood back, as he removed several more herbs from his bag and replaced his tools.

“When is the due date supposed to be, Hermione?” Fawkes asked, closing his bag.

“Within the next month, October 1^st,” Hermione said.

“We'll meet again, say on the 20^th,” Fawkes said. “Just for another checkup. Now, drink plenty of tea, did you like the one I had made?” Fleur nodded, still holding onto her stomach and Bill's hands. “Well, I left some more things to make a larger pot for yourself. One equal part of each should do fine, then just add the honey as necessary. If you start to feel an upset stomach, do not drink any more of the tea, it might be too strong. Contact either Hermione or I and we'll find something. Is that okay?” Both of them nodded, more relaxed than they had been when Fawkes had entered.

“If there is anything you need from us, just ask,” Bill said, moving to stand up.

“Stay, its okay,” Fawkes said, shaking the man's hand. “And I just went off of what the Healer told me.” He motioned toward Hermione, causing her to blush.

“I just did what any Healer did,” Hermione said, looking away.

“Well, keep it up,” Fawkes said. “Have a good day and take care.” Fawkes said, shaking Bill's hand once more and kissing Fleur's check. He gave Hermione a smile as he left, knowing she was going to stay a while longer.

He left without another word, banishing his bag back to his hut. He had wanted to head over to the Potions lab that he had set up for Ginny to use. She had begun replenishing the basic healing potions, and did not know of his checking of them. More importantly, he had not found any tampering to the healing potions, however, there was a different potion ingredients missing, enough for a dampening potion.

“Hello, Ginny,” Fawkes said as he leaned against the door frame. He smirked as she jumped into the air, nearly spilling the contents of her cauldron. The smell was not that of a healing potion, nor did he wish to believe what he already knew to be true. “How are the potions coming?”

“Well, I'm almost finished with the blood replenishing ones before I start are the Pepper-Up potions,” Ginny said, trying to hide the contents of her cauldron from him.

“Really, may I take a look?” Fawkes said. He entered before she could give him a response, standing next to her as he gazed into the black mess that was in the cauldron. “My, my, my, like a spider to a fly. What do we have here?”

“Its nothing, a side project really,” Ginny said, trying to push Fawkes away.

“Care to explain to me about it? I mean, I'm not a potion expert, but I know what I assigned you to do, and that's not it,” Fawkes said. He was not a liar by nature, by there were times he found his ability to lie proved an asset.

“Like I said, that's just a side project,” Ginny said. Her voice was nervous, filled fear from the knowledge of her being caught. It was a natural fear, not the same as the one that had filled Hermione's voice less than a week ago.

“What for?” Fawkes said, putting his hand closer to the potion. He felt the potion drawing his magic from him, almost like it was taking it away.

“My...my mother asked for, said she needed it,” Ginny said. He looked over at her, staring into her eyes. There was a lie there, but where? Fawkes nodded, looking into the potion.

“If your mother needed something, you should have checked with me first,” Fawkes said. “A responsible Potions Master would have done that.” He picked up a tail of a newt and dropped it into cauldron. Immediately is began to change color until it was almost white. “That should make it a base for a household potion.”

“Yes, I was just about add that,” Ginny said. She was still nervous about something, and at least now he had an idea of where to prevent it at the source.

“Well, see that your mother gets that, and it should fix whatever the problem is,” Fawkes said with a smile. He had neutralized whatever the potion's original intent was, but that did not mean she wasn't going to try again. “And please do be careful with our rations, my Potions Master is returning soon, I do not want him to be under prepared.” He left her, silently locking the potions cabinet as he went. Not that he used his wand.

He head toward the Great Hall, knowing that dinner was beginning as he walked. He wanted to sit with the children again, like he had the last few nights. It was more than just the atmosphere that they created, they made him feel young again. He laughed aloud, causing many of the portraits to look at him as he walked. Fawkes had never thought him one to be sentimental.

Age does that to you, or is it just hardship?

Fawkes entered the Great Hall without fanfare, knowing that he presence was probably already felt by the children. They had come rushing up to him, begging to hear another story from him. He gave them a smile as he sat down at the table, letting the crowd around him. These were the days that he fought for, and the smile that was Hermione's face as he told them another story was the one he wanted to win.

Yet I am still seventy years her senior.

He let out a sigh as he went back to his meal, sharing the laughter with the children. He did not feel that old, far from it. But reality was not something he could change and the reality of it was that he was reaching his mid-eighties.

“Fawkes?” Angela asked. He gave her a smile, causing her to blush. Sh was no more than eight years old, an orphan like the rest of the children at Hogwarts. “What's hope?”

“Hope, you want to know what hope is......hmmm....” Fawkes said. He lifted her to sit on his knee, gathering the attention of the children. He did not have a good way to describe an abstract idea to them, but he was going to take a shot. “Well, want do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A mommy,” Angela said with a giggle and smile. He returned the smile before turning to Nicholas next to him. “And you, what about you?”

“I wanna fly,” he said, making the airplane noise as he pretended to fly. One by the one the children all told him what they wanted to be when they “grew up.”

“What do you want to be?” Angela asked finally.

“I want to be free,” he said with a smile. She gave him a puzzled look as he began to speak again. “We all have our dreams right, to be mothers, doctors, fire fighters, soldiers, fliers and pilots, and a hundred more things that we could ever dream of. Now do you know what dreams feed upon?”

“They eat?” Argus said. The questioning look on his face matched the half dozen around him.

“Of course they do,” Fawkes said, smiling. “Now, hope is a basic part of their meal. They need it every day, otherwise the dreams die.”

“So, our dreams eat hope?” Angela asked.

“Kinda, see, hope is a part of your, and your hope is what feeds them, giving them new ideas, which is really their food, and the more your hope gives to your dreams, the more you know they will come true.”

“So you mean I can become a mommy?” Angela said. There was a brightness in all of their eyes now, one that he knew was not there before. There were murmurs around them all and Fawkes chuckled lightly as he nodded.

“But you do have to eat right, which means finishing what's on your plates and all of the vegetables,” Fawkes said, a sternness in his eyes as he spoke. They all made faces at what was on their plates, especially the boys. He chuckled lightly again as he placed Angela back down on the bench, letting her finish her dinner.

“Are you going to eat all of your vegetables?” The voice of an angel said. He turned and smile at Hermione.

“Why, you think I'd say one thing and mean the other?” Fawkes said, acting affronted. He had already eaten most of them, and quickly finished them off.

“Aunt Mi,” a chorus of voices cried as Hermione sat down next to him. Normal, he sat down after her, letting the Hall get comfortable first before he entered. Today though, she must have stayed a lot longer with the expecting parents. He raised an eyebrow at the name, causing her to blush.

“They can't say Hermione,” she said, turning away from his gaze.

“Well, call me Uncle Fawkes,” he said with a laugh. They all nodded, repeating in a loud chorus his name. He finished off the rest of his plate, smiling at the stories he heard being said across the table.

“They need a school teacher,” he whispered to Hermione as she ate. “They need to be normal children.”

“Who do you suggest? I mean, we're expanding the wards around Hogwarts already,” Hermione said. “Do mean to add to the school?” Fawkes shrugged his shoulders. He was planning on adding to the wards anyway, why not make the school bigger, bringing Hogsmeade into the wards.

“Would it be a bad idea?” Fawkes asked.

“No, its just, never been done before,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “The magic needed to expand the wards is extraordinary. That's why there were four wizards that lay down the wards in the first place.” He nodded his head.

“It was just a thought.”

“And a good thought,” she said. “But we just don't have the power to do it, otherwise it would have been done by now.” He nodded his head, lost in thought. He could do it, well enough of it, but if Hermione, Ron and he did, would that be enough power?”

“But they still need someone to teach them the basics, like reading, writing and arithmetic,” Fawkes said.

“Maybe one of the Order will be willing to work with them,” Hermione said. “I mean, in our spare time of course.”

“There is more than enough spare time to go around,” Fawkes said with a laugh. “And I'm not going to force anyone to do this, it's just a thought.” He stood up from the, but not before looking at the smile on Hermione's face. “Now children, make sure she eats all of her vegetables, she has a very bad habit of leaving before she's done.”

“Yes Uncle Fawkes,” another chorus of children said. Hermione glared at him as they all began to watch her, making sure she cleared her plate.

He left with a laugh, heading back to his hut. He had only a little more work on his garden for the day, then he could rest. It was at the garden that he always ended his day, checking the plants and their growth. A relaxing end to the day was a few of the things he had kept from the monastery, from the years that still plagued him.

“Much has been accomplished,” Dumbledore said as Fawkes leaned back. He had been on his knees, pulling a few weeds from the garden.

“Yeah, though we still have far to go,” Fawkes said. The Headmaster had been disappearing at times, though Fawkes knew where he was going. The draw to the afterlife was stronger now, his time was coming to a close. “You'll be leaving?”

“Soon,” Dumbledore said. “Are you ready? Are they ready?” Fawkes looked back at the second question, staring at his mentor.

“No, far from it,” Fawkes said. “And that would have to be the scariest thought. That I'm going to be starting something, that I don't know I can finish.”

“Such is the price we pay,” Dumbledore said. “The men who commit these crimes believe that they are infallible, yet we believe that we know that we will fail.”

“Failure is a great motivator,” Fawkes said. A moment of silence passed between them as the sunset. These were the times he loved the most, knowing that he could relax and be normal, yet he knew they would end. They always did.

“Albus, do you think I'm doing the right thing?” Fawkes said, standing up from his knees. He wiped them as best as he could, trying to get circulation back into them. “Not telling them who I am, I mean.”

“You believe they would not trust you if they knew the truth?” Dumbledore asked. Fawkes nodded, both of them knew the questions were unnecessary, yet Fawkes needed to hear the words

“I ran from who I was and hid, for lack of a better term,” Fawkes said with a shrug.

“I believe in time you will learn that your mistake, was not your own, rather a calculation on someone else's part,” Dumbledore said. Fawkes stared at Dumbledore as he looked out across the fields of Hogwarts to the lake and his grave.

“Voldemort?” Fawkes asked. Dumbledore shook his head, still looking over the lake.

“No, I believe it was the fault of someone else, someone closer to you, Fawkes,” Dumbledore said. There was grave pause, as Fawkes thought over the people who knew that he had the Time Turner.

“It was not you, was it?” Fawkes said. Another grave pause, as Fawkes let his words sink in.

“I'm afraid that the Time Turner that I left had been tampered with, yet there was no way of you knowing that,” Dumbledore said. Fawkes stepped in front of the Headmaster, staring into his eyes.

The ghostly visage of the Headmaster was more prominent then ever. The blue glow was dull, and the Headmaster looked as sickly as he did upon his death. Yet it was in the eyes that Fawkes saw the truth. The Headmaster did not tamper with the Time Turner, yet someone close to him, yet closer to Harry had tampered with it.

“Sir, when was the last time that you had used it?” Fawkes asked. They were about the same height, yet he still felt like he was a child again, talking up to the tall Headmaster.

“Your first year here,” Dumbledore said. “I had visited some people on the continent, and wished to remain at the school as well. I had used it to my advantage, allowing me to remain there.” Fawkes nodded, understanding the need of extra time.

“It seems, Albus, that Quirrel may have done it while you were gone,” Fawkes said. “Or anyone else that had access to your office.” The silence between said more than their words could, the unspoken agreement that time had placed already between them.

“Do you trust them?”Dumbledore asked. Another pause between them. There were no words that he could find to express want he wanted to say. He looked at Dumbledore and walked away, knowing that there may never be words.

He trusted them, just not as much as he could, or rather should.

-->

Chapter Six: The Horrible Truths

At times ones remains faithful to a cause only because its opponents do not cease to be insipid. Friedrich Nietzsche

Fawkes stared at the people who sat around him. He had been doing so for the last five minutes. He had felt it when his Potions Master had crossed wards and he was now on the way to their meeting room. He had wanted to talk to the man before, but there was a delay.

“What are we waiting for?” Ginny asked. He stared at her, before shaking his head. The Potions Master was turning the last corner, and Fawkes knew he would have to defend him as he entered.

“Me, my child,” a man said as he entered. Immediately, all the wands were out, pointing toward Snape as he stood in the doorway. Half of them fired spells, only to have them absorbed by a shield Fawkes had placed.

“You fire upon him again, and you will be removed from the Order.”

“Fawkes, this man killed Dumbledore,” Moody said, both his eyes upon the man behind him.

“And yet I'm telling you to drop it,” Fawkes said. He left his magic flow outward, letting them all feel the power he held back. As if one, they sat, yet their wands remained trained upon Snape. “Am I the leader of this Order?”

“But he's Snivellus!” Remus growled.

“I SAID” his voice echoing the room, “am I the leader of the Order?!” He paused as his words rang through the room again. “You asked me to help you, and then you question my help?” There was a moment of silence that passed again, this time though, the air was thick with tension.

“Fawkes, why did you bring him here?” Hermione finally asked. Fawkes looked over at her, slightly surprised that she was the one to ask the question. He had thought they all would be too angry to even contemplate what he was going for tonight.

“You all going to be mature adults here?” Fawkes said. He did not care for their answers, all he knew was that Hermione would at least listen. That was enough for him.

“Severus is here because of his dedication to the right cause, my cause,” Fawkes said. “Just as you are dedicated to my cause, he has proven his worth.”

“How?” Moody asked.

“Did I ask you how you proved your worth to Albus?” Fawkes looked over around the room, not sure what they were asking for, yet he knew there was doubt. Seeded. Doubt that would grow as they found more truths out.

“Please, Fawkes, why won't you tell us?” Hermione asked.

“Because I had asked him not to,” Snape said. “But if you insist, I will tell you.”

“What makes you think that we will believe you in the first place?” Mrs. Weasley glared at both Fawkes and Snape.

“It does not matter,” Snape said. “What matters is that it will involve the one man that you believe abandoned you.”

“Harry,” Hermione whispered. She grabbed Fawkes hand and held it, looking over at him as if to ask a question.

“I was there the night that harry disappeared,” Snape said. “He had made contact with me once before, when I had saved his life.”

“You're a goddamn liar,” Ron said standing up from his chair. “You would have never saved his life. You killed Dumbledore!”

“On my orders,” Dumbledore said. He floated in through the door, resting alongside Fawkes's chair. He no longer had an earthly glow to his features, the pull of death stronger. His time was short. “The potion I had drunk would have put me through an endless pain, one that there was no cure for. I would have needed that spell for my release one way or the other. Severus kept his cover with my death, if but for a few short months.”

“None of you would have believed him had he returned alone,” Fawkes said.

“Yes, Mister Potter was searching for what he needed to find, the power he knows not,” Snape said. Fawkes smirked lightly as he watched Ron and Hermione share looks at the mention of the prophecy. “He had found it, as he had told me before we were attacked.”

“Why did he believe you? Why didn't either of you do anything to save him?” Ron asked.

“It was my hand that stayed Snape's hand from saving Harry a second time,” Fawkes said. The pause assured him that he had their attention. “Harry was traveling a bit, trying to find the power he knows not. He had been using a time turner to get a little extra time here and there, to let him enjoy a bit of vacation and fact finding mission.”
“What was he looking for, besides the power he know not?” Hermione asked.

“He was looking for different magics to teach you, or try to at least,” Fawkes said.

“Potter was attacked on his return trip here, at Godric's Hollow,” Snape said. The focus was back on him, and Fawkes was greatly for it as that drew Hermione's gaze off of him. “It seems that he had found a bit of what he needed to know, and was planning on returning that weekend to Hogwarts.”

“I remember that weekend, it started the raids on England,” Mr. Weasley commented. “We barely got out of the Burrow in time.”

“Aye,” Moody said. “Lost a great many, but so did their side.”

“That they did,” Snape said. “Potter had managed to nearly take the town back from all of the attacking Death Eaters, yet he still wore his time turner around his neck. During the fight, the time turner was damaged and began to leak out the tachyon particles, the sand in the hourglass. By the time that Fawkes had arrived, it was too late, with a single turn, Potter had turned himself back into the past.”

“How far?” Ron asked. Fawkes turned to look at him, yet he felt Hermione's gaze upon him. He knew she was figuring it out, bit by bit, or at least most of it.

“I do not know,” Snape said. “But it was far enough to effect his age, and possible his memory. There hasn't been a documented case of a leaking Time turner and someone successful returning to their time to date.”

“How is it that we can't find him now then?” Mr. Weasley said. There was a general consensus about the statement, one that Fawkes was glad he did not have to answer. Yet.

“If Harry was as smart as he showed in class, he would have changed his name to protect his own sanity as well as the time stream,” McGonagall commented. “They are basic instructions one is given when issued a Time Turner.”

“Completely understandable,” Fawkes said. “Now, if you would please, Severus, take a seat.” The table expanded as Fawkes waved his hand, in the direction next to McGonagall. Before Snape could move toward the chair however, Fawkes stood from his chair. He felt a surge of energy, ripple through his body and his head began to pound with pain. “Shit.” He took off running, vaguely hearing the people behind him as he ran toward the fields that surrounded Hogwarts. Someone he didn't want to was crossing the wards.

“What's....wrong....?” Ron asked, panting. Fawkes turned to see the Order standing behind him, their faces covered with a combination of confusion and weariness.

“Shit,” Fawkes said again. He felt the sharp sting of slap up against the back of his head. “Hey!” He turned to look at Hermione who glared at him.

“Don't swear,” she said with such a stern look at that he could only nod. “Now what is the problem?”

“Someone is getting through the wards,” Fawkes said, turning back to look over toward the Forbidden Forest. He felt the dark presence creeping forward, taking away the pure air that he had restored.

“I thought you had put up all of them?” Mrs. Weasley asked. Fawkes turned to look at her, surprised at how out of breath she was.

“We have only managed the Anti-Apparation as well as the notifying ward that Fawkes laid down,” Moody said. He limped toward Fawkes, both eyes trained on him in a similar fashion as they were when Snape entered. “What do we do now?”

“We prepare for the fight,” Fawkes said, turning his back to the forest. “Notify the army that they are the last defense against this threat.” He began to walk toward the school again, thinking of anything and everything that could be helpful. He stopped moving, at the entrance. Fawkes knew of only one man that had a stronger strategic mind than his had become, and would surpass him within a decade. “Ron, what do you think we should do?”

“Me?” Ron asked. Fawkes smirked at his surprise.

“Yes you, what do you believe we should do?” Fawkes asked. “I need to be out there, because that is who I am. And I need you to tell me my strategically position and where to go from there. And I need you,” he turned toward Hermione, “to tell us how to do.” He walked past the stunned group, tossing a glance over his shoulder. “You have ten minutes, Ron, use it well.”

Fawkes walked toward his hut, mentally preparing his body for the task at hand. While he had been working out, it was not the same to use those instincts in battle. It had been a long time since he was called a hero, and even longer since he had considered himself a warrior. Tonight he was becoming both again.

He entered his hut, gathering his gunblade, his fedora, and his duster. None but the gunblade were necessary, however, it added to the image that he had presented as he walked into the school the first time in five years.

“What's the plan?” Fawkes asked as he walked back toward the group. It appeared that none of them had moved in the ten minutes he had allotted, yet he could tell who the fighters and those who needed to stay back were.

“We need two teams ready to take out the threat, whatever it is,” Ron said. He had appeared to be in deep thought, to which Fawkes only nodded. “I want one team to stay behind to help with any healing that we may need when we return as well as provide cover fire. The other team will intercept the threat and attempt to eliminate with the assistance of army to prevent the retreat of the threat.”

“Have you decided who is on which team, or would you rather me do that?” Fawkes said. Ron motioned to let him decided. “Very well, McGonagall, Mr and Mrs. Weasley, Flitwick, Charlie, and Ginny. You will stay behind and proved cover fire. You are to not let a single person through unless you can identify them. Severus, I want you to begin to prepare any and all of the healing potions that you have. Hermione will return as soon as she can.”

“I will?” Hermione asked. She had disappeared and reappeared, dressed in a loose fit outfit, tied off at the waist. Much like a karate uniform.

“Yes, you will be the medical unit on the field, Ron, you will be here cover,” Fawkes said. “Moody and Neville, I want you to take the left side. Twins, I want you to take the right. Ron and Hermione, follow my up the middle, and cover everyone's backs.” Fawkes turned back toward the fields, staring across it as he felt the darkness grow.

“Why aren't I out there?” Ginny asked.

“Because I don't trust you enough with the lives of others,” Fawkes said. He knew that there would anger, but it was no longer his problem. There was something more important to deal with at the moment.

“You heard him,” Moody said, pushing his way off to the left. He had grabbed Neville by the shoulder, dragging him off. He nodded toward the twins as they head off to the right.

“Lets go,” Fawkes said. He knew they were following him as he began a soft jog. He could see the wizards and inferi meshed together. Or rather the wizards turned into inferi. It must have taken a long time for Riddle to amass such an army. Must have been his reason for the five year hiatus.

“Figures,” he muttered to himself. “Be ready.”

“For what?” Ron asked. He looked toward Hermione who rolled her eyes before giving Fawkes a look.

Yep, I'm in trouble.

“That!” He raised his gunblade and pulled the trigger, destroying the first of the mob of inferi coming over the hills. Immediately, he felt the magical release from his friends. He heard the spells of the others across the field. He needed to buy them time.

“Ron, I need you to protect Hermione,” Fawkes said. “I'm about to do something incredible stupid with little to no forethought.”

“You are not leaving me,” Hermione said. She grabbed his arm, forcing the point across.

“Who said anything about leaving you?” Fawkes asked. He fired another shot before swing across his gunblade, cutting several Inferi in half. “I need to make sure that you are safe.”

“Why?” Hermione said, wildly casting reducto. Neither ducked at the explosion of dirt and dead bodies. Fawkes glared back at her, knowing her mind was figuring it out, yet her heart wouldn't let her see it. Yet.

“Because it was the one thing that kept me going,” Fawkes said. This time, Hermione did not stop him as he tore into inferi. He felt the spells going past him as he dodged the explosions. He knew they were too close for comfort and from Hermione, yet that did not matter to him.

Once he felt he was being surrounded by them, when he knew he was far enough in. He pushed off on the ground, his wings nearly destroying his duster as he took flight. The waves upon waves of inferi seemed to be concentrating on him, which was how he wanted it. They began to climb one another to get to him as he flapped his wings, the flames dissipating as they fell off. All it took was two fluid movements, an X of flames in the sky. He pushed outward with his magic, the flames growing in strength and heat as they fell toward the ground. There were no screams as the flames hit the ground, and while it was not as effective as some of the other spells he knew, the effect was obvious.

The ground itself was cut into, filled with the flames as if they were forcing themselves to the center of the earth. He had split the forces of inferi, mindless zombies. Yet if there wizards they could figure out enough to order them. He flew back to the ground where Hermione and Ron were fighting, letting his wings fold up behind him. The air was colder, and he felt a shiver run up his spine. Though whether it was because it was colder, or because of Hermione's glare, he chose to ignore it.

“We've got this group here, lets deal with them and see where we go from there,” Fawkes said. He leaned against his gunblade, slightly out of breath. It had really been a long time since he had used that much magic, in that combination.

“You okay?” Hermione asked. Ron continued to give them cover fire as the intelligence behind the Inferi changed the tactics. Fawkes looked up at the Inferi, and even the ones he had taken out seemed to be getting up.

“We need to get to their controllers,” Fawkes said, pushing his body up. He steadied himself with his gunblade, catching Hermione wanting to help him. He was glad she didn't, as he was not sure what she was going to when she figured out the truth she was already close to finding. Ron had nodded, taking off toward the Inferi which seemed to give way to wizards. “Go on, I can handle myself, make sure Ron is okay.”

“You sure?” Hermione said. Her wand was ready to cast something on him, and he just smiled.

“I know you'll make sure I'm alright after this, so go make sure he'll make it out of there alive.” Fawkes said. “You watched my back enough, its time for me to watch yours.” Hermione looked at him again, then out to where Ron was fighting forward. “Please, trust me.” Her eyes turned back to his before nodding, a small smile and blush upon her cheeks. She had rushed off to help Ron before he could question the blush. Much to both his pleasure and pain.

He felt the taint in the air growing harsher as he fought after them, taking care of the crowd that tried to surround them. He knew the wizards were just on the other side of the hill, which Ron and Hermione stood upon now, defending from all sides. Their magic rippled with light as he felt the darkness threaten them. They were strong, just not strong enough. The majority of the Inferi were following him now as he made his way up the hill. They were no longer trying to come through the back, inside working on distracting Hermione and Ron.

Which was working, too well in fact. Ron was being pulled away from Hermione, her back left unprotected as he tried to drive the Inferi away. He could see the spells fired at them, missing their backs by inches. Cutting his way through the Inferi, he began to run toward Hermione, hoping to push her out of the of the spells he knew they would be using.

“Avada Kedarva!” A voice from his past yelled. He watched the monstrous green light rush toward Hermione. He felt the fire rise inside of his as his wings extended outward again. They cut down the remaining inferi as he flew to her, knowing the he could not and never could deflect the spell. He had made his choice.

I0I

Hermione felt the air grow hotter around her as she turned to see Fawkes flying toward her at an amazing speed. His wings had destroyed the remaining Inferi behind her, yet she couldn't understand why he was moving so fast. It was when she heard the spell, she knew what he was doing. She turned faster than she thought possible as she watched the Unforgivable coming her way. She closed her eyes, awaiting the next great adventure, knowing that Harry would be with her still.

She felt two arms wrap around her before pushing her over, the weight pressing her down. She began to cough from the dirt must have been thrown into the air when they fell. The arms held her tighter as she closed her eyes again, burying her head into the protective chest of her savior. Her ears rang as a pounding in the back of her head settled.

“You okay?” The voice asked. Hermione nodded into his chest, wondering if she was dead or not. There was no way someone could have survived the curse, and as she opened her eyes, the familiar glowing emeralds of her best friend stared back at her.

“Harry?” Her voice was soft, and she began to cough again. He nodded lightly, smiling at her as he moved to his feet. She stayed in his chest, hugging him tighter than anyone she had every hugged before. She surprised at how tall he had gotten, and must have gone back to his prime in heaven. If Harry was here, she must be dead, for there was no way that he could be alive, after going back in time so far.

She began to cough, breathing in the dust that hadn't settled around them. “Relax, just relax.” His voice was so clear, and full, that she could not help but smile, despite the pain that filled her head. She felt his hand rubbing her head, the pain disappearing. Hermione could not help the smile that grew on her face as a warmth filled her body from his gently yet firm grasp upon her. She felt something brush past her arm, the magical residence still there.

“Am I?” Hermione asked, feeling Harry move his hand to hers where the spell had passed. She could only make out the glow of his emerald eyes through the dust, the twinkle gone from them as they darkened.

“You are everything but dead Hermione,” Harry said. “And as much as I'd love to answer your questions, we need to get you to safety.”

“What?” Hermione said. The ringing had stopped and she vaguely heard the shouting of Ron. She tightened her arms around Harry as she realized she was still in the middle of the battle. A battle that should have killed her.....

“Hermione, you okay?” Ron said, rushing over to her side. She nodded, but tightened the grip around Harry. The dust around them was settling, and she could see the outline of shield around them, protecting them it seemed.

“Fawkes, that was amazing, I mean, I've never seen anyone take the Killing Curse before,” Ron said. Fawkes, wait what happened to him.... Hermione looked up at Harry, who gave her a half-hearted smile, his eyes telling her that he'd explain later. She glared up at him, fitting together all of the pieces. She ordered her arms to push him away, yet she could not find the will to do so.

“I'm sorry,” Harry whispered into her ear. She looked back up at him, glaring at him again as she finally pushed away. “Okay, we need to get off this hill.”

“We do you suggest we go Fawkes?” Hermione asked. She smiled at the flinch in his nickname. He sent her a pained look and she immediately wanted to apologize. He let out a long breath, turning away from them.

“You need to get the hell off this hill, while I am going to end this, right now,” Harry said. Despite the nightfall, Hermione could easily tell that the gray in his hair was gone. He looked like the same man he was before, his shoulder hung with the same weight, only younger. As if the man she had met was the real Harry, and this one was just a disguise.

“What?” Ron asked. Harry lifted the gunblade, and turned back with a smile.

“Ron, head off to the twins, Hermione, can I trust you enough to go back, they are going to need a good healer, and I know you're the best,” Harry said. The small smirk he gave her caused her to blush as the twinkle returned to his eyes.

“What if you need help?” Hermione quickly asked. He had started to run off, but stopped.

“Remember that locket I gave you, hold it tight, and wish upon a star,” Harry said. He gave her another smile and she felt a warmth fill her. Her hand went to the locket she wore. She felt the warmth coming from that he took off toward the burnt earth. And the undead that still stood would fall shortly.

“Fawkes gave you a locket?” Ron asked. Hermione shook her head, smiling as she ran off toward the castle. The Inferi had managed to get past them, but it appeared that the majority of the fighting was done. She had to get to Lupin or Tonks and tell them. She had to tell everyone that Harry was back. Oh they would be angry, but she knew that nothing could go wrong now. Or at least, nothing too bad.

“Ginny!” She stopped as she saw the girl running toward her. “Why aren't you back at the castle?”

“You need my help you there,” Ginny said, glaring at Hermione. She felt the fear rising in her, but she held onto the locket. With a smile and shake of her head, she looked back out into the field.

“Harry's out there,” she said.

“Harry's out there?” Ginny asked. Hermione nodded, smiling wider. There was an glint in Ginny's eyes, and Hermione turned to look at her again.

“Ginny...what's wrong?” Hermione asked. She felt a sudden push into her chest, the pain nearly greater than anything she had felt before. She felt hands grabbing at her, pulling her further away from Ginny. “Ginny! HELP ME!” Ginny just stared and then took off running. Her screams began to be drowned out as the hands covered her mouth. She began to struggle, the hands pulling at her tighter and tighter, stealing her. She tried to fight back, but the harder she fought, the greater the pain.

“What do we have here?” It was the same voice that sent the Killing Curse toward her. She screamed again before the world turned black.

I0I

Harry stood atop the hill. The wizards were gone, though he did not know why. The Inferi slumped over, returning to the dead state they should have been in. He canceled the flames that were still burning their way into the earth, dusting off some of the ash that had remained on him. He looked toward the Twins and Ron, running toward him. They didn't look that injured, a few cuts and scrapes were easy for Hermione to fix. He could relax now, everything was going to be okay. Well not really, there was a lot of cleaning up to do, but they had won. The cheering from the castle was evident of that.

He knelt down, the unsettling feeling in his stomach returning. He hadn't felt it for more than two years, the last time was right around the time they had went to the....DoM.....Harry's eyes tore up from the ground, staring at the castle. Something was wrong, Hermione was hurt or something. He could feel it.

“You okay Fawkes?” Neville asked. He lifted him back up to his feet, steadying Harry. Harry nodded, vaguely looking at them.

“We need to talk,” Moody said. Once again both eyes were upon him.

“Say your piece then,” Harry said. He took another breath and stood. The pain was there, it would not go away. Not until he found her.

“Where the hell have you been?” Moody said.

“I never lied to you, it was the truth,” Harry said. He looked back at Moody before looking at the others. Ron seemed to be the closest to figuring it out, and he knew that they would have his piece once Hermione was okay. He had to make sure that she was okay.

“So then how far back did you go?” Moody asked. Harry smiled as he sheathed his gunblade. He unconsciously rubbed his shoulder, still warm from the wings that hid.

“Seventy years, a lot easier to become a doctor at that time,” he said. Shaking his head, he began to walk toward the castle, taking count of the bodies turned to ash. There was a distraction though, like they were supposed to get that far away, and then just collaspe, like they were dead. Shapes of bodies could be seen in the ash that covered the fields. Had they been tricked?”

“HARRY!” He turned to look at Ginny as she came running toward him. He moved to the side, letting her fall into the ash as she lunged at him. The Twins started laughing uncontrollable as Neville helped her up, he had to keep the smile off his face as well. Ron was stunned and Moody just looked smug.

“I was right,” Moody said, limping past him.

“Never said you were wrong,” Harry whispered back.

“Harry?” Ron asked. He nodded and looked toward the castle. There ash had traveled far, as the outlines of dead bodies was still apparent. “What...how?”

“We'll talk once we find Hermione,” he said with a smile. “I think it'll do us all a little good. I just hope she's not hurt too badly.”

“One moment,” Ron said. Harry nodded, thinking that he was taking it well. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him around.

“What?!” He felt the contact of a fist against his jaw, sending him to the ground. He looked up to see Ron shaking his hand, obviously in pain.

“That's for leaving.” Ron said. He held out his hand, offering it to Harry. He was immediately pulled into a hug, still unsure of what was going on. “And that's for coming back. You okay?” He pulled back as Harry moved his jaw, trying to work the pain out of it.

“I will be,” Harry said, taking a step back. “Should have expected something like that.” Both of them laughed as Fred and George came up to him, shaking his hand. Neville appeared to be holding Ginny back while reprimanding her.

“Mate, that was amazing,” Fred said, or was it George?

“Someone needed to put her in her place for a long,” said George.

“Mum certainly wouldn't do it.”

“And we couldn't without getting in major trouble.”

“Ginny became Mum's precious angel this past few years.”

Harry began to chuckle at their antics. “I know, it was very obvious.” He began to walk toward the castle again, knowing that everyone was following him. As he got to the castle, everyone had already gathered outside. His smile began to fade, Hermione not one of the people outside. Maybe she was helping the causalities. The pain in his gut told him otherwise.

“Fawkes, you okay?” McGonagall asked. He gave her a polite smile before asking the question that was burning.

“Where's Hermione?” He asked, searching the faces of the people that surrounded him. Their confusion answered his question. They did not know. None of them. He felt a set of arms grab him before he fell to the ground, the world spinning. He had lost her.....again.....

I0I

Hermione tried to open her eyes, a dull pain filling her body. When she managed to, there was something covering them. Her arms felt heavy, as did her legs. They were chained to the walls of a dungeon and the damp air made her feel colder. Colder than she had ever been in her life. She was trying to stay calm, but she never felt more exposed then she did there, knowing that the cloth that now covered her body hid very little. She did not know if they had done anything else, and that fear was more than she could take. Breaking down in sobs, she only stopped when she heard footsteps approach.

“She's awake,” a cruel voice said. The voice was female, but had a strong edge to it. As if someone had burnt away the innocence, or it just simply never was there.

“Good...good...” another said. “Bring her forward.” She felt the chains being removed and her being dragged. All of her energy was gone as she was thrown to the ground in front of someone.”My dear, I am about to give you a choice.”

“Who are you?” Hermione managed. Her voice was shaking, yet she had found her courage. That fear was gone.

“My apologizes my dear, I thought you know.” There was footsteps behind her, and she felt someone grab her head roughly. Whatever was obstructing her view was removed, and she stared at the feet of a man who sat in a thrown. She brought her head up, the fear fighting back to the surface now.

Voldemort sat in the chair before her. Yet it was not anything like the description Harry had given in his fourth year. No, the man before her, seemed almost human. Despite still having a snakelike face, there was a beauty to his face. It was almost as if it glowed. Hermione turned away, knowing the monster behind the mask.

“I've been wanting to ask you this simple question for a long, long time, Mudblood,” he said. His voice had a hauntingly soothing quality to it, almost like he wanted you to go along with it. Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head, fighting whatever magic he was spinning. Or at least trying to. “Do you truly believe that Potter will return?” There was a push, unlike the Imperious curse, for her to answer no. Yet she couldn't believe that, and never had.

“Yes,” she said. She looked up to see him smiling, as if he expected her to say that. Maybe she was wrong with her thoughts. She looked down again, refusing to meet his gaze, despite something telling her to do such.

“My dear then I believe we have the perfect use for you,” he said. Hermione's eyes shot up to meet his, the fear fully evident. She did not want to be used that way, not now, not ever. His laugh should have comforted her, for the melodic tone of it was eerily comforting, yet she only shivered, knowing something worse was coming. “No, no, I do believe that if Potter returns, he would very much like you alive.”

“That is if you choose right,” Bellatrix said. Her laugh was evil, far from persuasive one she heard from Voldermort.

“Now Bella, please, she is our guest,” Voldemort said. If she had just heard him, she might have believed him, yet the chains on her ankles and arms told her that she was anything but. “Bella does have a point, my dear. It is your choice.”

“What is?” Hermione managed to ask. She looked over at Bellatrix when she realized that Voldemort was not going to answer her.

“Would you give your beauty for your life?” She said as she leaned forward. That fear within her grew again. It was not the natural fear she was used to, but the one she had only felt when Ginny yelled at her or even was near. “I mean, Pothead is obviously attracted to you. Any idiot could have seen that.” She began to laugh again and Hermione tried to look away. Voldemort only had to shake his head and she could not move her eyes away from Bellatrix, nor could she speak. “I've seen that Weasley girl, she really is fine piece of ass. One that any man would kill for, and we know of all the girls he's been interested in. It is very obvious to us that he cares for you, yet from all the other girls its purely physical.”

“He only cares about my looks?” Hermione managed to get out.

“No my dear,” Voldemort said. He sent a glare at Bellatrix, and she cringed underneath it, as if she felt pain simply from the glare. “He is your friend after all, but how much closer of a friend would he be if you were not beautiful?” The question was pounding at her now, as if it was repeated a million times a second. And pushing from inside was that irrational fear, the fear that Ginny had always seemed to spark. If it was so irrational though, why was it growing here? Was it truly irrational, or was she really afraid of the truth?

“So would you give up your beauty for your life?” Voldemort said. There was a pause in his voice, as if he knew she was fighting it. But how could he? “Or how about the life of your friends, the Weasleys?” Her inner battle staggered, as if another weight had been thrown upon her. She began to feel the tears fall down her face as Voldemort stared at her. He did not need to speak, his stare did enough. She could feel the pain of all the deaths that never happened, all the lives that were not lost in a single moment. She would give up everything to prevent that, and all they were asking for was her beauty? She was never that beauty to begin with, how much could they take?

“I'll do it.”

I0I

Harry felt the remainder of his lunch leave him as he retched, the fear and pain almost more than he had ever felt. He could feel the soothing hand of someone rubbing his back, and as he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that person was Hermione. Yet the smell that punctured his world was vile to him, as he knew where it came from. “You have five seconds to explain.” Harry said. He stood and wiped his face, not caring anymore. He stared down at Ginny.

“What are you talking about Harry?” Ginny asked. She truly was puzzled, he could tell and part of him knew she did not understand the question. But he did not care.

“Harry, relax, she may have just got lost,” Mrs. Weasley said. “We'll find here.” There seemed to be a collective groan, as if everyone knew that was the wrong thing to say.

“Molly, she didn't just get lost,” Harry said, turning his glare onto her. “And you need to shut the hell up before I do something I'm going to regret.” He pointed his finger at her, and the Twins had to hold back Charlie. “Now, tell me what the hell happened.”

“Nothing,” Ginny said, defiantly staring him in the eyes. They were near the castle wall, he had manage to get that far before noticing Hermione's disappearance.

“You're lying,” Harry said, glaring at her again. “And I am going to do something I will regret.” He grabbed her by her throat, though nowhere near as tight she could and nearly threw her against the wall. At this point, it was only his magical shield that held them all back. She began to pry at his hand as if to get him to release her.

“Tell me the truth,” Harry said, his voice echoed against the wall, louder than it really was. He had forced his magic into it, and he knew he would collapse soon after this, but he had to know.

“I didn't do anything,” Ginny said. She had begun to cry, and he knew she believed her words, yet there was more to her words that what she led onto believe. He stared at her, his mind going past the barrier of her eyes, and into her unconscious where the Legilmens in him would find the answers.

He watched as Ginny brewed the potion that slowly but surely stripped Hermione of her own free will. He watched her as she lied to her parents, and forcing Hermione further and further into a shell, and the pain it caused Hermione to hide like that. As if hours upon hours of memories poured into him, where Ginny mentally abused Hermione. It was only the strength of her will that she did not break under the pressure. He watched as Hermione came running back to the castle not an hour before. And he watched as Ginny did nothing as Hermione fell backwards into the trap that had been set for her.

He pulled back and stumbled to the ground, the terror in his eyes matching Ginny's as she stared at him. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she stared at him. He felt himself being dragged back to his feet and a punch being thrown at his face. He did not see the redhead that threw it, all he could see was the terror in Ginny's eyes as she realized what she had done.

He felt every single punch they threw at him, and he felt every punch and shot was deserved. He had violated Ginny, something that he never thought he was capable of, yet he had. Their eyes never left each other, and it wasn't until Ginny had stood up and pulled her brother away did they stop. Now, Harry got a good look at Charlie, who was poised to hit him again. The Twins were the ones holding him back and they had let go. Remus had managed to stop Ron, but it look as though he was not trying hard to get to him.

Ginny walked up to Harry, and placed a hand upon his cheek. The intoxicating smell was gone. Dispelled most likely. He flinched away from the contact, the pain finally swelling into his cheeks. Yet he let her hand rest there.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, before collapsing into his chest, tears and all. He wrapped his arms around her, knowing full well that he would hold no guilt over her. The pain she felt from her own actions would be enough, and she understood that. Now. She understood that now. She kept whispering that into his chest, as if he could absolve her of all of her guilt.

Lifting her back up to look into his eyes, he gave her a sad smile. She laughed lightly, and he realized that he was a sight for sore eyes. “I know, I know.” He kissed her head lightly, knowing that whatever was between them had passed, yet they were still closer than they had been. He let her go, into the arms of her parents, smiling slightly at them. They both wore confused looks upon their faces. Harry however just turned around, took one step, and fell flat on his face, into a welcoming darkness that when it ended, he hoped Hermione was still safe and innocent.

-->

Chapter Seven: Hogwarts Redemption

Hope is a good, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. Andy Dufresne

Harry groaned as he opened his eyes. The pain in his stomach had not subsided nor had the pain that throbbed through the rest of his muscles. “Relax, Harry,” a female voice said. He felt something being applied to his chest, possible for the burns he had gotten yesterday, or for one or two of the broken ribs he experienced from the beating.

“Mate,” Ron's voice said. His magic spread through the room. While he was nowhere near as strong as he was before he had been hit by the curse, he still knew a thing or two. Lupin and Tonks stood off to the side, while Ron and Luna were the closest, with Luna on his bed. Hagrid was nearby, as was McGonagall. Outside the hut maybe.

“You apologize for your brothers' actions, I'll leave without you.” He sat up, leaning against the bed frame. He let a groan as he felt pain in muscles he hadn't used in over thirty years. “Damn, I haven't felt this bad since training.” He muttered.

“Training?” Ron asked. Harry looked at him for a moment before Ron shook his head. “Sorry its kinda hard to believe you really are that old.” Harry laughed before he began to cough again. Luna began to help him out, though he could tell she only had a vague idea of what to do.

“Tell me , what do we know?” Harry asked, giving Luna a smile. She nodded, returning the smile as she seemed to relax. Ron have moved behind her to let Lupin and Tonks into the conversation and Harry wasn't surprised to see Luna lean against Ron.

“We know that the inferi managed to take her into the forest, where a portkey was waiting for them” Lupin said. “After that, we don't know where they went though.”

“Moony, you are in charge while I am gone, Luna I want you to take care of my garden,” Harry said, moving to swing his legs off. Luna stopped his legs, glaring at him.

“You are not leaving until you explain,” Luna said and he knew she did not mean about the garden.

“What is there to explain?” Harry said glaring at them. “I've got another job to do, just like the one you hired me for, so let me go and I'll bring her back.”

“Its not that we don't trust you Harry not to bring her back,” Lupin said. “Its just that the last time you left, you left for five years.”

“Not like it was much of a choice for me,” Harry muttered. He leaned against the bed frame again, knowing they would not let him go that easily.

“Why didn't you just return after you first left?” Ron asked. Harry raised an eyebrow at this. “Yes, I know that doesn't make sense, but you know what I mean.”

“Would you believe a man that was seventy years your senior to be a seventeen year old boy?” Harry asked. “I'm honestly surprised you didn't recognize me that much to begin with.”

“Without your glasses, your facial structure changes.” Tonks said. He nodded, then made a move to get off the bed.

“I've got to go, and unless you'd like to clean up a mess, I suggest you let me.” Harry said. They moved and he was thankful for that. He greeted Hagrid and McGonagall as he passed them to the forest.

“Harry James Potter, just where do you think you are going?” McGonagall said. He stopped in front of a tree and began, relishing in the simple release. He heard McGonagall stop and turn around as she got close enough to listen to the urine hitting the tree. He finished off and turned, walking as best as he could back. His legs felt sore still.

“Now, I'm leaving, Ron is coming with me this time,” Harry said. He looked off in the direction where he could feel the portkey was activated. He never could explain it, but even now, despite the limited magical power he had compared to his older self, he could still feel the magic. Must be the phoenix in him.

“Ron you have an half an hour, pack what you need for a week, and then some, I don't know how long this will take or what to prepare for, but I know that might seem like a lot, but it's really I've got to go on.” Harry began walking back up to his hut, they followed him, with Hagrid helping him as he stumbled. Ron headed off to pack, willing to go despite the risks. “Even in training I felt this bad.”

“That is simply because your body is younger now, not used to the pains and riggers that you were accustom to before,” Dumbledore said. Harry looked at his headmaster, and knew that their time together was coming to a close. “I must ask that you leave us now, if but that I may say goodbye.” From their faces, Harry realized that they all had already said goodbye to the Headmaster. Now it was his turn.

“Hello, Albus,” Harry said. He sat down on a chair and motioned for Dumbledore to lay down on the bed. He gave Harry sad smile as he did, his body relaxing on the large bed.

“I want to thank you Harry, for this chance to say goodbye,” Dumbledore said. “The dead always have unfinished business, now I just have less.” Harry chuckled, knowing that there was much left to do. There was a long pause between the two of them. Neither spoke, not a while. Harry lost track of time as he stared out the window, trying to sense Hermione, despite her being so far away. He always could. Dumbledore must have seen the look on his face, as his chuckle broke Harry out of his thoughts. “I fell in love once, Harry. Did you know that?” Harry shook his head. “She was my first cousin.” Harry nodded, knowing that while it was looked down upon, you could not stop love.

“What happened to her?” Harry asked. Dumbledore took a labored breath, and the glow around him had almost faded. The end drew nearer, and it looked difficult for Dumbledore speak, whether the subject or his own demise, it didn't matter.

“She joined a covenant over the affair,” Dumbledore said. “She was the only one that I had ever wanted. The only thing I had ever wanted.” Dumbledore took a deep breath, and closed his eyes before slowly opening them back up. “What was it that you wanted Harry?”

“To have a normal life,” he said without hesitation. Dumbledore chuckled, but there was pain in it and Harry wanted to do something, yet he did not know what he could do.

“Harry, my boy, there is no such thing as a normal life, just life,” Dumbledore said. “I want you to find that brown hair, brown-eyed girl of your dreams, and make wonderful babies together.” Harry smiled at this, nodding in agreement. “There are more important things than magic, more powerful things, Harry.” He placed his hand over Dumbledore's before nodding. “Let me go Harry, don't see me as I pass.”

“Sir,” Harry said, feeling the tears in his eyes.

“Go Harry, grant an old man his last wish,” Dumbledore said. Harry nodded and stood, wiping his eyes as he grabbed his satchel. He had it always packed. He felt the magic fade from the room as Dumbledore's spirit finally rested in peace.

“Ron back yet?” Harry asked as he stepped out of the hut.

“Right here,” Ron said. Harry looked to his left, by the pumpkins that were growing as Ron walked over to him. He wore a satchel on his back, similar to his own and carried his broom with him. “My mother is very upset with you.”

“You're putting it politely aren't you?” Harry asked as he walked followed.

“Harry, putting it politely right now would be to say that she is pissed off,” Ron said. He shook his head, and Harry looked at his friend for a moment. Ron had done a great deal of growing up in the last five years. His posture showed the confidence in his abilities and the humble nature that hide them. Harry smiled lightly, knowing that it took him nearly twenty years to get the confidence that Ron showed him today.

“This is where they disappeared Harry,” Lupin said. Tonks was not looking at either him or Lupin, despite holding Lupin's hand.

“What aren't you telling me?” Harry asked. He looked toward the small wooded area, knowing that the portkey had to be precise. “There is something else isn't there.”

“Snape explained that there was someone there with an expertise in runes,” McGonagall said. Ron snapped his head in her direction, fear covering his face.

“Ron, I know about runes, they're not that big of a problem,” Harry said, still not understanding everything.

“Harry, what do you know about endowments?” Ron asked, his gaze now upon the ground.

“That they are incredible difficult to use, and fell out of favor about three hundred years ago, not because of the gifts that they offer, but because of the dangers to those that gave the gifts,” Harry said. There was a pause in the air, and Harry turned toward McGonagall then Tonks. “They are using one to break her, aren't they?” There was a silence. “Aren't they?” He nearly screamed this time and Tonks broke down in tears. Lupin wrapped his arms around her, almost glaring at him.

“Yes,” he said. Harry nodded, returning the glare. The tension between the was growing, though Harry did not know why. He had no problems with Lupin, yet the man had a problem with him. Only time would tell what that problem was. He turned his gaze back to the wooden area

He closed his eyes, picturing London in his mind as the residual magic from the portkey touched his own. The air became stale as he could feel himself there, as if he was there, right now. The Death Eaters had moved her already, but it was a start.

“Ron, you ready?” Harry held out his hand, as if to shake it. Ron looked at his hand before grasping it firmly.

“Harry, there is no such thing as ready with you,” Ron said with a smile. “Just prepared.” Neither men could help but laugh, and Harry latched on to the string of magic that would take them to London. His abilities at least as a phoenix did not diminish. With a pull like a portkey, they were off to not-so-merry-but-very-old-London.

I0I

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears. She was afraid. There was no other words to describe what she felt. Well, no there was, she just didn't know what those words were. There was the fear she felt of what was going to come, that normal fear someone is supposed to feel when they are at the feet of a tyrant that you know you could fight, but not without the help of friends. Then there was that irrational fear, a stronger fear. She had no way to explain it, the fear was just there. It took her more to fight that irrational fear than anything else, and fighting that made her succomb to the other. Or vice a versa.

“Mudblood, looks like its time,” a Death Eater said. Hermione looked up, her mind still trying to formulate an escape plan through all the fear that threatened her. She was lifted off the ground, her arms still chained to the wall. They blindfolded her again, making sure that she could not see where they were taking her, and giving them one more method of control.

They dragged her for quite some time, until she felt the floor beneath her legs turn from rough to a smooth tile. Where were they taking her?

“Well, well, looks like we're about to make the Mudblood whore even more worthless.” Hermione tried to turn in the direction of the voice. Malfoy. How she wanted to spit upon his feet. The bastard who killed the Headmaster of the school she loved so much.

“Young Malfoy, please, she is our guest,” Voldemort said. Her blindfold was removed, letting the light in. Blinking away the red, Hermione was surprised at the elegance of the walls around her.

The room was unlike anything she had ever seen. The walls were marble, draped in a royal purple that was lit up by several torches. The floor was covered in Persian rugs, leading to the gold throne that Voldemort sat in. Death Eaters stood around her, devoid of masks, and secrecy.

“Are you ready to willingly give up your beauty to Bella?” Voldemort said, motioning Hermione forward. His persuasive voice was not asking this time, as if he had turned it off. She nodded, trying to remain strong in front of the adversary. “My dear, you must speak it.”

“I'll give you my beauty,” Hermione said, bowing her head. She heard Bellatrix cackle like the witch she was, and Hermione stared up at her.

“Bella, you must remember she does this not for you, but for her friends,” Voldemort said. Hermione turned to look at him, not holding back the surprise she felt. Was the man being actually nice? He took no notice of her though, and motioned for a man to come forward.

He was holding a greenish glowing brand, shaped in rune she did not know. The man began to chant something, in a language that seemed to draw magic from the air as the glow around the brand increased. Voldemort nodded, and Hermione felt the shirt torn from her body, leaving her just in her bra and underwear. Her arms were held back, holding her in place.

“Think about why you are giving this gift,” Voldemort said. “You give this so that your friends would be spared. You willingly give your beauty to Bella.” The voice was almost overpowering as the images flooded her mind. She kept her mouth shut as the pain coursed through her body, the brand pushed against her left breast. The pain rushed from her breast until she felt like her entire body was about to go up in flames.

The pain did not end when the brand was removed. She could not even hear the chant anymore, over the screams in her head. She knew she wasn't screaming because she would not give them that satisfaction. She could see the brand being moved from her to Bellatrix, a stream of green light following the brand from her breast. It was only when she thought that she had the pain under control, did her body become asunder. She felt a pulling sensation from every direction, piercing her harsher than any cold English wind, deeper than any word that Malfoy ever spoke.

As the pain ended, she felt different. Hermione knew she was different. She felt her restraints released, causing her to topple over. Pushing off of the ground to get back to her knees, she nearly fell again.

Hermione stared at hands, that had she not been able to feel the pain that was going through them still, she would have never thought they were her own. The skin that was normally a cream color now was pale, her palms caked and callused. They were wrinkled as well, the purple veins easily visible through her pale skin. She felt something being wrapped around her and immediately she pulled it closer, trying to hide herself.

“Bella, please escort her to her room,” Voldemort said. With a sneer, Bella took off in on direction. “And Bella?” She stopped at the door, glaring back at Hermione before softening the gaze onto her master. “You treat her poorly, the gift shall be returned.” Hermione shivered; the tone of his voice was not the one he had spoke with before, but exuded the power that she knew he had. It would have put a fear in her, yet the fear was already there.

The hallway she was led down was elegant as the hall she had just been in. Bellatrix stopped in front of a doorway, guarded by two golems of metal. They easily moved aside for Bellatrix, and were quickly given an order to not let anyone in. And no one out. Hermione let out a sigh, knowing that it was going to make escaping even harder.

Hermione held back the gasp, though she did not stop showing the surprise as she entered her new quarters. The room was just as elegant as everything else she had seen so far. The bed was enormous, covered in what looked like satin sheets. The canopy reached high, almost touching the ceiling with the drapery. An open door led to what appeared to be an large bathroom. But what surprised her the most were the shelves of books that covered the walls. She had rarely seen so many books in one spot, the last time was Hogwarts library, yet seeing so many here left in her in awe.

“Master wanted to make sure you were comfortable with your station now,” Bellatrix said. “As a dedicate, you will be under constant surveillance, to ensure that Master's abilities are preserved, as well as my own.” She sneered once more, moving to do something, yet she stopped, fearing her “Master's” retribution far more. She left Hermione at that, to the room filled with books.

Hermione turned and immediately walked into the bathroom, her determination stronger now that she was out of Voldemort's presence. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see herself until she worked up the courage. She turned and faced the direction of the mirror, knowing it would cover the wall, if not both of them. Just to further subject her pain.

Opening her eyes, she saw the horror that she had become. Her hair no longer brown, now gray and as bushy as ever. Her skin was covered with various warts and liver spots between the wrinkles and obviously dry spots. Her eyes had the hints of jaundice, as well as the other spots on her body. Her perfect teeth were now crooked and her tongue drier than any cotton mouth she had ever felt. She closed her eyes and turned away.

There as a pain that filled her as she stared at her reflection She knew what she had to do to survive. She would not give into the voices anymore. The voice telling her to stay strong grew even louder in her mind. She could not help the smile that crossed her lips as she realized whose voice spoke to her.

I0I

Harry took them to the abandoned warehouse that the portkey had brought Hermione too. He was closer now to her, he could feel that she had been here as well. “Ron, we're going to have to go out into the world now.”

“What?” Ron asked. “Where the hell are we?”

“The London Underground,” Harry said. “We need to get to the streets so I can figure out where we are.” Harry began to walk off in, stopping when he felt Ron grab onto this arm.

“Harry, you've got to explain to me what happened to you,” Ron said.

“I will, but we've got to move,” Harry said, pulling his arm out of Ron's. He exited the warehouse, the sounds of the sea echoing through the buildings. “Okay, we're going to have to head into the city.”

“Is that safe?” Ron had followed him, his wand drawn as if ready for an attack.

“For the moment,” Harry said. “I suggest putting that away for now, and trust me on this.” He began to walk in the opposite direction of the wharf. They needed to head further inland.

“Where are we going?”

“London underground, I think,” Harry said. He closed his eyes as they reached a trash-ridden street, touching the magic that Hermione had. Opening his eyes again, he could see the faint line of light, traveling off to the north, to London. He had to smile, as he waved down the lone taxi coming their way.

“You got enough?” Ron asked, motioning toward him. Harry only smiled as he opened the door and entered.

“Where to Mr Evans?” The man said. Harry nearly laughed at the shocked look on Ron's face.

“The nearest London underground station,” Harry said. “What?”

“How does this man recognize you?” Ron asked.

“I'm not really a man, just a programmed charm to assist Mister Evans with his traveling measures,” the driver said. “I recognize his magical signature, and at much like the Knight Bus, I can get to just about anywhere that Mister Evans needs.”

“Why does he call you Mister Evans?” Ron asked as they began to drive off toward the inner part of the city.

“That was when I had first charmed the cab,” Harry said. He leaned against the window, rubbing his right arm where the scar was.

“Harry, do you mind at least telling me a little of how you became like this,” Ron asked. He turned from his gaze out the window, trying to relax. He reached forward, opening a small compartment that held a bottle of aged scotch. He poured himself a glass, drinking it quickly before pouring another for himself and one for Ron.

“You following the path, Edgar?” Harry asked. He handed the glass to Ron, stalling for time so he didn't have to explain.

“Come on Harry, I'm not going to think any less of you,” Ron asked again.

“Ron, it was when I was trapped back in 1920, when I was had realized my folly,” Harry said. “I was trapped sixty years in the past, and I could not do anything but wait.” He looked back out the window. “While you had to wait five years for me to come back, I had to wait sixty eight Ron, sixty eight years.” The silence in the car was enough for Harry to know that Ron was thinking things over.

“Just answer me one more question before we get there.” Ron asked. “How the hell did you get Snape to work with you?”

“Beat the crap out of him,” harry said, with a shrug of his shoulders. Ron's jaw dropped as the he stared at Harry. Harry could not hold back his laughter, knowing that the truth was better than any fiction he could have ever read. “Twice actually.”

“Twice, you kicked Snape's arse twice?”

“It was right before I went back in time, literally moments before I was thrown back in time,” Harry said, smiling lightly. The memory was still fresh in his mind, something he didn't think he'll ever forget. “He tried to attack me, didn't relaize that I had learned a thing or two while travelling.”

“You going to teach us that stuff?” Ron looked hopeful at the mention of something that could kick Snape's ass. Harry laughed again, feeling slightly embarrassed, but he nodded.

“You want the truth?” Harry scratched the back of his neck when Ron nodded so fast he thought his head was going to fall off. “He did have me cornered, and fired a curse at me. I dodged it and I hit him.”

“You hit him? As in punched him?” Ron had finally taken the drink Harry had poured, and finished in one gulp. Harry poured him another glass.

“Yeah, once in the gut and once in the nose, broke it, that git,” Harry said, causing Ron laugh. He had to get his friend to relax, as he knew what types of horrors they would face. Ron needed a calm mind if the snakes' pit they were heading to was filled. “Stumbled to the ground, a curse missed him.”

“Should have let it hit him,” Ron growled. Harry shook his head, smiling lightly.

“Then I couldn't have kicked him so another curse missed him,” Harry said. “When he realized that I thought it was more important that he was alive, he nodded and played dead, so to speak. I left him there, and finished off the remainder of the Death Eaters.

“I was going to head back to him, but the time turner had different plans,” Harry said with a sheepish smile. “It was then when I became Fawkes that I saved his ass. I returned and pulled Snape off the ground. Told the bastard he owed me.” Both of them laughed at this, though the air was still filtered with an awkwardness left from Harry's own words. Time was a hard barrier to cross, and even harder to return across.

“How about the second time?” Ron asked, his laughter subsiding.

“Who do you think gave him that crocked nose in the first place?” Harry asked. Ron's resolve had broken now and he was nearly rolling in the seat. The silence replaced Ron's laughter as it died down, and he seemed to be thinking of more questions.

“Did anyone ever figure you out?” Ron asked as the car stopped. They were right outside an entrance to the underground, with the trail of light leading down the stairs.

“Yeah, but that's a story for another day,” Harry said. “Most likely this will take us to another point that they used a portkey to.”

“I think I'll be able to find out who else was with her, that took her I mean,” Ron said, following Harry down the stairs. The stairs were covered in the underground art that Harry had found at times humorous. This time, however, he felt that the obscenity of the art only made the feeling in the pit of his stomach grow.

“Looked up some spells?” Harry asked as they watched the underground pass them by. In the tailwind, he began to walk to down the tunnel, following the light.

“Yeah, it helped to figure out which twin or Ginny had pranked you,” Ron said. “You realize this might just be a wild goose chase.”

“I may have been a doctor, but I was taught by a hunter,” Harry said. “I will find her.” He turned, and if he had looked back, he would have seen the grin upon Ron's face

I0I

For about the twentieth time, Hermione congratulated herself on her intellect. It had been about a week sense the endowment was taken from her, and the fears had died down Hermione had torn off a piece of her curtains, making a cover for her eyes. So far, everything was going as best as they could be expected to. Without the constant picture of her altered state, her confidence was not as crushed as she pretended it to be. She was lucky she had found a spell to teach her braille while training with Fleur. It was the only way she would've been able to read as much as she was doing now.

The reading, mainly fiction, was what kept both fears away. Books weren't real, they never could be. But they did take her away from these four walls that trapped her. She found it difficult at first, to read in such a manner. She was used to the words in front of her, there for her to go back and look at. Now it was as if she was learning to read all over again.

Setting the book aside, Hermione leaned back into the bed, trying to relax. The fears were coming back to her, yet the irrational one, the one that she felt since Harry had originally left was dying. That was the only way she could explain it. The fear was dying. She could not help but smile at that little piece of information. One fear was dying and the other could be fought. She would not break for Riddle.

Sighing, she picked the book up again, knowing she had no other way to pass the time, and prayed that Harry would find her soon. It was the only other thing that she did. Read and pray.

Her captures treated her alright, but they never saw her, never came to check up on her. They left her to her own devices and if she was under constant surveillance then she probably would have lost her sanity sooner. The silence was often deafening and she tried to fight it with the music player she had requested. She had managed to find a singer too that sang similar to Harry, yet whose voice was a bit harsher. She found comfort in it, ebbing the fear that she knew she would find when she met up with Harry once again.

Who he still care for her when he saw how she looked now? Would he even want to look at her?

Shaking her head, she quickly threw those thoughts away. Those thoughts brought back the fears of her own insecurities. She would not give in to them, because doing so would give into the fear that the endowment brought. A fear she would not let control her life. She let the music encompass her, trying to fall asleep to be normal in her dreams.

However, Fate had different plans for her. Her dreams would have to wait as the screams of terror and fear could be heard outside. As much as she wanted to hide, she found her body frozen, unable to move. The blackout indicated they cut the power to the place, yet why would someone do that, unless...

Unless there was the intent to kill of the Dedicate...

The scream she fought to keep back escaped when her door was thrown open, light leaking in from the hallway. Despite her blindfold, she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst. “My dear, if you would please come with me.” The man had taken several steps forward, and now was by the bed, yet she did not hear the footfall of his steps. She turned in the direction she thought he was in, still unsure of what to expect. “Do you trust me?” His voice had a lighter tone to it, as if he had lifted the regret and pain from his shoulders for a single moment.

“Harry?” She was trying to keep her emotions intact, yet how could she? Here was the same man who saved her multiply times, and he was looking at her undignified and ugly form. What good was she to him now?

The bed shifted and she felt his hand upon her head. “Yes?” he ran his hand through her hair, causing her to lean into his touch. She pulled back, knowing that he was only trying to comfort her for her loss, he would never fall for her now.

“”You've come to get me out of here?” Hermione asked, moving away from the bed.

“Yes,” Harry said, getting up from the bed. She was glad he had put distance between them, the fears were falling back now. “Among other things.”

“What other things?” Hermione asked, standing up from her side of the bed. She grabbed hold of the bed post, using it to stabilize her as best as she could. Harry took her arm, lacing it through his own.

“Trust me, and let me speak, okay?” She nodded, the fears rising as she began to walk toward the door. She had not done that since the first day they brought her here, as if the magic told her that would only hurt her in the end. “Its okay, you're safe with me.” She nodded and moved a little closer to his side, tightening her grip on his arm. He patted her hand and she could picture him giving her a sad smile, as if he was pained in what he saw in her. Shaking the tears from her eyes, she heard the steps of someone else running over them.

“Blimey, you don't need to take off like that,” Ron said. Hermione could tell he was out of breath, yet said nothing. “Who's she?”

“She is a Seer that is going to lead us out of here,” Harry said with such confidence Hermione almost believed him. “She also knows where Hermione is.”

“I thought you knew where Hermione was?” Ron asked. She looked up at Harry, feeling him shake his head.

“Lost her trail, mate,” Harry said. Hermione wanted to lean more into his side, but felt that in her current position such an act was a bad idea.

“And this old broad is supposed to help us find her?” Hermione winced at Ron's comment and Harry only patted her hand.

“Ron, she's blind, not deaf,” he said. “And she will find Hermione, right?” She nodded for good measure, before feeling herself being tugged off in one direction. “I thought you said you took care of the guards.”

“I did,” Ron said. The tug on her arm nearly pulled it out of the socket, yet she was caught by a pair of strong arms. “They must have switched shifts.”

“No shit!” Harry yelled back. She slapped his arm, knowing that it was futile if she couldn't see him, yet he shouldn't swear. “Sorry.” he whispered, and she could not help but smile slightly. “Ron, we might need to split up.” The sound of something exploding shook her slightly. Being in a room where she had an idea of where things were made everything so much easier. Could they have at least thought of a better rescue plan?

“What? You crazy?” They were yelling at each other now, the sound of spellfire growing louder by the second.

“Look where you are,” Harry yelled back. “I'm on one side of the hall, you're on the other. You really want to try and cross this?” Hermione winced as another explosion sent something flying her way. “Look, meet me back at the underground entrance in about a day. Lose as many of them as you can.”

“What hell are you going to do?”

“Hide, you got a better plan?”

“Fuck!” Another explosion and she heard footsteps running off in the opposite direction.

“Ron's going to be okay, we've got to go now,” Harry said. She was being pulled in the other direction that footsteps were going.

“Harry, what plan do you have?” Hermione managed to ask once they had stopped running. This was only after going through several corridors and at least six flights of stairs, all up.

“Told you, run,” Harry said. “I'm not where near strong enough to take them all on.”

“But you did back at Hogwarts,” Hermione asked. She felt Harry push against her a little harder, and tried to forget the horror that she was.

“I had a lot more magic at my disposal,” he said. “Magic grows with age, ever wonder why Dumbledore was as strong as he was. Natural order of things.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“I mean that there is direct correlation to the age of a wizard or witch and the amount of magical power and control they possess.” There was a pause and she felt a disillusionment charm go up around them. “Just stand very still.” He whispered into her ear.

She nodded, and tried not to think about his body pressed up to hers. The fact that she felt this way, and yet knew she could never be with him only made the pain worse. “Harry?” She heard what sounded like a confirmation, so she continued. “I'm sorry that I failed you.”

“Now how did you do that?”

“I got caught, and then they did this to me,” she said. Her voice was so soft, she was surprised she was even heard. “There is no way to remove an endowment, except by death.”

“If you are asking me to kill you Hermione, the talk we're going to be having shortly is going to be worse than you thought,” Harry said. The confidence in his voice made her shiver, as if his eyes were bearing down upon her.

“I can't go back like this,” Hermione said. She felt two strong arms take hold of her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. In a way it did.

“You won't,” Harry said. She felt odd, her rough skin touching his still brought a chill to her spine, one that seemed to destroy any of the remaining fears from Ginny. “But right now, we need to get you out of here.”

“Where are you taking me?” Hermione asked. She didn't get a response, instead was picked up by Harry, who took off in a mad run in one direction. They must have passed through a ward as she felt something lifted off of her.

Harry must have realized it too as he set about doing what he should have done in the first place. There was a pull along her navel, as if Harry had a portkey, taking them far away from the hell that Hermione was in.

“First thing we do is take that damn blindfold off,” Harry said.

“NO!” Hermione's hand went to the knot immediately. “I can't, I'm sorry, but I can't.'

“Why? They really didn't take your sight too did they?” Harry asked. Hermione shook her head and took a step back. She nearly tripped over whatever was behind, but she did not care.

“It makes it easier for me,” Hermione said. She turned her back to him and felt him move closer to her. “Don't touch me either, please. It just makes things easier for me.” She heard him shuffle his feet away, stopping about a yard away.

“There is a chair behind you, if you'd like to sit down,” Harry said. His voice was distant, like he was in pain. Pain she caused. She nodded her thanks, sitting down and relaxing her legs after the run Harry had put them through. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“Only that Riddle was oddly nice about everything, including my treatment,” Hermione said. “He seemed to be trying to persuade me into doing this, which obviously worked. Like he wanted me to go along with what he was saying.”

“Riddle needed you to willingly give up the gift, otherwise it would be for not,” Harry said. “I had Ron clue me in on what he knew about them. The strategy in that boy's head.”

“Harry, you're not that much older than he is,” Hermione said. She shook her head, trying to understand this new Harry. This was not her Harry. No matter how much he looked like him.

“Hermione, I've raised a daughter and nearly been killed at least twenty times over the last three decades,” Harry admonished. “I think its alright if I call him a boy.”

“What about me? Am I girl then to you?” Hermione snapped. She suddenly felt very angry. He had a daughter, why didn't he tell her? If he had a daughter, then he must have had a wife.

“No Hermione, you are a grown woman, who knows a lot more and has seen a lot than many of the people back at Hogwarts,” Harry said. His voice was even, as if he was fighting something. An emotion maybe. “Ron to me is still a boy because that's just how it is. He's still naive about things, but there is as sense to him that he understands more of what is going on. I meant no offense by calling him a 'boy' and I apologize if you took it that way.”

“I'm sorry Harry,” Hermione said. She wanted to turn and look away from him, maybe hide, but she could find a place to crawl away and hide in the darkness she gave herself. “Its just difficult for me right now. I'm still trying to adjust to this curse.”

“Why adjust to it when someone can put an end to it?” Harry asked.

“How do you propose doing that?” Hermione asked. “You told me yourself that there was only one sure fire way to destroy an endowment, and that was to kill the dedicate.”

“Actually you said that,” Harry said, with a smile. Or at least Hermione thought he smiled. It would have been a very Harry thing to do. “What I'm saying is that there is a way to do it, yet the cost is about the same.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. She wasn't planning on going through with it, she was just interested in her options.

“I mean that someone would have to bind themselves to you, replacing your bonds to Bellatrix.” Harry spat the name as he spoke. “It would have to pretty power of a bond, almost entwining destinies so to speak.”

“But that would mean someone was sacrificing something for me,” Hermione said. She shook her head. It was her burden to bear and she would do so without complaint. “I'm not letting anyone do that for me.” The air was stale, as if Harry's words would not go away.

“Hermione....what are your feelings for Ron?” The question caught her by surprise, and she couldn't find any words for a while. “What I mean is, have they changed since the fight the two of you had before I left?”

“Harry, my feelings have nothing do with this,” Hermione said. “And it really is not your place to be asking about them.” There was another silence, and Hermione shifted uncomfortable in her seat. While she didn't have feelings for Ron anymore, she certainly did not want Harry to know that. She had put him through hell, leaving like he did, and although she knew there was a reasonable answer for it, part of her did not want to admit to him the depths of her love.

How could he love a monster like herself? So ugly that she could not even look herself in the mirror. Maybe her fears were not as far gone as she thought they were.

“There is more magic in the world Hermione, than you know,” Harry said. “There are some bonds that are deeper than the one placed upon you. Bonds that are not only beneficial to both parties, but protective as well.”

“What are you talking about Harry?” Hermione asked.

“There is a bond that a phoenixes use when with their mates, a life bond I guess you could call it,” Harry said. “They use to when they find the other they wish to spend the rest of the immortal souls' life with. In other words, even death can no separate the two of them.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Hermione asked. She had read that once when in COMC, but it never meant anything to her.

“Hermione, if you can not figure out what I mean by that, then we will be here a long time,” Harry said. He must have gotten up, she heard the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed against it. “Ron, yeah, its Harry, I'm kinda in between a rock and hard place. I need you to stay low for the night. You know where the safe house is?” There was a pause, he must have called Ron on the phone or something else. There was a pause, and Hermione wished she could hear what Ron was saying. “Mate, just be careful. There is a wallet of money waiting for you there too.” Another pause. “Yeah, you want to take care of the other part?” This pause was the longest, and Hermione was kinda of worried now. There was no click of the phone, so Ron must have been talking. What did he need to talk so much about. “That's fine with me. I'll call you later with an update. Bye.”

“What was that about?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing that concerns you right now,” Harry said. He walked back to his chair, it scraping against the floor again as he sat.

“What do you mean it doesn't concern me? I'm in this with you too,” Hermione nearly yelled. “What right do you have to make my decisions for me? AGAIN?”

“This decision you made yourself,” Harry said. “You said you would not go back looking like that, and you won't let me help you. In order for you to help me, we must go back. So as you can see, anything that would be helping me at the moment has nothing to do with you.” Hermione hung her head, knowing he was right. She wanted to help him so bad that it hurt; the pain of the rune never fully touched her until now. Her heart felt like it would break, again. She couldn't go back, and there was no way to save her fate. Harry mentioned one way, but that was impossible. She would be alone for the rest of her life, by her own hand.

The silence between them was horrible, and Hermione never felt so alone in her life, despite having her love across the room from her.

-->

Chapter Eight:Beginning to See A Truth

I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestioned ability of a man to elevate his life by conscious endeavor. Henry David Thoreau (1817 - 1862)

Ron had gotten to the safe house without much fanfare. Despite being pursued, there was little that they could do to catch up to him. They had even given up at one point. Not that Ron minded of course. But now that he sat in the room, staring at the muggle contraptions, he figured he had time to think.

He needed to that, and with Harry/Fawkes's return, there was little time for him to set things straight. He had too many thoughts rolling through his head.

Since Harry left for the first time, he felt the darkness in the world. He knew it was there, he had to be stupid not to know that. But for the first time, he had seen it close up and personal. Ron had seen the darkness that Voldemort was and he saw it attack Hogwarts. That same darkness had seeped its way into his family in the guise of mistrust and denial.

Hermione had managed to take the brunt of it, unjustified as it was. He loved her when he had asked her out, and he still did. Just not in the way she deserved to be. He had tried to court her, but she refuted him every time. That was had set off his mother the first time. Now though, things were different.

Ginny had made it her personal duty to ensure that Harry was always on everybody's mind, and it was on everybody's mind that he would return for her. That would have worked, if Hermione had not held adamant to her stance that he would return, but not for her or for Ginny. He would return because it was right.

Both were wrong. Harry returned for Hermione. She was only one he listened to, no matter who he said he was, he listened to her. That was what made it so easy to believe that Death/Fawkes was Harry. He listened to Hermione, and she responded to him.

Hermione was even better because of him. Whatever Ginny had said to Hermione to force her into the shell was broken with the arrival of Death/Fawkes. He would have said that Hermione would return to normal with Harry's return, yet her capture still troubled him. Harry was going to go after her, and he was to practice his magic.

Ron took the small book Harry had given him before they entered that complex. He said the answers to his magical strengths were within him. That he had to focus upon his home, upon the place where is at peace. At first he thought Harry had meant the Burrow, clearings surrounded by wooded areas. Yet there had to be more of it than just that.

Opening the book, Ron began to slowly read about the five magics that encompass the world. Of the islands, swamps, mountains, forests, and the plains. There was magic everywhere. What did Harry want him to learn?

I0I

Hermione was starting to get angry. Harry hadn't talked to her in well over an hour now. He gave her a book to read, and told her he'd talk to her when she was finished.

“What are you doing Harry?” Hermione finally asked. He had been silent for the last twenty minutes, the only movement she could figure was when he moved closer to transfigure her chair into a more comfortable one. She heard a groan and the shifting of sheets.

“I was trying to take a nap,” Harry said. “You finish the book?”

“No, but what's that go-” she started to say.

“You decide to go back?” Harry interrupted.

“No, but-”

“Then wake me when you do either of them,” Harry said. The sound of something large hitting the mattress was the only thing she heard.

With a growl, she relaxed in her chair. He knew something that he wasn't telling her, and she was being too stubborn to see it. That much at least they both agree upon. She just didn't understand why Harry didn't tell her what she needed to know, then he could be on his way, and leave her.

He already told you he wasn't leaving without you.

She turned the book over in her hands, trying to figure out what to do. She didn't want to go back, not like this. The only way to get him to talk to her was to read the book. Which was what she was planning on doing.

Curling her legs underneath her, she wordlessly cast the spell, the words becoming braille. She found herself drawn in, forgetting about her anger toward Harry, about how loneliness. Something about the words drew her in.

Magic rests upon the soul. Soul rests at home. It is where the home lies that magic will flourish.

Magic can be broken down into five types: red, green, white, blue, and black. Each type corresponds to an area of the world. To mountains are red, the forest green, the plains white, the islands blue, and the swamps black. Each type of magic is different, but there are similarities between some of them, and starch contrasts between others. That however is not the purpose of this entry. The purpose is for a reader to prove themselves as wizards. To prove themselves by drawing upon the mana of their magic and use it to complete real magic.

Hermione continued to read, finding notes written along the edges. The book was handwritten, the course lines still sensed below the braille. How she would have loved to read those words, decipher the scrawl. Yet more importantly was get to know the man who passed down this knowledge to her.

As she read, the image of a beach stretching into a long plain, with distant mountains in one side, and a forest toward another. It was almost like between her beach, the mountains, and the forest, a triangle could be made. She wasn't going to think about that right now.

Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the sea breeze as it touched her cheeks. She could smell the salt in the air and hear the seagulls flying above. She turned in her mind toward the plains, feeling draw in the direction of the mountains. She began to walk slowly, past the tall grass and lone tree.

“Well, looks like you're finished.” Harry's voice snapped her out of her trance. That was the only way she could explain it all. “Do you understand a little bit more, or would you like to mediate some more?”

“I'd like to talk about it,” Hermione said.

“I figured you would,” he said. She felt something move close to her chest, right above her abdomen. “I took the liberty of ordering us some take out. I figured it would be best to get you something to eat. It's probably been close to three hours since you started reading.”

“What?” Hermione turned her head in the direction of his voice, or at least where she hoped his voice was.

“Would you like an explanation, or would you like to tell me what you saw first?” He had a chuckle in his throat, and she would have glared at him, yet he was right. She needed to talk about it.

“I'd like to know what happened first, might make it easier for me to explain things,” Hermione said.

“The book is an older version of one I have, I apologize for not give you that one, it goes further in depth about all of the types, but I thought that this would help you focus on yours,” Harry said. Hermione felt one of her hands being grabbed then her fingers being wrapped around a box. “I got some Chinese, if that's okay. The fork's in the box.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. She shouldn't have been surprised by how calm and understanding of her situation, but she was. This Harry wasn't her Harry, not completely at least. But she wasn't his Hermione that he remembered either. “So what happened?”

“What place did you picture in your mind? The plains I hope,” harry said.

“I found myself at where the beach met the plains, but there these mountains off in the distance and some forests as well.” Hermione said.

“Don't worry about those right now, lets just look at the plains and the islands,” he said.

“I was just at the beach though.” Hermione pushed whatever was in the box around a bit, trying to figure out what it was or if she was hungry.

“There were islands out there, trust me,” Harry said. “So that makes you a blue and white mage, leaning toward white, I presume. We'll have to see though.”

“But what does that mean?” Hermione asked.

“It means that you will be able to use those types of mana to counter other types, heal wounds, summon birds, knights, wind and water elementals, soldiers, and a dozen other things. Heck, you might even be able to summon some fish.” He laughed at this point. “But I doubt that.”

“I could do all that?” Hermione asked, astonished. Magic as she knew it was restrictive in just about everything it could do. “Cure without potions? Counter magic?” There were no counters to magic, there never had been. Magic simply was too strong to counter.

“Do you believe it to be possible?” Harry asked. She nodded, knowing that there had to be something stronger than just magic. “That it will be. Now, granted it will take some time before you could do everything I mentioned, but you'll have to start small.”

“That's fine, when do we start?” Hermione said, getting excited about this new type of magic. Or rather older magic she was about to learn.

“After lunch,” Harry said. “You need to eat and relax first.” Hermione took a bite of the food she was given. Not surprised at the sweet and sour pork she was given, she still felt good to enjoy it again. It had been a long time since she was able to enjoy good Chinese food. While this wasn't necessarily it, the meal was close enough.

Swallowing, she began to think more about the man in front of her. While he may have looked like her Harry, he wasn't. Not really. But she wanted to get to know this Harry.

“Harry...” She wasn't sure if she should ask, or even if he would answer, but she still wanted to know. “What happened to you?” She heard Harry put down his meal, and let out a sigh. Maybe she shouldn't have asked. “I'm sorry, if-”

“You remember when I left?” Harry asked. She nodded, gripping the locket he had given her unconsciously. She never took it off, and always believed that if she held it, Harry was closer to her. “I headed off to Hogwarts, specifically Albus's grave. I needed to grieve still. I don't remember how long I was there, but it had started to rain. If I had known at the time, it would have made it easier figuring out which type of mana I am able to control.” Hermione just nodded, logging the question away for later. His voice was tense, and she could tell he was going to only have harder time dealing with telling his story. She wasn't going to make it any worse. “I went to his office, and read a letter he left to me. He told me to begin to look for knowledge that would unlock the inner magics within us all. So that's what I did. Grabbed his time turner, and headed into Europe.”

“How much did you find?” Hermione asked, then kicked herself. She didn't want to ask questions, but that one came out before she could stop it.

“Not much,” Harry said. “To be honest, I spent more time enjoying myself and relaxing than looking. It was another thing that Albus had asked me. Was to enjoy my summer before I returned. He said that it would be a long time before I could ever find peace like I found that summer again.

“You know how you said you hated skiing?” Harry offered. “I found that it was one of the most relaxing experiences I've ever had. Right after that was napping on the beach. I felt normal for the first time ever. Didn't last long, even with the time turner. About two months or so. I headed back after that, to my parent's house. You already know what happened there.” Hermione nodded. “Well, I found myself about seventy years in the past, a couple years before the Great Depression. I was actually surprised they even let me become a doctor at that point.” Hermione opened her mouth to ask another question, but a phone rang. Must have been a cell phone that Harry carried.

“Ron-calm down Ron-what's wrong-okay....okay... I'll be right over,” Harry said.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked. He sighed and she felt the table disappear, making her thankful that she was holding her food.

“Ron leaped before he looked and did something incredible foolish,” Harry said. “I've got to clean up his mess.” He walked over to her, his steps light as he stood beside her. She reached out blindly, grabbing onto his arm.

“Please don't leave me, I couldn't bare it again,” Hermione asked. The fear she felt was not the abnormal one that Ginny seemed to induce, or her own insecurities. This was one that had haunted her for quite some time: the fear of losing him all together. She felt his hand go over hers and give it a gentle squeeze.

“Hermione, I need you to think long and hard about something,” Harry said. “I want you to tell me what is more important, returning with me, as you are, or not returning at all, and being without me.” He kissed her forehead at this, and she felt the shiver run down her spine. “Please love, think hard.” Harry whispered. And in a moment, the room became a lot colder. She sighed and did what he asked: think long and hard. Would she truly give up her beauty for him?

I0I

Ron couldn't believe it when he did it. The damn thing had sprouted out of the pot along the wall, and by now there was about ten of them, walking around the room and on the walls. They were like weeds, only uglier. They didn't speak, yet he could have sworn there were faces on them and they were watching him.

He didn't mean to do it, but as he thought about the forests he had found in his mind, he saw the the weeds there to. But they weren't moving. He drew his arms outward before pulling them in, just like the book said he could do to gather the mana. The forest had paled around him slightly, and the mana was stronger than he thought. Waking from his trance suddenly, with the image of those weeds still in mind, he pushed the mana outward.

“Ron, what was the first direction the book gave?” Harry asked. Ron nearly jumped off the bed he had been sitting upon when Harry appeared in the room.

“How the hell you do that?” Ron asked.

“Magic,” Harry said with a shrug. Ron glared at him and then jumped when all of those damn weeds began to circle Harry. “Ron, call them off.” His voice was tired, though Ron could have cared less at the moment. He was still trying to figure out how those damn things got there in the first place. “You have no idea what you did do you?”

“Hey, the book should have come with better instructions of something,” Ron said. Harry just sighed again and crossed his arms. “Okay, I didn't finish reading, give me a break.”

“Ron, there was a reason I told you to finish reading before you started trying this,” Harry said. “Though, I must say, you sure did a hell of a lot better than me my first time.”

“You summoned these things too?!” Ron asked. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Well, kinda because its a trial and error process,” Harry said. “Now, call them off.”

“How do I do that?” Ron asked, looking sheepish. He really should have finished that book. “Wait, I got it.” Harry raised his eyebrow as Ron stood from the bed. “Form a protective perimeter around this room.” He drew the mana in once again, concentrating on what he needed to do as he spoke. Pushing out the green mana, he felt the spike of energy be released, and the weeds shifted directions.

They began to crawl along the walls, growing and leaving trails of vines and leaves behind them. By the time they were in the corners of the room, the walls had been covered in a thick vines.

“Much better than my first time,” Harry said, looking around at the walls. Ron never heard what else Harry had to say. His body was just too heavy for him to hold up any more, and he collapsed on the bed. Had he been awake, he would have heard this: “Course, I blew up a room when I was supposed to light a candle.”

I0I

Hermione sat there for a moment. His words and question kept echoing inside her mind. She had already given up the beauty for her friends. Could she accept who she was now? Could she accept who she was now?

Taking a chance, she took off the cloth around her head, but kept her eyes closed. She had to take one step at a time. Thinking back to her beach, Hermione stood from her seat and opened her eyes, feeling more in control then she had ever felt before.

Opening her eyes, she kept them straight ahead. She wanted to look into a mirror first, to fully see the changes that Riddle had thrown upon her. With each step she took toward the mirror on the far side of the wall, she felt a little calmer, a little less fear. It was as if the fear was breaking off bit by bit. Picturing that in her mind, she stopped in the mirror, letting the scene of the beach and plains fill her up before she looked.

Looking out on the beach, she could see the islands that Harry spoke of. With a smile, she thought she might go over to them one time, but not right now. Something didn't feel right, and she felt as if it were on the plains. Heading in the direction of the forest this time, Hermione continued on, a feeling a dread growing as she walked along.

There was something dark not too far away from here, something that shouldn't have been there. It wasn't from the enchantment, though, how she knew that, she couldn't say. No, this was placed there by someone else.

The grass was dead around the stone that Hermione saw. Everything was dying off as she got closer to the rock. She stopped when the dread was too much for her. Thinking back to the book, she began to gather the mana from the land around her.

She pushed her hands together, cupping them as she would an insect between them. Yet what she held was a lot more unpredictable. Removing her hands, the ball of white mana, with flecks of blue, floated in front of her. She smiled to herself at the power she was able to draw upon, before nodding in the direction of the rock. The ball took off, cutting the rock in half.

Almost immediately, the ground beneath her grew lighter, healthier. She fell to her knees, no able to prevent the smile that had settled onto her face.

“Why is it that my first attempt I end blowing up an entire room and you can do it perfectly?” Hermione looked up to Harry walking toward her from the mountain.

“How did you get here?” Hermione managed to get out. Harry just smiled and crouched down in front of her.

“You don't think I recognize the trances when I see them?” he said with a slight chuckle. “Lots of monks went into them as they took care of the monastery I was at.”

“What do you mean?”

“These trances are used to help a mage magnify their ability to manipulate and control mana,” Harry said. “Eventually, these places will become more prominent within your own minds. So much that you don't even need to fall into a trance to use the mana. Quite astounding really.” He stood back up, and held out his hand. “Find an answer to your question?” Hermione shook her head.

“That was kinda the reason I was here,” she said. Harry just gave her a smile as he nodded. “I wanted to see how I looked in the mirror before I decided.” He nodded as she took his hand, lifting her up as she held onto it. “I wanted to be able to face myself with the decision.”

“I wish I had your wisdom sometimes,” Harry said. Hermione blushed as the world around them melded back into their hotel room. She closed her eyes before she stared into the mirror.

Her skin was still wrinkled and cracked. Her eyes still held the jaundice that was there before. Her hair was thin and wiry, as if it had never been combed before. Yet there was something different. She wasn't afraid anymore. Staring into her eyes, she could still see her thirst for knowledge, and want to help. She closed her eyes and turned around. She wanted to look at Harry, and see the man that he had become. The smile that crossed her face made her feel almost normal.

Harry had his back to here, so she couldn't see much difference between him and Fawkes. The weight of the world still rested upon his shoulders. His stance was still strong. It wasn't until he turned around did she see the man who he was.

His hair was shorter, much shorter, yet still managed to stick out at all ends. Gone were the glasses, but Hermione suspected he was truly wearing contacts or the magic equivalent. His jaw was stronger and the stubble made him look like a cowboy from one of those American Westerns her father loved. His eyes though, told her his care for her, and his smile hid the pain he felt for her to be like this. There was, though, nothing he could do to help her.

“If you promise to help me,” Hermione started, “I'll go back.”

“Why would I not help you?” Harry said with a smile. “Would you go back, even like this?”

“Like I said, if you help me, I will,” Hermione said. She walked back over to her chair and sat down in it. There was a tension in the air, but she wasn't as worried about it as she had been before.

“When have you ever asked for my help and I refused?” Harry said. “Now, do you want to continue my story, or work on your magic?”

“Is there a way to do both?” Hermione asked. “Go back into the trance, I mean.” Harry looked at her for a moment before nodding.

“I want you to be careful though, do not do anything there until you see me. You can explore, but that is it, don't interact with anything unless you absolutely have to,” Harry said. Hermione nodded, closing her eyes.

The beach and plains seemed so much easier to get to now. She didn't want to head out to the islands, not without Harry yet. Heading back toward the plains, she wanted to see if she could make it to the mountains. They kept calling to her, like there was something there for her to claim. It wasn't where she would find another strong source of mana; she might be able to use at times if she trained long enough. No, there was something else.

There was a commotion up ahead, and she almost wanted to run over there. But Harry's words were too reprehensible. She didn't know enough about this world. She didn't even think she was in control of any thing. She really wished she had her wand right now.

“Ma'am, what are you doing out here? Its not safe.” She spun to see a group of soldiers behind her. They were unlike any soldiers she had seen before. If anything, they were Roman gladiators, dressed in what they could find and armed even worse.

“Why not?” Hermione asked. She knew enough to defend herself, or at least she thought she did. The book did tell her of two spells. The disenchant that she had used earlier and a defensive spell that returned the object to its place of origin. That latter was blue, and she hopped to she'd be able to draw upon it out here. The distance she had traveled from the beach was much farther than she had thought it to be originally. She did not travel normally here, and she couldn't understand it. Harry had a lot of explaining to do when he finally showed up.

“We're under attack, you need to get out of here,” the soldiers said. Hermione didn't get a chance to respond.

Arrows began to fly in the direction of the mountain, as if something was coming that way. There was too, a spell of some sort that burned the air behind it as it flew toward her. A fireball that was descending upon soldiers as they fired ahead. She was pulled away as the fireball grew closer. The soldiers had made her decision for her, taking her by the arms and dragging her away.

The heat of the fireball was unlike she had ever felt before. The soldiers seemed to reflexively defend her without another thought. Harry had mentioned the summoning of soldiers, yet these were not hers.

No, they were someone else's, Harry's possible. She doubted that as well though. They were too rough with her; Harry would have been gentler, or at least she hoped he would have been.

Through the mess of soldiers fighting, she could see the greenish figures attacking the soldiers that stood in defense. Goblins. Not the ones she was familiar with, these were different as if devolved versions of the ones at Gringotts. There was an anger between the two of them unlike she had ever seen. There was no mercy, no compassion, no-

Her next conscious thought was that of the relative calm that had surrounded the plains. The fighting was over and the medics were nursing the wounds. On both sides.

“I thought I told you not to do anything.” Hermione looked to see Harry sitting next to her, a small smile on his face. “That included getting yourself hurt.”

“What happened?” He helped her up slowly, his arm around her waist. She didn't need to be steadied, but he didn't need to know that.

“They know now that I am not to be messed with,” Harry said.

“You...you were the fireball?” Her knees gave out, and he caught her once more. His grip had tightened, and she could not help but move closer into his body.

“Of course,” Harry said. “Damn bastards are always fighting, had to stop them somehow.

“What happened?” Hermione looked around as the goblins and soldiers were being carried off in separate directions. Many more goblins had fallen then soldiers, yet their numbers were much larger to begin with.

“Mana is energy Hermione, it balances through struggle, just like the rest of us,” Harry said with a light laugh. “Even allies fight from time to time, just to reassert their own powers. It happens.” He shrugged at this. “Ready to go to my place? To my side of the mountain?” His smile grew large at this as he lifted them off the ground. She curled in closer to him as he put his arms under her legs.

“How did you do that?” Hermione asked. He had his phoenix wings, though that was only part of him transformed.

“It comes with practice,” Harry said with a smile. “I've got a small villa on a plateau, we should be safe there for now.”

“Safe from what?” There was another explosion from behind them. She could make out the images of men attacking the soldiers and goblins who had survived.

“I've got issues,” Harry said with a sigh as he changed direction.

Looking around her, the mountains where much larger than any she had ever seen or heard of. In the distance was a mountain that stretched beyond the clouds and the sky. Smoke filled the air as she could have sworn she saw a dragon fly past them in the direction of the battle. He was right about the plateau though, it had settled in the middle of the mountain range, the tall grass and trees almost hiding the small house that Harry had erected.

He landed softly upon the grass, and Hermione could not stop at the building before her. There was sense of home to it, a sense that she belonged there. Shaking her head, she looked back at Harry as he moved toward the small lake he had created.

He was almost the exact same as he was before they had jumped to wherever they were. But he held himself a little stronger, a little bit more confident than she thought even he knew. There were so many questions.

“What happened that caused all this?” Hermione asked. Harry stood up from his knelt position, turning to look at her.

“When I first stepped back, I tried to study everything on time as I could, found out a few interesting things, but nothing more than I'd have to wait it out,” Harry said with a shrug. “I spent my time studying in the normal world to become a doctor. Worked for quite some time during the Depression free of charge. Some of the best work I ever done.”

“I'd like hear your stories sometimes, if you'd tell me them,” Hermione said. She took a step closer to him. She didn't want to scare him; he looked so much like a scared dog that would jump at any sudden movements. His back had turned toward her, his piercing gaze no longer looking at her soul.

“I'd like that too,” he turned to look at her again before his gaze fell onto the tallest peak, the one that disappeared into the clouds. “I did some traveling though, and stopped in France for a bit of a vacation. Nice people, decent food. I was there when it fell, and managed to escape long enough to join a resistance. I hadn't practiced magic in over ten years at this point, though I still knew how to. Just had no care to.” He waved his hand, a bench of stone rose from the ground. Hermione nearly fell over as she watched the ground shift back, as if there was no disruption to the grass. “You can sit if you want. The story is a long one.” She gave him a weak smile before taking him up on his offer.

Patting the seat next to her, Hermione could not help but feel the calm overcome her again. Like she was being protected against the evils of the world, just by sitting there. As Harry smiled at her, she knew she was protected. Better than anyone else could have done.

Harry sat and began to expunge everything that had happened to him during the second Great War. She didn't want to hear it, but knew that someone had to. The care she felt him was never greater than the moment when he told her that the hardest choice he ever made, was when there was the life of a child in his hands, and he had to let the child die. He wanted to help the babe so much, and he broke down against her as he tried to explain why he couldn't. Hermione only pulled him closer, knowing that had haunted him for so long, and it would continue to for a even longer time.

The war ended shortly after that incident, at least for Harry. He stopped practicing medicine for about five years after, choosing to instead study magic once again. That only lasted for a couple years when he went back to practicing medicine, this time in the States.

“It's how Grace found me,” Harry said. Hermione looked up at him from her position with her head upon his shoulder. She pulled his arm closer to her as he removed a locket from his jacket. “She was a causality of a drunk driving accident. Her mother died on the table, but I was able to save her. She didn't have anyone else, and we had talked a lot while she was recovering. Visited her every day.”

“She's beautiful,” Hermione said. The young girl had Harry's dark hair, and could easily pass for his daughter. Her eyes were blue though, a bright blue that almost matched the sky. Her smile in the photograph made Hermione want to smile even wider.

“She was,” Harry said. The silence lasted longer than Hermione thought possible. She was going to tell him he didn't have to talk about her if it hurt too much. But when was Harry known for listening to everything she thought? “It was mainly because of her that I stayed in one spot for so long. When she was finished with high school, I made her go to college. She was too smart to just take a menial job. She got accepted into a law program and began to study to become a lawyer.” He sighed though before slipping the locket around his neck. “I went off, traveling the world. Kept looking for something new to study. I never told her about the magical world, and maybe that was what made it so special with her. She didn't need that to think her father was a magician.”

“What happened to her?” Hermione asked. His hand was playing with the end of her jacket, which she didn't know how it got there, but wasn't complaining.

“She was working late one night,” Harry said. The tears were already resting in his eyes and she could wrap her arms around him tighter. “Despite my efforts, she didn't want to move to a nice part of the city. Kept saying that she had friends there that she wouldn't have anywhere else. I respected that, but made she had enough to protect herself. A tazer, some mace. Made sure she learned self-defense. Did everything I could, but it wasn't enough.” He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on her. He was trying to stay strong. “Some punk tried to take her purse. She...she was able to fight him off, but his friends....” He broke down here, pulling her almost onto his lap. It was several minutes before he was in control again. It was only then that Hermione noticed the storm that seemed to follow them. She began to whisper in his ears, telling him to let everything out. He sat up, still holding onto her, but he took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. It must have worked because the storm soon disappeared into nothing.

“Sorry,” Harry said. Hermione wanted to glare at him as he drew away from her, but only pulled him closer when he tried. “I haven't talked to anyone about it.”

“Then it was good that you got it off your chest,” Hermione said. She reached for the locket, giving him a shy look when he didn't pull away. Looking at the picture of Grace once more, she smiled to herself. “I think she would be proud of you.”

“Who?” Harry asked. His gaze was lost to the mountains again, and Hermione could not help feel her heart warm at the peace that crossed his face.

“Grace,” Hermione said. She pulled back to sit up on her own, waiting until Harry removed his arms from around her. Albeit he was rather slow to do so. “She'd be proud of you.” He however, just nodded. He stood a moment later, leaving her on the bench.

“I know, but its difficult, Hermione,” he said. “I mean, I have you for a family as well too, and hell I messed up, but when I was with Grace, I felt like I didn't have to go back. I felt at peace.” He needed to get this off his chest. He was gone a lot longer than five years, he was gone a lifetime. Could she learn to love him again, even if he was older than she could ever be? “Time is a cruel mistress. She decides for you how far you will go, what you be limited to know. She cares not for the beginning, begrudging you the safety of the womb. She cares not for the time spent in life, before you enter that silent tomb. How dare she declare that one life mean more? How dare she decide what my life has in store?” He turned back to look at her, his face now grim. “Do you know what I believe? I believe that each of us, has but one love in life. One person to share everything with. Yet we have many children. The love of the father knows no bounds, yet the love of the soul is constricted and contorted if it should ever look away.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?” Hermione asked. She didn't want to know if he found another to love when he left. He shook his head, turning back to look at the mountain.

“There is when time separates them,” Harry said. He stared at the mountain again, and Hermione could not help but wonder why he did so. What was hidden there that he wanted so much. “Its hard to hold onto something through time, and its even harder to let go after holding on for so long.”

“Do you want to let go?” Hermione asked. She stood, walking over to him. The air was filled with the smoke and ash of the dragons that seemed to always be passing by, yet there still was something comfortable about the air. Something comfortable about Harry.

“No, I don't,” Harry said. He turned to look at her, his smile forced. “You wanted to know where I learned about this, and here I am rattling on about something that really doesn't matter.” He turned away, brushing away what had to be tears. “Now, what do you want to know?” Hermione stared at him for a moment, trying to remember all the questions she had to ask him. All she could see was a man, tortured by his own words and mind for more time than she could imagine.

“I'd like to know how you do it?” Hermione asked.

“Its rather simple really,” Harry said with a smile. “All this mana, I can draw upon. As far as the eye can see then even farther. Because the mana isn't really here, it's inside of me. Here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Its a reflection of my personal and subconscious beliefs.” That wasn't the answer Hermione was looking for, but she'd get it out eventually from him. “Same as the island and the plain is a reflection of yours.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione looked back to where they came from. Now she could see the islands that didn't seem so far off.

“I mean that your passion for knowledge and strict need for order is embodied within the islands and plains. More so knowledge than order I'd say, you've broken enough rules in your time,” Harry said. Hermione blushed lightly at the remark. “Which is why you have a few mountains under your control as well, but the use of them is likely to wait until you are able to fully use your islands, then plains.”

“Then why could I use the white spell first?” Hermione asked.

“Because you haven't been close enough to any islands. Come here,” Harry said, motioning her closer. He held out his arms, as if for her to slid right into them. She could not hold back the smile that formed at his motions. There was nothing that made her doubt that he cared for her.

She wrapped her arms around his stomach, picturing that beach once again. He was right, there was something about that area that made her feel safe. “Wonderful job.” She opened her eyes, looking up at him. They were back upon the beach, though now the mountains were as close as they were the first time Hermione had arrived. “Ready to practice?”

“Practice what?” Harry just smiled for a moment before stepping back. He waved his arm in the direction of the mountains, a red flash being pulled back as he drew his hand toward them again. Hermione covered her ears as a loud squeal echoed down toward them.

“Ib should be joining us right about,” a goblin crashed in front of them, “now.” The goblin jumped to his feet, looking around menacingly, or at least trying to. His dazed expression left him looking nothing more than stupid. His metal helmet was askew and he appeared to be trying to direct one thing or another.

“What's he trying to do?” Hermione asked.

“Summon some other goblins to his location,” Harry said. “So what are you going to do?”

“Me?” Hermione asked, taking a step back as Ib looked at her.

“Yes, you,” Harry said. “You can destroy some enchantments with white mana. Well, here there is no white mana. What was the second skill that I said we'd teach you?”

“The blue one ,the one that returns a thing to its place of origin,” Hermione said. She moved closer to Harry, trying to get away from the goblin.

“Good, draw the mana and perform the spell,” Harry said.

“What? I don't know how to do that?” Hermione looked back at the goblin, its gaze fixed upon her now.

“Hermione, just relax,” Harry said. He took her arms that had been holding onto his stomach, which she had no idea how they did that. She told them explicitly not to do such things. He moved her in front of him, holding her steady. “I want you to think about something that calms you. Think about the knowledge you have and the calming motions of the sea. Cup your hands together, and draw those thoughts together into a single motion of energy.”

Staring at the goblin, she still had no idea what to do. Taking a step forward, she did the only thing she could think of; she did what Harry had asked her to do. Hermione had no idea about the knowledge of this place, only that the magic was within her, so that meant the knowledge to do what she needed to was within her as well.

She ran her fingers over the air around her, feeling something dragging behind with them. Cupping her hands, she drew them toward her chest, holding the substance together. Opening her eyes, she nearly screamed as the goblin approached her. Out of reflex, she took a step back, stumbling over something and releasing the substance she had held onto.

“Now that's more like it,” Harry said with a laugh. Hermione watched as the goblin took off in the direction of the mountains, as well as a great deal of the sand and rocks that had surrounded the goblin. “Control will come over time. But that was still a great start.”

“What did I do?” Hermione asked. She took Harry's out stretched hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

“You started yourself down another road of magic,” Harry said with a smile. “I believe now we should pick up Ron, and head back.” The world around them faded away to the room that Harry had taken them to in the first place. Now though, she was resting upon the bed, Harry looming over her, brushing some of her hair out of the way.

“Harry?” She reached out, touching his cheek lightly. Why did he have to move on?

“I've been gone a long time Hermione, but I'm back,” Harry said with a sad smile. It was almost like he was saying goodbye again, but it wasn't to her. “Would you give up love for your beauty?”

Hermione looked at him, trying to figure out what he meant. She was already without her looks, and she was already in love. With him no less. Not that she wanted to be; she fought that emotion every damn step of the way. But no... she had to go ahead and fall in love with the git.

“What I mean is, if you had to give up the love of your life for your beauty, would you?” Harry's hand moved to her hair, running through it slightly. It didn't feel as dry or tangled as he touched it, as if his hands were healing the hair as he touched her.

“No,” Hermione said. “but that doesn't mean that I'll fall in love.” She stared at him as he looked down upon her.

“Your spirit is strong, Hermione, it always was,” Harry said. “You've been fighting yourself for so long that I guess you forgot that part of you.” She had to turn slightly to look at him now as she lay beside her. His gaze went straight through her, right to her soul. “I can fix this, Hermione, but you have to understand.”

“Understand what?” Hermione asked. Harry definitely had turned into a Dumbledore with age. Him and his damn riddles.

“That if you were to regain your beauty, you would be locked in,” Harry said. He turned away from her at this point, getting off the bed completely. He must have realized how close they were, and how ugly-wait!

“What?” Hermione sat up as his words sank in. “Locked?”

“Trapped, without escape,” Harry said. “Could you accept that? Accept being bonded to someone else?”

“Harry?” Hermione sat up with a slight laugh. “What worse could there be than Voldemort?” She looked at him.

“How about a life with someone you barely know?” Harry said. “With someone who's life is half over right now.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?” Hermione said. “Who is this person that you're talking about?” Harry took another step back, before turning away. He was nervous, it must have to do this person. He had said something earlier about breaking bonds with another bond, and then something about a phoenix's bond.... “Harry, are you talking about yourself?” He nodded, though, still not looking at her. “You talking about bonding yourself to me? Why?”

“Because, I can't stand to see you like you are now,” Harry said. She felt an anger grow inside her, but that was quickly put down by the endowment. He was right, she was ugly, she was disgusting, she was - “Broken. Like you could barely hold yourself up. That's not the Hermione I know, that's not the Hermione that made me hate myself for leaving in the first place.” Hermione looked at him, the fear gone from her. “I want that Hermione back. I want my Hermione back.” She stared at him for a few moments, trying to gather her remaining courage.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want fix you Hermione, I want you to fix you,” Harry said. He had finally turned to look at her, the care and pain evident in his eyes. He looked almost the age that his soul was. “But most of all, I want you to know that no matter what, you have to be happy. That's all I've really cared about.” Hermione looked down at her feet, trying to figure out his words. She needed to make a decision. Harry obliviously wasn't going to so it was up to her.

“What do you need me to do?”

-->

Chapter Nine: For Who Do the Bell Tolls?

Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives. A. Sachs

Ron looked up at Harry as he apparated into his room, though he wasn't alone this time. “HERMIONE!” He jumped from his seat, surprised to see the two of them so soon. Harry had said that it would be a day, maybe two, but it had been only a little over twelve hours. “You're okay?”

“Yeah,” she said with a shy smile. There was blush upon her face as she looked up at Harry. “Harry made sure of that.” Ron looked between the two of them for a moment. Something had gone on that he wasn't privy too, something that redefined the boundaries between the two of them.

“Where was she?” Ron asked, turning to look at Harry. He had wandered toward the vine walls that were still standing. They had sprouted flowers now and he was looking over them, as if to ignore them. Or maybe just give Hermione her space.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. When Harry had first returned, there was a sense a maturity around him, that nearly exuded from his pores or something. Now though, he looked like a damn teenager or something. “She was right where I thought she was.”

“And where was that?” Ron asked. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione beat him to it.

“It doesn't matter Ron, all that matters is I'm safe and we can get back to the castle,” Hermione said.

“You'll tell me later then at least?” They were definitely hiding something, something that had happened between them. It had to be personal, otherwise Hermione would have shared it with him. Or at least he thought she would have.

“Hermione can you return this to it rightful place?” Harry had gone back to looking at the vined walls.

“I'm not sure,” she said. She moved over to his side, not too close, but close enough that Harry catch her if she needed to be caught. Maybe Ron was just being paranoid. That seemed like a very reasonable explanation. He was just being paranoid.

“Unsummon it, return the vines to their place of origin,” Harry said. He had turned to look at her. No Ron wasn't being paranoid. Something between the two of them had definitely happened. Now was just not the time to attend to that problem.

He couldn't see what Hermione was doing, but it he had to guess, which at this point was his only option with those two, he would say she was pooling mana to use. He nearly fell backwards as the burst of blue light sent a shockwave through the room.

He felt his jaw drop as he watched the vines retreat to the potted plant that he had summoned them from in the first place. The vines were there one moment then shifted away the next. “How....what.....how?”

“It's polite to finish a sentence Ron before starting a new one,” Harry said. Then Hermione did something she hadn't for five years. She giggled. Now his jaw felt like it had hit the floor.

“Ron, you okay? You don't look so good,” Hermione said. Ron just shook his head.

“I'm fine, we going back to Hogwarts?” Ron asked, changing the conversation. Something had gone on between them, and he would find out about it.

“In a few, I want to show you two something first,” Harry said. He grabbed the bag that was left in the room for Ron when he had first arrived. “You two up for some dinner? I know a few places we could go.” Now food, there was something that would make this day a whole lot less confusing.

“I'm up for it mate, you've still got a world of explaining to do,” Ron said. Harry laughed lightly as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

“You'll be disappointed then I'm afraid,” he walked out the door, leaving Hermione and Ron watching him as he left.

“So what happened?” Ron asked. He turned to look at Hermione, who was still looking at the door where Harry left.

“He found me,” Hermione said. “They took something away from me, and he found me, and put it back Ron.” For the first time, Ron could remember, Hermione was acting like a star-struck fan. But it wasn't just that. Whatever Harry had done had touched her in a way that left her short of breath. Left her speechless and in awe of something....

“Did you two....?” He let his voice trail off. That seemed to be the shock that Hermione needed to snap out of whatever funk she was in.

“What? NO? How could you? Why would you?” Hermione turned, slapping his arm as she tried to finish a sentence. “Harry never would do that to me.” There was a pause there, like she was adding something in her mind. The blush only confirmed it, but he wisely didn't say anything. “He just made sure that I was okay, then brought me back here.”

“What happened to that old lady he was with?” Ron asked. Hermione's eyes narrowed a bit as she stared at him before she spoke.

“Harry made sure she found her way home,” Hermione said. There was silence then that he knew Hermione was thinking, about what, well that was too far away from his grasp of the female persona to understand. Hermione was first to break the ice, which he was grateful for. “Where did you learn to put up those vines?”

“Huh? Oh.” He looked around, trying to find the book that Harry left. He had left it on the bed, halfway open through the chapter he was reading.

“Ron, how could you leave a book like that?” Hermione immediately went over to the bed, lifting the book up of the awkward position. It was then that Harry walked back into the room, now dressed in a tailored suit.

“Seems things are getting back to normal,” Harry said with a smile. Ron could only chuckle as he realized that Harry had grown up more than any of them. “You ruining another book again, Ron?”

“Yes, but I think the damage isn't too bad,” Hermione said. She still had her back to him, and he really wanted to see her reaction to Harry when she looked at him.

Yep, her shocked look and blush was enough for him to know that she wasn't over him. She never was, and now Harry seemed to be falling for her too. Good, they both deserved a little happiness. Now he just needed to find some of his own.

“Ready?”

“All set,” Ron said. He tossed Harry the book, not surprised to see him catch it with easy before placing it into the bag. “Where we going?”

“Well, first for something to eat, our ride is already waiting outside,” Harry said. Hermione nodded before walking out the door. Harry was closely following her, his eyes flickering across the room as if watching out for anyone that might attack her again. Ron let out a sigh of relief, nothing would happen to her, Harry would sooner die then let that happen.

Ron walked next to Harry, stopping to look at the man. “You going to take care of her?” Harry had been watching Hermione leave, concentrating on that. His head snapped in Ron's direction.

“What?”

“ With you back, I'm never going to have a chance, I don't think I had one in the first place,” Ron said. He looked out the door where Hermione just left and could not help but feel a little pain in his heart. “I love her Harry, I really do.”

“Ron, I'm sorry, I.....” His voice trailed off, and again Harry was looking out the door at Hermione.

“Don't say a damn thing Harry, just don't,” Ron said. “I can't love her the way she deserves. But...” Ron took one look at Harry, knowing that the unspoken statement hit the man hard. He knew that Harry could love her the way she deserves, and she could in turn love him. Took him five bloody years to admit that to himself, and it still didn't feel as bad as he thought it would.

He walked out the door, and found Hermione at the end of the hallway, waiting for them. She had already pushed the button, and he had finally taken the chance to look around.

The Muggle world was fine, despite the lack of information that Hogwarts had been left with. Their contact with the outside world was almost none, and very limited at best. He had not been out of Hogwarts since the attack on the Burrow, and that was nearly five years ago. He didn't really know what to expect once he got out of the lift, maybe some of the horror stories that the army told them were true.

“Wands out I reckon,” he said. Hermione nodded, knowing the same horror stories that he did.

“Really, the world goes on without the magic world to protect it,” Harry said with a laugh. “You can put those away. You're not going to need them.”

“You mean its fine out there?” Ron was slow to put his away, but Hermione only had to hear Harry's words to believe him. Though she did move closer to him as they stepped into the lift.

“Of course; I had to make a call earlier, but we're meeting someone for lunch today,” Harry said with a rather large smile.

“Who?” Hermione asked, looking just as confused as Ron felt. Harry looked at her for a moment before he turned away.

“I'm a dumbass, but the answer was in your letters, I forgot you didn't know,” Harry said. “I don't know who took them Hermione, but I'll find out.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, he was looking between the two of them, trying to catch up on the conversation that he had lost.

“I sent Hermione several letters while I was away, telling her how to reach me, how to contact them, when I didn't receive any replies, well, I thought that you had forgotten about me.” Harry wasn't facing them; almost like he was ashamed, but of what?

“Who's them?” Ron managed to ask. Hermione was still in shock, staring at Harry as if she didn't, he'd disappear.

“Well, I guess you're going to have to wait,” Harry said. He was smiling now, but Hermione only frowned at him. Pouted might have been a better term for it actually. The rest of the ride in the lift was silent, but Harry spoke again once they reached the bottom. “I probably should have transfigured your clothes as well, since the place is pretty upscale where we're going to.”

“I'll do it,” Hermione quickly said. Quickly Ron's clothes became a Muggle tuxedo, and her robes were turned into a emerald green dress that matched Harry's tie. The lift doors opened, and Ron felt the rush of the fall air hit him.

He hadn't seen this many people in one place for quite some time, since before the war began. Muggles, just running about their everyday business like nothing was going on. The world seemed calmer, if not cleaner than the one he remembered. Had the world really not changed that much? Then why did he feel so much older?

He hurried after Harry and Hermione as they walked through the crowd toward the entrance to the hotel. Which was huge. Ron would have stopped and stared some more had Harry not grabbed his arm and nearly throw him into limo.

“Good morning Mr Evans, where to today?” Ron just smiled as Hermione fainted into Harry's arms. Yep, she definitely wasn't expecting a personal chauffeur.

I0I

Harry made idle talk as they rode along the roads. Neither of his friends noticed them cross the pond between them and the colonies. Especially when they landed in Chicago. He hoped his surprise was going to turn out alright, he didn't want Hermione to suffer anymore than she already had. Hermione...

Looking at her as she talked with Ron, he could not help but smile lightly. She had made her choice, a choice that included him. While he shouldn't have been surprised, he was. He knew the surprise would be a good thing for her, something that would help raise her spirits.

He had taken to playing with a little reading while the two of them talked. Mainly about the magic he had taught them, new magic that they were just learning about.

“Harry? Weren't you listening to me?” Hermione said. He looked up from his book, sliding the bookmark back into it.

“Nope,” Harry said with a smile. She glared at him, but he knew there was no anger behind those eyes.

“I asked how much longer,” Hermione said. Her glare was gone as he check his watch.

“In less then five seconds,” he said.

“How can you know that mate?” Ron asked. Edgar's voice answered the question by saying they were currently parked in front of the restaurant.

“Coco Pazzo?” Hermione asked as Harry got out of the car. He offered his hand which she took immediately as she gracefully stepped out.

“I figured if we were going to go out, might as well go all out,” Harry said. He turned to Ron, tucking Hermione's hand in his elbow as he did so. She moved closer to him, blushing lightly.

“They have good food?” Ron asked, moving to Harry's other side.

“Best Italian in town,” Harry said with a smile. “Don't worry about anything, its all on me tonight. Just relax and enjoy yourselves.” He began to walk slowly through the entrance, letting Hermione set the pace mainly. “You ready for the surprise?” Harry asked softly. She turned away from looking around the room, and jumped at how close they were.

“Is it for me?” Hermione stared up at him for a moment. He could not help the smile that accompanied the nod as he looked down at her.

“Who would you like to see at this moment?” Harry asked, stopping for a moment. Ron had gone off to the bathroom as soon as they entered, leaving him a chance to talk to her. Thankfully.

“Besides you?” Hermione said with a tell-tale blush on her face. He nodded, blushing as well. She turned into him that moment, not touching him, just facing him.

“Two people who want nothing more than to know that their loved one is safe,” Harry said with a smile. Taking her hand, he led her the private room that had obtained. Hermione stopped when his words sank in, right outside the room.

“Harry?” She looked up at him, pain pasted there every so softly. He brought his hand up to her cheek, brushing it lightly. She leaned into his hand and smiled.

“It'll get better, I promise, you'll get used to the connection,” he whispered. He knew that he had some power and assertion over her now, that wasn't there before. Yet she was stronger then she was before as well.

“What if I don't want it to get better?” Hermione said, her eyes glinting mischievously. “What if I like this connection?” She turned and entered private room, the sense of something wonderful just outside his mind. She must have known he was watching her as her hips moves that way. She was going to be the death of him.

“So what's this surprise?” Ron asked, walking over to Harry as he watched the doors close behind Hermione.

“Wait for it,” Harry said. Hearing the squeal, he just smiled at Ron before entering the room.

“Who are they?” Ron asked. Hermione was hugging both an older man and woman, the woman looked like Hermione except for the eyes, which somehow she got from her father. The man was about Harry's height, though his hair was balding and grayer.

“Her parents Ron, her parents,” Harry said with a large smile. He had done everything that was in his power to keep them safe. If but only for this moment.

“How...?” The confusion on Ron's face was priceless.

“There are things stronger in this world than magic Ron,” Harry said before walking over to the Granger's group hug.

“Harry, I can't tell you how much it means to me,” Dan Granger said as the two women were still embrace. Hermione was openly crying now, but she was happy. That was all he had ever wanted.

“Sir, the looks are your face were enough payment,” Harry said. He motioned toward the table that had been set up for them. “We can talk about this over dinner if that's quite alright.” Ron took off for a seat, obviously ready for something to eat. Harry and Dan let out a loud laugh at his antics before Harry motioned for the Grangers to take a seat as well. Dan took his wife's arm before leading her to her seat. He never even noticed Hermione launch herself at him as him. He would have fallen if he hadn't felt the tickle over something over their connection.

“Thank you,” she said as she pulled her head out of his neck. He could feel the tears turn cool against his skin, but he didn't mind. Holding her closer, he tried not to smile to himself as she put almost all of her body weight onto his. “How...why...how?” He placed his finger on her lips, stopping her from asking any more questions.

“Dinner first,” Harry said. She nodded, but made no move to remove her arms from around his neck. He closed his eyes as he felt her touch over the connection. The warmth was unlike anything else he had ever felt in his life. He leaned closer to her, resting his head on top of hers. Opening them up once again, he caught the same mischievous smile on her face as he saw before. “How?”

“I'm a quick study,” Hermione said before kissing his cheek and letting him go. He was really going to have to sit down and talk about this with her soon. Steps forward couldn't always be retraced. Hermione took the empty seat next to her mother, her father taking his next to her. Hermione gave her father a smile before glancing over in his direction. Harry couldn't help but smile back, sending over a little reassurance to her through the connection. Her smile grew just enough for him to notice the difference, and immediately she began to talk with her mother.

“Harry, you're the one that's brought us here together,” Dan said, “you going to take a seat?” Harry let out a chuckle as he walked over, taking the seat between Ron and Stacy, Hermione's mother.

“This is a pretty big place,” Ron said. Harry only smiled as he motioned for the waiter to start with the glasses of water and bread.

“Usually used for parties and such I guess, really don't know,” Harry said with a shrug. “Order what you want, its all really good.” The waiter passed out the menus, letting them out to the women first before

“Harry, how can you afford all this?” Ron managed to ask. He hadn't even opened his menu, and neither had Hermione for that matter. Dan and Stacy had though; they were currently going through it.

“I invested well, and I was a doctor,” he said before closing his menu. “Knowing when to get out of the dotcoms was a blessing in disguise.”

“He was able to set us up with a practice here as well, ended up growing much larger than the one we had back in London,” Stacy said. “We made him a silent partner when he set us up with the account.”

“After that, we talked about setting up several accounts, he ended up buying several companies, interests in others, on our advice.” Dan had already chosen his meal for the evening. There was a moment of silence as Ron and Hermione went about looking at the menus. Harry had made sure to give them ones without prices. Price was never put upon happiness, and it never should be.

“But why didn't you contact me?” Hermione finally said. Harry knew the question was going to come, and knew of course, that Hermione would have been the one to ask it. Her parents were not going to broach the subject.

“That would be my fault,” Harry said. “I had told them to wait for you to get in touch with them first. Only if you were safe and you could do so without getting anyone hurt. Told you how to do it as well. Guess that fell threw.” He scratched the back of his neck, not meeting Hermione's eyes. He knew what her unasked question was. “And what happened to the letters, I have an idea, but I've got to wait a while before I make accusations.”

“Why didn't you keep sending them? Or even to anyone else?” Ron asked. Looking over at him, Harry knew that he was right. He could have sent them to someone else, like Ron, but something stopped him. It didn't seem right to not tell Hermione he was okay first. He had no answer for that question.

“I don't know,” he said, more to himself than anyone else at the table. He didn't really hear any more after that, at least for a while. He couldn't bear to look at Hermione at the moment. She could have had her parents for five years, if he had just sent those letters to someone else. Would that person have even told her though? How could-

“Harry?” Everyone was watching him. They must have directed a question at him, yet he couldn't tell what the question was or even who asked him. Hermione however, had the grace enough to tell him what he missed. “What are you having?” He looked to his left to waiter, patiently waiting for him.

“Sorry, lost in thought,” he said with a smile. “I'll have the papardelle cinghiale please. With just a water.” He handed the menu off, turning back to try and pay attention to the conversations going on. Dan and Stacy were going over any and everything that happened to them over the last five years and Hermione was trying to update them on their world. He had to say trying because there were just some things that words could not explain.

“You okay mate?” Ron asked, leaning over to him as the Grangers were talking.

“I'd be lying if I said I was,” he said. He leaned back in his chair, lowering his voice to the level that only Ron could hear it. “We've got a lot of work to do when we get back to Hogwarts. And I'm without the majority of my magic.” Ron nodded, understanding the predicament he was now in. “I can still hold my own in any fight, but those crazy heroics you saw before Hermione vanished on us... don't expect to see them again for a good twenty years or so.”

“Don't sweat, you don't have to rely on just yourself anymore, you've got us now mate,” Ron said. “With that new training you're giving us, then there is nothing that can stop us.”

“Ours is not to question why, ours is to do or die,” Harry said with a sad smile. “We'll do what we can, but there are certain things that will happen. Things that I won't allow.”

“What you don't have in age and wisdom, we make up with youth and stupidity,” Ron said. Harry could not help but smile at the statement.

“Ron, we're not stupid and you know it,” Hermione said, chastising him.

“Harry does have a point though, honey,” Stacy said. “We've had this discussion several times, and all we can come up with is that Hogwarts has to reopen. If only to be a bastion of light for the world.”

“You talked him into doing this?” Hermione looked at her mother before turning to her father.

“Who do you think talked him into going back in the first place?” Dan said with a smile. “If it hadn't been for the attack here, I doubt Harry would have ever gone back.”

“I would have gone back, just maybe not for a few more years,” Harry admitted. His two friends needed to hear this, and he was glad that he wasn't telling the story. His life outside of them was still difficult for him to talk about. Wounds that never would really heal.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, still staring at Harry. He shifted under her gaze, but found that he could not speak.

“About this time last year, Harry was in New York,” Stacy said. He gave her a thankful glance; they both knew the story. They had comforted him afterwards. “I'm not surprised that you two don't know about the attack. Something horrible, one of the most tragic things I've every seen.”

“And Harry was in the middle of it,” Dan added. Stacy was beginning to tear up at the words, and Harry took a look at Dan before taking the woman's hand in his own. When he had first met them, he found the Grangers to be warm and inviting people. It was why he had done everything he could to save them. Why he sent Hermione those letters telling her how to reach her parents.

Stacy gave him a grateful look before nodding to let Dan know she was okay. “A fundamentalist group attack the Twin Towers in New York on September 11^th. Two planes collided with the towers, before they both collapsed. Another plane was flown into the Pentagon, the military center for the United States. Almost three thousand people were killed.”

“But what's that got to do with Harry?” Hermione asked, looking at him.

“I was in one of the towers,” Harry said. He turned away from their looks, not wanting to see their pity. He had enough of it following the war.

If he had been looking up, he would have noticed Hermione getting out of her chair. He would have noticed her walk over to him and stare directly at him. But because he hadn't, it wasn't until she had decided to sit in his lap that he broke out of his stupor.

“I'm not moving even if dinner comes,” Hermione said, taking his hands before wrapping them around her stomach. He sent a gentle caress over their link, thanking her because he could not find the words.

There was nothing more that he wanted to do than to hold her after the war and after the attack, but he couldn't. Maybe now he should start making up for lost time. The line of questions was dropped and lighter notes were brought up again. Like Hermione studying to become a Healer.

While Harry could have been one as well, he believed that Hermione would have been better suited for the job. She had the mind for all of those inane facts; took him years to remember everything that he needed to know.

“You know that you don't have to sit in my lap the entire night,” Harry whispered into her ear. Hermione looked at him over her shoulder before looking at her mother. The smile on her face had him worried until Stacy moved over one seat, leaving hers open.

“You can't get rid of me that easily,” Hermione said as she moved over. “We still have a lot to talk about.” Her smile had melted away his shell on more than one occasion. This just happened to be another one of those occasions.

“Don't we always?” Harry asked through the blush on his face. She took his hand in her own, not letting it go even as the meal was placed in front of him.

“Something going on between you two?” Dan asked, lightening the mood even more. Harry blushed and looked down at his plate. He had known the man for five years now, even told Dan of his interest in Hermione. Harry could and had faced down some on the foulest creatures known to man without a drop of fear in him. Yet he could barely face Hermione's father. Dan was a friend, but Hermione's father near scared him shitless.

“Yes, but we're still figuring it out,” Hermione responded. He looked at her, letting their links spread a little further than it was before.

“Good to hear,” Dan said, much to both of their surprise. Looking at Hermione for a moment, he took the statement without question.

Everyone had settled into quiet conversation, not really talking about anything. They were avoiding subjects like the plague, and as he finished his plate, he figured it was time to confront at least one of the topics.

“What do you plan on doing now?” Harry managed to ask once there was a lull in the conversation.

“Continue on with the practice,” Dan said. “Maybe convince Hermione to come help us, but I doubt that will happen.” Hermione shook her head, but gave her father a smile.

“I'm going to be where I'm needed the most,” Hermione said. Harry squeezed her hand, letting her know he was thankful for that.

“What if I could offer you a way to stay with her? At Hogwarts?” Harry said, reaching for his glass of water. By the time he had put it back down, the Grangers were ready to respond. He just wasn't going to let them. “Hogwarts is going to reopen, now though, catering to the ages 6 to 17. We are going to teach the basics. Reading, writing, arithmetic, and the sciences. I want children to appreciate learning, before we teach them magic.” He felt all of the eyes look upon him. Work would get done now.

“What do you want us to do?” Stacy asked after sharing a look with her husband.

“I want you to teach some classes for me,” harry said. “The basics, really. And maybe even World studies too.”

“World studies?” Hermione asked. He gave her a smile, knowing she hadn't heard of the class before.

“Yes, Muggle studies will be changing its name,” Harry said. “It also will be a mandatory class that every student must take from first year to at least fifth. There will be no OWL. If I have to, I'll teach the class, but my views are tainted. I want someone with a more purified view to teach the class.” He looked at Hermione, giving her a smile as he felt the gears turning in her head. She had figured it out.

“He wants one of you to teach the class,” Hermione said.

“Why? What do we know about the magical world?” Dan asked. Stacy was looking just as confused, but Ron too seemed to figure out his intent.

“Nothing, and that's what makes it perfect for you two,” Ron said. “Our world needs to figure out that outside influence is what is going to keep it alive.”

“I thought the school was closed though,” Dan said.

“Think of it as my Christmas present to the world,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair. He let go of Hermione's hand, and felt a tinge of sadness cross the bond they shared. Crossing his arms, he stared at them all. He did not speak for a moment, but knew that he had their attention. “My gift is the hope for tomorrow. A hope for a better tomorrow.”

I0I

It was an hour after they finished dinner, and her parents had accepted the job offers from Harry. How he managed to protect them for so long was still a mystery, or at least it was until they stepped out of the restaurant. She recognized the Sears Tower from several books she had read about America, though she had never expected to just show up there. Let alone Chicago. Maybe New York, or Washington D.C. But not Chicago.

“We need to get a move on,” Harry said. She snapped out of the daze she was in. “I promise we'll come back so you can sightsee some other time.” He was right next to her, how did he do that? And when did she wrap her arm around his waist? She hadn't' told them to do that. And now that it was there, she certainly wasn't going to tell it to move. He was holding her closer. Her Harry was holding her closer.

“I'd like that,” Hermione said. “So when were you going to open the castle?”

“Christmas,” Harry said, guiding her back to the limo he had brought. The man was just full of surprises. “I'm going to be working on the wards and stuff, mainly expanding them. The process is going to be long, but I'm sure I can handle it.”

“What do you want me to do, continue the research?” Hermione asked. He had opened the door to the car for her, forcing her to let go of him. Climbing in while keeping her dignity, Hermione smiled at her parents in thanks. They had left the only two open seats next to each other. For her and Harry.

“I was thinking of you helping me,” Harry said as he climbed in after her. “Edgar, Hogsmeade please.”

“Yes sir,” came the reply. The car took off at a moderate pace, but there was no difference to the inside. Quite the opposite to the Knight Bus actually.

“So what do you say?” Harry said. “You think you up for the challenge of learning a little more of that magic I taught you?”

“Really?” Hermione turned to look at him directly. She felt the bubbling inside of her grow at the thought of learning more about that magic. While she had hoped to control the spells better before using them, and maybe not have to fall into that trance, the sound of something new seemed even better. He could teach her just about everything her knew about magic. “Can I learn how to be a totem too?” His eyes grow dark at this, and she wanted to flinch away, but she wasn't afraid. Not of him. Never of him.

“I can't not, nor will I ever teach you,” Harry said. The light in his eyes was gone, as was the smile on his face.

“Why not? You don't think I could handle it?” Hermione set her face in her best glare.

“No,” Harry said. He turned his body away from her, and the feeling of him being with her left. She hadn't noticed his presence from the link until it was gone. Turning away from him, Hermione tried hard not to feel cold. She wrapped her arms around her chest and held back the shiver that ran through her.

The weight of something was added to her shoulders as she felt the link open again. Harry had put his jacket over her shoulders. The cold was gone, as was the emptiness. She however, was still angry with him. If he was looking for a response from her, he was going to wait.

The ride back was quiet, or at least she didn't hear anything. Her anger at Harry for deciding what she could and couldn't do was something she wasn't going to stand for. If they were going to have a relationship, like she thought they were going to work at, he was going to have to learn that.

Harry was different than the one she remember, but she was different too. Well, at least she thought she was. She certainly felt stronger, and more capable with her actions. And the limo pulled to the gates of Hogwarts, she could not help but think the same for everything about Hogwarts.

Everything was cleaner, purer, safer. Had she really been gone that long? The grass was greener, without that soot that seemed to seep into everything since Riddle's attack. They had tried everything to remove the soot, yet Harry must have done this. Somehow...

“You do this Harry?” Hermione asked as he began to walk toward the school. He nodded, but kept his back to her.

“What's wrong with him?” Hermione said, turning toward her mother. Her mom's eyes just held sadness, and Hermione could not help the tears that sprung forth in her own. “I didn't do something wrong.”

“I'm afraid you did, love,” she said, wrapping her arm around her daughter. “He is an old soul, and what he has done, he has sacrificed a lot of who he was to become that man you see there.” Harry was now telling her father about Hogwarts. She and her mother were walking at a much slower pace. Ron must have run ahead to warn the Order of their arrival.

“But why won't he teach me?” Hermione asked. Her mom had heard their argument in the limo, she heard just about everything.

“Maybe because he knows the cost, and he is unwilling to let you lose that part of you,” Stacy said. “He is a proud man, that won't admit his faults, Hermione. But he will die before he lets someone else make them.” Hermione nodded, and caught Harry's eye as he looked over at them. He quickly turned away, but that didn't stop her from seeing the care in them.

“You think he'll talk to me?” Hermione looked back at her mother. A smile was her answer, though she really didn't know what that meant. “I guess I'll have to talk to him first.” She let out a sigh before looking at Harry again. He was still an enigma to her, yet something about him...

“You may want to make your move soon,” Stacy said. She pointed toward a mass of red heads coming toward Harry and Dan. With another sigh, Hermione took off at a slow run toward Harry, saddling up next to him before anyone could say anything, including him.

Looking up at him, she sent a silent apology to him before giving him a look. He just nodded and smile at her. They were going to speak later, that much was sure.

He held up a hand, stopping the Weasleys from coming any closer. With his other, he wrapped around her shoulder, holding her closer. “Have you continued working, like I instructed?”

“Yeah, we've nearly finished the repairs to the school, and we've put up what wards we could,” McGonagall said. He nodded, looking at the people surrounding them now. If Hermione wanted to be honest with herself, she would have had to say that she did not know if everyone was outside to meet them, but that was because she was still concentrating on Harry. If she wanted to be honest with herself.

“I'll take care of the remainder of the wards tomorrow, if that's alright,” Harry said. “To be honest, I'm surprised that everyone is still up.”

“We were waiting for you to return,” Arthur said. “Can you tell us what happened?” Hermione now turned to look out at the crowd, surprised slightly at the amount of people that cared about her. They just never seemed to express concern for her any other time. Another thing she wanted to talk to Harry about. After their fight.

“Riddle has one less pawn to play with at this point in time,” Harry said. “There will be an Order meeting tomorrow, after lunch. Hermione, Ron, you don't have to go. If that is all, then I'm going to-”

“You are going to do nothing until you explain yourself to me,” Molly said through the crowd. It parted ways, letting her be seen.

“He has nothing to say to you,” Hermione said, surprising herself. And the rest of the crowd it seemed as they all were not looking at her. That would have stopped her before, but her confidence had returned, and she brought friends. Like love. “He's done more for us in the short month that he's been here then you've done in five years. So if he decides not to tell you something, then sod off.”

“You heard the lady,” Harry said. She felt the pulling sensation of a portkey as he popped them into her room. It took her a moment to snap out of her daze before she turned and hit him across the chest.

“Prat, why you snap us out of there?” Hermione said, stepping out of his grasp.

“You wanted to talk, I wanted to do it in private,” Harry said. Grim lifted his head off the bed where he was sleeping before placing it onto Harry's lap as he sat down. “You been guarding the library for us?” The dog's rather large yawn had to suffice for an answer. “So talk.”

Hermione shook her head, snapping out from the power of his gaze. It was like Riddle's, but safer, better, homelier. It made her feel loved. She wouldn't mind getting lost under the gaze some other time, but now was her chance to be angry with him.

“Why can't I learn to be a totem? Is it because I'm not strong enough?” Hermione asked. She was not going to give him a chance to respond. “I stood on my own for five years Harry, without you. I could probably hold my own against any of the Death Eaters out there I know more spells then anyone here, save you. I thought I was magically strong enough to handle anything you taught us.”

“You are,” Harry managed to get in. She only stopped cause she needed to take a breath. With a glare, he shut up again.

“You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do. I am my own person, I can handle failure,” Hermione said. She didn't get to be the brightest witch of the age without failing once or twice. “I've failed before Harrry, and I've managed to survive. I think I could handle it if I failed to become a totem.”

“Not this kind,” harry muttered. She stopped at this. She hadn't realized she had been pacing until she found herself facing the bathroom for her room.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I died Hermione, not nearly, not almost-but-hey-you're-going-to-pull-through, I mean ten-minutes-of-nothing-dead.” Harry wasn't looking at her, and Hermione moved closer, trying to look into his hidden eyes. She stopped though, as he finished. “I only came back because Fawkes found me during his burning day, and that was how it work. Not because I'm some great wizard, or because I knew what I was doing.” He looked up at her. There was a guilt in his eyes, a guilt that he put there himself. He looked worse then he did when he left for the summer after their fifth year. “I got lucky. That's it. That's how I'm all powerful, or was. I got lucky.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione managed to get out before sitting next to him, wrapping her arms around him. “There are some that say its better to be lucky then skilled. I know I'd rather be lucky then good. I wouldn't have made friends if I wasn't.”

“My luck ran out though,” Harry said, leaning into her. She only pulled upon his neck tighter as she tried to comfort him. He was stubborn, so was she, but at least she admitted it, sometimes. “Dumbledore died, and I couldn't do anything about it. I was thrown back in time nearly seventy years. How can you call that lucky?”

“I can call it luck because you are back here with me,” Hermione said. She pushed his head with her own, trying to burrow into his chest. His arms moved where she wanted them, around her, protecting her body, as she protected his heart. “And that is all that I had ever wanted.” She felt him break down against her, crying into her neck, and she could not stop the tears that had formed on their own in her eyes from falling as well.

She didn't know how long they sat there, in each others arms. Or how long they cried together, or who stopped first. She didn't know if she ever wanted to leave the safety of them. She didn't know as much about the world as she thought she had. All she knew was that today, today was the day that she had her heart pieced back together, by the man who it rightfully belonged to.

-->

Chapter Ten: Limitations

The best and safest thing is to keep a balance in your life, acknowledge the great powers around us and in us. If you can do that, and live that way, you are really a wise man. Euripides (484 BC - 406 BC)

Harry woke up some time after he had cried himself asleep. While he and Hermione had decided to pursue a relationship, he wasn't quite sure that sleeping with her on the first day was kosher. Not that he slept with her, Lord knows she would have killed him. No, they shared the bed, with her asleep in his arms. He was horrible at relationships, even after all this time; he knew that she would tell him to let her go. But he couldn't.

No matter how much he told his arms to move, and release her, they would not listen to him. He would die happy at least.

Harry brushed some of the hair away from the face he was staring at, wanting a better look at her. With an errant thought, he transfigured their clothing into something more comfortable, something more casual. They still needed to talk, but their argument, if it could be called that, was out of the way. He knew she was angry, and he understood why too for that matter. But she still needed to tell him, and he still needed to listen. Oh, they were going to come back to this argument again, but for now, it was settled.

Running his hand through her hair, he wasn't surprised at the smile that formed on her lips. More than that though, he was surprised with her leaning into his hand. “Keep that up and I'm yours forever.”

“You already got me, so I might as well make the most of it,” Harry said with a sad smile. She really didn't understand it all, the effects of the bond and how it will keep them drawn together. “Do understand everything about it Hermione?”

“About what?” Hermione said, pushing him so he was lying on his back as she raised her head onto his shoulder.

“About our bond,” Harry said, linking his hand with hers as they rested on his stomach. She looked up at him for a moment, staring into his eyes. She had somehow known how to send emotions through the bond, something that he knew would have come in time, yet she did within hours. “That you and I are stuck together for the next hundreds years or so, and the life after this.” Hermione looked at him, staring deeper into his soul that he thought possible, even with the bond they now shared.

“I think I could live with that,” Hermione said. He could not help the smile that formed, nor did he stop himself for leaning down. He had wanted give her a kiss since he had first returned. He brushed his lips against hers lightly, before pulling back to gage her response.

“You going to do that again?” Hermione asked. Her eyes were closed, her head still positioned for him to kiss her.

“To be honest, I was thinking about it,” Harry said. She opened her eyes, her smile nearly blinding him.

“Let me help you out,” Hermione said. Her hand wrapped itself around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her once again. He got lost in the kiss, feelings overwhelming him as their link expanded. He felt her pull away, though he wondered how much longer he would have lasted. “You figure it out?”

“I believe so,” Harry said with a chuckle at the mischievous glint in her eyes. He lost track of the time again, this time though was a much more pleasurable experience for both of them. He felt her hands pressing against his chest as she removed her lips from his.

“We still need to talk a bit about what is happening,” Hermione said, breathing heavily. Harry could only smile; he was used to going without air for a while, though he wouldn't admit it.

“Yes we do,” Harry said. He pushed up on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. Hermione sat up and moved to the end of the bed, placing his feet on each of her. Her feet however just reached his waist. “What do you want to know?”

“What else do we have to expect for this, besides the obvious benefit?” Hermione said. Harry gave her a smile as she sent a gentle warm wave over their bond to him.

“Nothing horrifying, or at least from my perspective, it isn't bad,” Harry said. He took her feet, lazily drawing circles on them. Hermione giggled, something that caused him to stop. She blushed under his gaze, before nodding, as if to tell him to continue. At the moment, he couldn't decide if it was the statement, or his impromptu massage. He start both up again. “We might be able to read each others thoughts eventually, like a form of telepathy, just only with us. It would take a lot of concentration to block the other, or shut the other out.'

“Like you did today?” There was no anger in her eyes, just the question. The topic was ill content between the two of them, understood to bring up a fight if brought up.

“Something like that, but I'm more apt to put up a road block then cut you off,” Harry said. He grasped her ankles, pulling her closer. “I'll teach you how to train the mind, because that is where I've excelled at a lifetime ago.” He moved a little, letting her wrap her legs around his back.

“That just means you'll need to come to me for a different type of teaching,” Hermione said. She pulled him down to her lips again, not letting him go as she seemed to consume him.

“My little fox,” Harry managed to get out when she let him go for a breath. She giggled again before tucking her head underneath his own.

“What about if we were to...?” Hermione's voice trailed off and he felt his face warm for the first time in over forty years. Thankfully, he had his face hidden in her hair so she couldn't see him.

“I really don't know, that still uncharted territory for me,” Harry said honestly. She pulled back again, looking into his eyes before returning to her position.

“Then we'll learn together,” Hermione said. “Now unless you plan on going off somewhere, we've got at least another couple hours by ourselves before we have to meet with the Order.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Harry said. He felt Hermione's legs untangle themselves from around him as she pushed him onto his back.

“I suggest you let me teach you a thing or two about relationships,” Hermione said. Straddling him now, Hermione was in control, and there was a passion burning inside of her that he had rarely a chance to see. That was last thought he was able to hold before he let the bond expand once again.

I0I

Hermione found more that there was more to Harry's character then he had let on. There was still the little boy afraid of the world, thirsting to prove himself to everyone, yet afraid of them. She was here for that little boy, and with Harry leaving the bond open just a little more, she knew that he was coming to accept that he could rely on someone else.

She could not hold back the smile that he been planted upon her face. They hadn't been that far yet, and Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before they were. Their bond if anything only made the distance away from him worse. Not that she couldn't handle it, far from it, but rather she felt like she didn't know how to handle the thought of him being far away from him.

Which was how she found herself now. In her room, practicing “building walls” as Harry put it. She was reading up on more of the magic that he was trying to teach her. Hermione was proud with herself when she was able to get all of the books he had on the subject from him. Not that there were many, but enough to quench her thirst for a while.

“Relax Hermione, you can do this,” she said. She wanted to construct a wall like Ron had the day before, yet out of her own powers. She hadn't been able to go back to the plains again, despite knowing she could. As hard as she concentrated, she could only feel the ocean that surrounded her. She felt the wind pressing against her, kicking up the waves and the sand.

Sitting down on the sand, she stared out upon the sea. Harry was right when he said that she was filled with knowledge and order, though she could not help but feel the calm that filled her as she sat there. She felt the cool breeze and salty air settled in her being.

Hermione sat there, watching the merfolk popping out of the surf, looking over at her from time to time. They had to be as curious as she felt, wanting to explore the depths of the sea before her as they wished to know the land she sat upon. Off in the distance, a storm was brewing. The merfolk saw it as well, looking off in that direction as well before going underneath the sea again. The waves were growing stronger as well, with the force of the wind pushing them against the beach. More than that though, was the uneasy feeling that seemed to exude from the sea. Like something worse than a storm was coming her way.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to draw the mana that she knew was around her. The waves were crashing harder now, and closer to her. Drawing more mana, she began to feel a burning sensation as she tried to picture a wall, like Harry had told her. With the first blast of a wave that hit her, she unleashed her mana, letting it meld into the waters that had risen from the sea.

Opaque waves of ice blue spread from her hands as the mana built her walls. Walls of the water moved around her, absorbing each wave that hit them, strengthening her walls and her spirit. She began to draw the mana again, letting her wall remain as she could make the outline of something approaching her faster than she had ever seen.

The walls turned into ice, letting a stronger sense of security overcome her. The ice strong and thick enough to withstand just about anything. Or at least that was what she thought. The wall had formed a dome over her, protecting her from the violent winds that shook her protection. She felt the ground beneath give way, the sand disappearing as she was lifted off the ground. Her luck promptly ran out after the shields formed beneath her. The winds grew dark and a pounding sensation could be felt upon the walls of ice.

She did the only thing she could think of, concentrate on the walls she had made, trying to hold onto them as the black winds hit harder and harder against them. She wanted to call something to her, something that could protect her. Something, anything that would -

“HERMIONE!” Her eyes snapped open, to see Harry's staring right back at her. There was something in them that she had never seen before, or at least only heard about from Neville. The Department of Mysteries. He was afraid, for her…?

“Harry?” He had his arms around her, holding her to his chest. Looking up at him, she was surprised. The fear was still there, now though, there were tears silently falling down his cheeks. Tightening her grip around him, she let him nearly collapse against her.

“Please, please, don't do that again,” Harry whispered. She looked at him again, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears. His fears were beginning to pour over their bond, something that she knew he was repressing at the moment. Their connection seemed smaller. She began to push back at it, wanting to hold him in every possible way she could.

“Do what?”

“Leave me again,” he said. The bond was opening up again, his fear disappearing faster than she had felt it appear.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said. She couldn't help her own tears as that little boy she promised to protect appeared. She pulled him closer to her, letting his body wait shift onto her. More importantly though, was that she was there for him, whether he knew he needed it or not. She was there for him.

She kissed his cheek lightly as he pulled back. Hermione had lost track of how long she had held him, yet she knew she had done her job for now. She had found a place for herself in his life, and if she wanted to be honest with herself, it was the same as before he had left.

“Thank you,” Harry managed to say. She just smiled at him as she pulled him back onto her bed.

“I'm not going to leave you again, but you still need to tell me if there is going to be any problems with me learning this stuff,” Hermione said.

“No, no problems,” Harry said, pulling away. He sat up, holding his head in his hands. “None that you caused at least.” He looked back down at her with a small smile. “Someone tried to attack you while you were in your trance. I think it was the same person that took you from us.” Hermione moved so she could wrap her arms around his waist as she lay on the bed, not wanting to get up quite yet. She hadn't felt this tired before, but now she felt like a long winter's nap was a good idea. “No, I know it was the same person that took you from me.”

“That's why you're here,” Hermione managed to get out through a yawn. “To protect me from the big bad guy.” Harry smiled down at her, brushing a strain of hair from her face. “And I'm here to protect you from you.”

“I can be a bastard to myself sometimes,” Harry said. She smacked his thigh, trying to look stern when she felt so tired. She really wanted to know what he had told everyone else, or even if he had gotten that fear at least.

“Don't swear,” Hermione said.

“I'll be back in about an hour love, we've got to meet with the Weasleys,” Harry said.

“I thought you did that already.”

“I meant Bill and Fleur. They're really worried about you.” Hermione smiled to herself as she felt her eyes getting heavier. “Sleep well. I'll be back in a hour.”

“You better tell me what happened then.” Hermione yawned again and loosened her grip on Harry's waist.

“Anything for you.” The last thing she heard was Harry telling Grim to look after her.

Her dreams were from before this had all started, of their first year at Hogwarts. When she believed she had a sense of innocence to her still. She never told anyone of the crush she had on both boys who saved her, which only made it even more difficult when it came time to chose who to fall all the way for. She hadn't made that decision until their fifth year, when Harry had pushed both her and Ron away. After that, it only seemed natural for her to fall for Ron. Only it wasn't. It didn't feel right snogging him; it didn't even feel easy. Not the way love should be. Or at least that was how she thought was supposed to be.

The five years without Harry taught her that love wasn't something that just appeared overnight. Love is the little things that a person does. Like standing up for a person when they really don't need it. Or checking in on her parents when she couldn't. Holding her when she had a nightmare. Pulling her out of the way of danger. Staring at you from across the room, letting his eyes speak for him. Letting her stay close on the scariest ride of her life. Holding the scared hand of a thirteen year-old trapped in her own body. Even defending her when she was a total bitch to strangers.

Sitting up, Hermione felt a calm that could not be attributed to Harry's presence through the bond. No, it was something not quite as deep. With a fleeting thought that wishing Harry was there to help her, she began to picture her beach, only there was something different about it.

Huts were being built along the water's edge, above the surf as the waves crashed upon the poles of the huts. There were fishing boats out on the water now, and people were mingling it seemed with the merfolk that lived out there. Hermione had to stop herself from walking out there.

“Its okay, they know who you are,” Harry said. She turned to see him standing beside her, dressed like one of those cowboys out of those Yankee movies. What was that guy's name? John something...John Wayne, that's what it was.

“You came through the bond?” Hermione asked before looking back at the small village.

“In a sense,” Harry said. “But really, a part of me is always with you, and you with me.”

“I think I like that,” Hermione said. She looked back at him for a moment before leaning against him. She couldn't help the giggle as his body stiffened at the contact. That didn't last long as he wrapped his arms around her stomach, pulling her closer. “You're learning fast.”

“I have a good teacher,” Harry said. “Those people are a part of the mana now Hermione. As you draw more mana, more life can be sustained upon what you have, while still letting you draw upon it.”

“But you didn't have that many creatures,” Hermione said, looking back at the fishing boats.

“That is because they just didn't want to be seen, many of them are on the plains, and then hidden in the mountains,” Harry said. “But that's not important right now. Look out into the waters, as far as you can see.” Hermione looked up at him for a moment before nodding, doing as he asked. “How many islands can you see?”

“Seven,” Hermione said. If Harry hadn't been holding onto her, she would have fallen over from the shock. That was more than double what she had started with.

“Let's turn around for a moment,” Harry said, lifting her off the ground ever so slightly as he turned them. “Anything different?” The mountains looked so much smaller now. The plains looked fuller, more like savannahs out of some of the African based novels she had read.

“I'm going to teach you a few healing spells, but for the most part, it will all be up to you,” Harry said.

“Really, I could do anything?” Hermione asked.

“Just about,”Harry said. “More importantly though, you need to know your own boundaries, I can't teach those to you. While we are the same, we're still different, and we each have our own paths.” Hermione turned around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You are mine, and whether are paths cross or diverge doesn't matter,” Hermione said. She kissed him gently on the lips, feeling the world around her meld back into her room. They snogged for a few more minutes before Hermione pulled back, staring at him. “You going to tell me what you did while I practiced and napped or am I going to have to get it out of you?”

“Depends on your method,” Harry said. Hermione just smiled.

“You were always susceptible to disciplinary actions,” Hermione said, pinching his rear. His face turned red at this, stammering for an answer. She giggled at him, glad to know that he still was a kid where it counted. Kissing him again, Hermione smiled to herself at the punch-drunk look on his face. “Now, what have you been up to?” Shaking his head, Harry smiled to her before letting her go and taking a seat at her desk. She sat on the bed's edge, far enough to give him his space, but close enough for their knees to touch.

“The Order knows that you were taken and that Ron and I were able to ensure your safe return,” Harry said. He blushed at this point, turning his head toward the door, away from her eyes. “They don't know of our bond.”

Hermione smiled, touching the mark of the Phoenix that overtook the rune on her breast. It would make wearing some dresses difficult, but she really didn't mind. Touching the small blue and white flame, she felt the warmth spread through her. Harry returned the smile, touching a mark on his chest as well. She could not help the squeal as he sent her a wave of happiness and love.

“What else?” Hermione said. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it lightly.

“We're to meet Fleur and Bill soon, so if you want to shower while I get you something to eat, we should have enough time,” Harry said. Hermione stood, kissing him deeply again. She smiled at him, dropping her eyelids as much as she could while looking at him.

“Care to join me?” Hermione said, dragging her kiss across his cheek. She pressed against him, pushing her breasts into his chest before kissing him again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” Harry said. She pulled back before heading off to the showers, sending him one more glance and then a shake of her hips. She released the giggle she had been holding in once she was behind the closed doors of her bathroom. She had never more loved or wanted in that moment there, and he hadn't even said the words to her yet.

I0I

Harry walked with Hermione to the expecting parents, trying to remain calm. This was the first time he did not have his age on his side when he worked with a patient. Usually it worked in his favor, made up for eccentric ideas and herbal remedies. Which worked no less, just made him seem less crazy.

“You'll do fine, especially if you still remember everything,” Hermione said, bumping his shoulder with her own. Harry tried to smile, yet everything seemed so foreign at the moment.

The repairs to Hogwarts were almost complete. He was going to working on the wards the following week, mapping out the areas he planned to extend into, mainly parts of the forest and the town itself. Hagrid had expressed his wishes to move back into his hut, allowing him to take care of their field of produce. McGonagall had expressed her wishes for his help with the teacher selection process, which he really had no idea what to do. Mad-eye wanted him to help with the training regimen for the army and for the Order. Everyone had a need for him, well, everyone except Snape, but that was only because the bastard knew what he needed to do and had for months.

But this was one need he was more than happy to fulfill. Once again his favorite part of the job as a doctor was checking up on the unborn child. Knocking on the door, he felt his nerves leave him, relishing in a familiar setting.

“Come in,” Bill's voice said from the other side of the door. Opening the door, Harry let Hermione enter first, letting both of the Weasleys get a look at the young him.

“We weren't quite sure what to expect out of you, after what happened recently,” Bill said as Harry closed the door behind him. Fleur was once again sitting in the chair that she was in upon their first visit.

“How have you been?” Harry said. Taking a chair with him, he sat across from Fleur. “The tea been helping any?”

“Very much, thank you,” Fleur said. Bill moved around behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders. “We 'ave been taking it eazy, not wanting to upzet ze baby.”

“That's about all anyone can do,” Harry said. “Hermione would you care to run the diagnostic charms please?” Hermione gave a smile before removing her wand, casting the spell as Harry began to talk again. “I'm thinking of setting a charm that you can use to notify both of us when you start your labor.” Hermione nodded, letting him know there were no problems or anything. He gave them a smile, relaying the information.

“We were going to ask how you we should contact you, or rather who,” Bill said with a smirk. Harry felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he looked over at Hermione who just smiled at him.

“While we are together, we are not at that stage yet so it would be best if you contacted both of us,” Hermione said. Taking out two galleons, she charmed them both the same way she had in their fifth year. “Just tap this once and we'll be notified.” Hermione handed it to Bill, stepping back to Harry's side. “We'll be here almost immediately after you activate it.”

“How's Harry going to know?” Bill asked, still holding the galleon. Harry took the one from Hermione's hand, palming it in his. He could still feel the magic within the object, just like an enchantment, only it would not last as long as one. He was thankful for that at least.

Gathering his magic, he spread it into the galleon. He held back a smile as he felt Hermione shudder slightly as he touched her magic, both through the bond their now shared and through the galleon. Opening his eyes, he let the galleon roll across his fingers, watching the silver glow dissipate as it did.

“I'll know now,” Harry said, flipping the coin in the air. As the coin turned, it seemed to fade away before finally disappearing altogether. He smiled to himself as he looked at the others. They were shocked, whether at the coins disappearance or at his wandless display of magic, he wasn't sure. “Check your pocket.” Harry said as he stood from his chair. Hermione's hands immediately searched for the galleon, finding it in the same pocket she had taken it from, still glowing slightly.

“There is one more piece of business, but I'm going to hold off on offering you the job Bill,” Harry said.

“What job?” Bill asked. He could not hold back the smile that had begun to form. Sometimes knowing everything was pretty fun. He could see why Hermione liked it so much.

“Oh, damn that's right, I was supposed to not say anything,” Harry said, moved his chair back slightly before levitating the round table between them. He motioned for Bill to take a seat next to his wife, while conjuring a chair for Hermione next to him. She gave him a look before pushing him back in his chair slightly and sitting on his lap. Holding back his blush, he wrapped his arms around her instinctively. He had to really grab at his train of thought as it left station when she sat.

“Right, the job,” Harry said, shaking his head after a moment. Hermione just giggled at him as both Bill and Fleur shared a smile. “We will be restarting the school, come the new year.”

“Is zat a good move, `Arry?” fleur asked. “What about ze war?”

“The war isn't going to end overnight, and I'd rather have the children here, where we can watch over them, then let something happen to them out there,” Harry said. “I've been talking with Minerva and she agrees with me. Which is why we're going to send out word before the Christmas holidays begin.”

“She agrees with this?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded, relaxing as she leaned back into him. “What will I be doing during this time?”

“You and Fleur when she feels up to it, will be in charge of the Hospital Wing,” Harry said. “Most of the jobs have already been filled, and the ones that aren't we've either eliminated for now until we can find a replacement or we are asking members of the Order to fill in.”

“You want me to 'elp you 'Arry?” Fleur asked, looking at her husband. Harry just smiled at her.

“We all have a reason to be fighting in their war, Fleur. I want to give you way to help out, and still protect your family the best way you know how,” Harry said. He watched the byplay between Fleur and her husband, getting as much of a read off them as he could.

Both of them wanted to be involved with the war, and with the future of their world. A world for their child. He had given them a way, laid out the roadwork for them to build their own paths. Holding Hermione, he could not help but feel like he wanted the same. A sense of security that he, even in his past life, did not have. He never had a secure fortune or goal.

Hermione turned on his lap slightly, so she could look at him. He gave her a sad smile. “I'm done taking the choice from a person, its up to them what they want to do, or not.” She gave him one of her looks. The looks that meant that they were going to have a long talk after this.

Motioning for Hermione to stand, Harry stood from the chair, moving the table back to where it was in the room. “I'll let you think about it. I've got some things to take care of, mainly checking on the wards and Snape.”

“You have him under a tight leash?” Bill asked, standing up from his chair. It promptly disappeared, causing Harry to smirk slightly.

“He knows what to do and what he is worth,” Harry said. Everyone looked at him, trying to figure out the double meaning of his statement. They wouldn't. Saying his goodbye, Harry walked out of the room, holding the door open for Hermione when she figured he was leaving.

“So why do you have to check on Snape?” Hermione asked once they were out of the room. Harry gave her a smile before he gave her a kiss on her cheek.

“Because I know how to handle him,” Harry said. He gave her another smile, leaving her standing in the hallway staring at him before he took off down another corridor. He may have been new at with maintaining relationships, but he certainly knew how to keep people asking for me. What else was he supposed to do as Fawkes, but learn from a master at that art?

I0I

After Harry had left her in the hall, she could not help but giggle lightly at his antics. While he had no formal relationships in what she had to assume was seventy years (she refused to allow herself to think otherwise), he was learning fast. She had to admit that she was glad that Harry didn't ask about her past experiences with other men. Not that there were many, she just was not proud of the one that she had been with.

Krum.

Krum had returned for a little time after Harry left, saying he wanted to help with the Order. Not that she didn't believe him. She did, but she knew he really wanted to get closer to her. At the time, it had been something she needed. She had a failed relationship with Ron, and really couldn't handle being around the Weasleys too much despite their support that they offered her. But more than that, it let her forget Harry, if but for a little while.

Shaking her head, she left those thoughts alone. She wasn't proud of that person she had been the past five years and she could not help but feel that she would not have been as submissive to Krum's whims if it wasn't for the potion Ginny had given her.

She felt a flare of anger rise in her. Her thoughts would have continued along that line, but she felt the comforting wave from Harry seep through her. He relaxed her, slightly.

It still did not sit with her well that Ginny was able to manipulate her like that and for so long. She knew there weren't going to be any lasting affects like there would have been if she had been flushed of the potion any other way. If anything, Hermione felt stronger than she had before she was given the potion.

“Speak of the devil,” Hermione muttered as she turned another corner to her room. Ginny was walking toward the library, looking for her probably.

“Hermione,” Ginny's face brightened up at this. Hermione glared at her, stopping several feet away from the girl. Ginny stopped short, her face falling slightly. “I just wanted to apologize.”

“I don't want an apology from you,” Hermione said. She shook her head, that was wrong. “Not now at least. I'm not even sure if I should even forgive you for what you did.” Ginny looked away, finally looking the age that she was, instead still seventeen. Maybe even older. “Do you have any idea what you did to me? You made me less than a human. You made me almost into an enslaved house elf Ginerva.”

“I know,” Ginny said. Her voice was barely audible while Hermione felt hers rising in volume.

“If you knew why did you do it?” Hermione said. “We didn't even know if Harry was going to come back.”

“You did,” Ginny said, finally making eye contact with her. Hermione stopped at this. She could remember that even when she was with Krum she had been insistent that Harry would return. But now much else....

“Yes, I did, but what does that have to do with anything?” Hermione asked. She relaxed her stance slightly, holding to her anger.

“You're the only one who wanted to keep going on, working on whatever it was that you were working on,” Ginny said.

“After a while you came around to think he was going to come back too,” Hermione said. Her tone was flat; she was trying hard not to think about the damages Ginny had caused her. How much of the past fives years did she remember to begin with? More than that, how much of it was a lie?

“Not really,” Ginny said. “I just thought that it would make me look better if he did return.” Hermione felt a flash of something burst inside of her. Her chest felt warmer than it had before; She felt walls being built inside of her, protecting something...her heart? No....her Harry....

“Did you know Ginerva,” Hermione started, walking closer to Ginny, “that I dont remember much of the last five years? That for the life of me, I can't recall when the army settled in or when the attack was on Hogwarts?” Ginny looked away, tears were falling down her cheeks by now. She did know what she had done. “Why? Why did you do that to me?”

“Because you had something I could never have,” Ginny said through her tears.

“It was Harry's choice Ginny,” Hermione said. She put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. “You might have had a chance if you treated people better Ginny, instead of just as objects you could control.” She felt something warm spread through her; she knew Harry was sending that to her. Somehow, she also knew he had been listening in, and he knew how it was going to end too. She couldn't say how she knew that, but it was just another one of those talks that she was going to have to have with him.

“My mother used a potion on my father to get him,” Ginny said, nearly crumbling into the floor. Hermione knelt next to her, finally taking a good look at Ginny.

She wasn't the same person Hermione remembered. She looked like she had barely been sleeping, and certainly wasn't taking care of her hair, a contrast to how she had been know to fawn over it. She was in no ways the fashion hound she had tried to portray before.

Looking down at Ginny, Hermione could not help but feel sorry for the younger woman. She still did not know if she could forgive the youngest Weasley for her transgressions, but listening to her might be good for both of them.

“How are you Ginny?” She asked. Gone was the anger, hidden under the layers of kindness that she knew she had. She would work out her anger later, with Harry, or at least try and figure out the conflicting emotions as he listened. Right now though, there were more important things to deal with.

Ginny's eyes shot up to look at her, trying to distinguish any malice or anger. Hermione offered her hand to her, pulling her up off the ground. “While I may not forgive you yet Ginny, I do know what it is like to have no one to talk to.” Ginny nodded, wiping her eyes of her tears.

“Thank you, I don't deserve this, but thank you,” she said. Hermione tried to offer a reassuring smile, but found she could only make a small one. Ginny was right, she didn't deserve it, but sometimes that was just how things are.

I0I

Harry relaxed in the office that McGonagall had given him. He had sent Hermione an owl earlier, telling her to meet him in the office behind the Transfiguration room after she was done talking to Ginny. He was still unsure of him taking over for the position, but McGonagall had been rather persistent about this.

He really didn't know the first thing about teaching, and knew that he would have to begin to look over the text books from previous years for what he wanted to teach. Charms had always been easier for him, especially with his limited magically abilities from the last couple of months. He'd have to get back into step with transfiguration, though McGonagall seemed to have little doubt in him. He was thankful that at least one of them thought that.

“Hey Hermione,” Harry said, flipping through a basic book from several years before. People had not stopped writing it seemed, even with the war that was going on.

“You weren't kidding when you said you were going to be teaching Transfiguration were you?” Hermione said, taking a look around. Harry looked up, giving her a smile. “Already moved in?”

He had unpacked half of his massive collection of books. His magical books lined the walls to the left of and behind him, while all of his fiction books took up the right wall. He was rather proud to surmount such a collection over the years. He knew Hermione would pick through all of it before Christmas came.

“I figured we keep up propriety,” Harry said. “I hope I didn't impose on you too much.” Hermione gave him what he could call a seductive smile on her, yet he couldn't tell that anything was different with her smile. It was her eyes, he decided as she walked around the desk and pushed him back, causing his chair to roll across the floor. Definitely the eyes, he decided as they bore into his soul.

“Harry,” she purred his name. How the hell could she do that? “You could never impose on me.” She sat down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips were on his before he even had a chance to respond again.

After several nirvana-esque minutes, Harry felt Hermione pull back, staring at him with such power in her eyes. Such emotion, such love. He let the bond relax, and with barely a touch, he sent a wave of his own emotions over to her. Seeing her eyes light up and pounce on him was enough for him to know that he had done something right.

When she finally pulled back, he doubted he could have had felt this aroused once over the last seventy years. It was his curse, he knew that much. But now, it was as his curse had been lifted.

“You are going to be the death of me,” Harry said, his smile spreading across his face.

“At least you'll die happy,” Hermione said. Again with that damn smile. She pulled back, her face growing serious. “Now, you are going to tell me what that comment of yours was all about.” Harry nodded, trying to come up with a small smile.

“I mean that I'm done deciding for you what is right, and what is safe,” Harry said. He never wanted anything to happen to her. He wanted her to live and happy life, but he could not take away her choice again. That had cost him too much. “My decision had cost us the chance to make things right, the chance to be together sooner.” Pushing her off his lap, he stood. He wasn't surprised to see her take his chair as he walked around the desk closing the door. “I knew I had made that mistake when I told you my decision to leave. I thought I was going to come back, and you were going to beat me up because I left without you, but hug me to death because I returned. I really did believe that.

“It didn't take me long to realize that I had messed up when I was flung back,” Harry said. He rubbed his right arm and the scar he had given himself. “I'll admit that I enjoyed the time alone, but I still felt something was missing as I traveled. I was going to come back.” He finally looked at her, pleading with her to understand. She had to know he didn't mean to be gone for so long. “But it just all went to hell.”He finally looked away, not wanting her to see his pain.

“I know Harry,” Hermione said. Stood from the chair before walking over and wrapping her arms around his stomach. “You came back when you could.”

“I almost didn't,” he said in a soft voice. He looked down, slightly surprised to see her rubbing his scar. No one wanted to touch it, the monks even said it tainted the purity of his soul. Yet that simple act, her touch healed him.

“But you did,” she said, running her fingers up and down his arm again. He shivered again, this time at her breath on his neck. He didn't know when he pulled her into a tight embrace, only that he needed her closer.

Again, he lost track of time, but it was no where near the nirvana he had felt before. Holding her in his arms, Harry sorted his thoughts, trying to grasp at ones he knew to be happy, and tossed away ones he didn't want to remember.

Hermione pulled back, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips as she did so before sitting on his desk. He gave her a smile before turning back to his shelves of books, trying to find any more he had on transfiguration.

“You okay?” She asked after he took a book off the shelf. He looked back at her for a moment, nodding, before he turned back to the books. “You need help?”

“I need to select the books for next year, and I really don't know what to choose,” he said, looking between two books. She hopped off the desk, picking one out of his hands before placing it back onto the shelf.

“That one will do fine for the first years,” Hermione said. “now before I pick out the rest of the books, you have to answer a question for me.” Harry looked up from the book. He was flipping through it, looking quickly at the spells that the first years would be learning, probably earlier as well. “How did you know I was talking to Ginny?”

Harry could not help the smile that grew across his face. He was surprised that he figured out that before she did, but then again, he had more practice with talking with your mind. He had done so with Dumbledore a few times, or at least suggested things that made Dumbledore suspicious of him.

“I told you I would always be there for you,” Harry said. He gave her a pointed look before turning away. As he looked at his books again, he sent a wave of happiness toward her. He smiled again at the squeal she let out before turning around to look at her. “You going to keep squealing every time I doing that?” She blushed under his gaze before he felt a wave of...something rush over him. Whatever that wonderful was he could not help but shudder as it rushed through his body. Looking at her, he was surprised she was holding in her laughter.

“You're not the only one that needs to learn control,” Hermione said. Again, how did she switch from best friend mode to seductress?

“I thought I was the professor,” he said, taking a step toward the desk. “I was the one who was supposed to discipline you, Miss Granger.” He wrapped his arm around her, nearly pulling her off the desk as he drew her to his chest. She didn't respond; instead, she sent another wave of that wonderful emotion from before.

“Mr. Potter, I'll have you know that trouble is my middle name,” Hermione said, pushing against him. There was that purr again. How did he miss this side of her? “But we'll deal with your control before anything else.”

“If that means that I have to keep my hands off of you, I don't want to learn about control,” he said, kissing her again. He could not help it as his hands moved a little further south, and around her wonderfully shaped ass. He could not help but smile into their kiss as she squealed again. That time, it had not been from a wave from him. God, he could get used to this.

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Chapter Eleven: Nobody's Hero

"Do you know what the definition of a hero is? Someone who gets other people killed. You can look it up later." Zoe Warren, "Serenity" (2005)

It had taken quite a bit of time. And a lot of magic on Harry's behalf, but her hospital wing was set up in what she hoped was a warm environment. She had worked so hard are trying to make something seem welcoming in the cold walls of Hogwarts.

Everyone had been doing the same. Trying to prepare the castle for the other children that would live in it. What children they did have in living in the dorms seemed to be growing more and more excited with each day. It was the light in their eyes that made the magic in the castle glow. Hogwarts was beginning to become what it was when she attended nearly five years ago.

Five years.... It seemed like a lifetime away now. It was a lifetime ago when she had first met little Harry Potter, the boy that she had only read about, only dreamed about, but never planned on befriending. But here she was, more than a decade later, and she found herself in love with that same boy. Only he wasn't a little boy anymore. It frightened her when she thought about how much he had grown up.

He had set up the wards around the castle, expanding them with the help of McGonagall and Mad-Eye. They both said that Harry did most of work, but he still accredited all of them. Much like how he said everyone else was doing all the work, when really, they could not have done any of what they had done without him.

Harry was the one who had made sure they rebuilt the castle. He was the one that had put this idea of expanding the wards and defense of the castle in everyone's heads. He did something to make the orphans smile again, to make them laugh again. He made them all laugh again.

The sigh that escaped could not be helped. She felt too happy for words, and too content for just a smile. She would settle for a sigh.

“You ready for the meeting?” His voice asked. She turned around to see him walking toward her, a large smile on his face.

“I've done what I could for the day,” she said. “I hope to practice some more spells when I get back today.”

“Any type in particular?” Harry said, motioning for them to walk toward their meeting room, conveniently the room where he would be teaching.

“I'm thinking about conjuring spirits or a small elemental,” Hermione said. Harry looked at her for a moment before chuckling.

“Just be careful, I don't want to have to fix the hospital wing like I did last time,” Harry said. She glared at him, remembering when she had summoned the gusts of wind while practicing her other magic. The wind had tossed her into the wall. Taking the breath she held with it, the fury of the wind did not diminish, rather it grew. The elemental could have killed her but Harry had popped it and simply dispelled the wind then healed her. He never said anything about her not practicing or being careful. He just smiled and held her close. That made her feel better then if he had said anything at all. Especially since he seemed to now know if she needed his help or if she could handle it on her own.

She didn't say anything but took his hand as they walked. She began to talk about how she had been practicing her healing abilities with mana. There had been a few children who had been hurt over while playing outside, something that they would have never been able to do had Harry not cleaned it up. She had managed to fix the scrapes and cuts rather easy, easier than it would have been using her wand. Now all she had to do was place her hand over the small wound, and concentrate on the purity of her plains. A flash of light, and the child was healed. She had worked her way up to major burns and broken bones. While it took more energy to do those, almost all of it, she felt it was worth it as an alternative to other magical healing.

“Ah, looks like everyone is here,” Harry said, holding the door open for Hermione. Everyone was here, or at least the ones that Harry wanted. Despite her best efforts, Hermione was unable to persuade Harry to let her parents in. He seemed to think he was in for another argument, but she let it go. If Harry thought it was to keep then safe, then she had to trust his judgment. He had kept them safe long enough, he could keep them safe a little longer.

Harry had revamped the Order greatly. He had separated people according to their talents and their contributions to the Order. The Weasleys now sat separated, with Mrs Weasley by her husband, and some of the other professors. The twins were sitting with Mad-Eye, talking over some plan of their. Neville had returned to working with Hogsmeade after a few weeks, helping what people that lived their adjust to the changes in the wards and rebuilding. Charlie was talking with Mr. Weasley about something. Hermione didn't know what, and Harry wouldn't tell her too much.

McGonagall and Flitwick were talking about one thing or another, it had to be about the school reopening. Hagrid had been out and about, attending to the garden that he and Harry had managed to make cover almost an acre. How the giant took such gentle care of the vegetables still amazed her. Tonks and Lupin were talking in hushed tones. Lupin had yet to forgive Harry, but for what, she did not know. All she knew was that Harry had taken to ignoring the older man until the apology came. She'd get the answer out of Harry eventually.

Only three people were missing, Bill, Fleur and Snape. Snape for obvious reasons; the man was still not well like or even trusted. Which seemed to work fine for both Snape and the Order. Harry let him work on restoring their potions stores while the Order got down to more important things. Like rebuilding the school. Harry and Bill had spoken once before the meeting, and had come to an agreement. Bill and Fleur were in the Order still, but he had them protecting what he believed to be “the most important thing of all.” Harry had gotten a long makeout session out of that one.

Hermione gave Harry a smile as he helped her into her seat, next to Luna. Luna and Ron were talking about something she had never heard of, and from the look on Ron's face, neither had he. But he was smiling. That was more than he had really done in the last five years. She spotted Ginny, sitting behind her mother, keeping her head low and trying not to make any eye contact. The two of them began to talk through everything, and Hermione felt ready to accept the younger girls apology. Ginny finally seemed to grow up, but still, Hermione did not know if Ginny felt sorry over her loss of Harry or if it wasn't something deeper that pushed Ginny to do what her did.

“Thank you for all coming,” Harry said. He waved his wand, making a table appear in front of them. It was a large round table, and those that did not have seats found themselves with small platform to write on, like from a classroom auditorium. “I'd like to begin with a quick overview of what we've got done so far. We're all on different parts of projects we've been working on and I figured it would a good thing for us to all get on the same page.

“The wards are almost completed,” Harry said, giving Mad-eye and the twins a nod. “We will be expanding the final hundred meters within the next week. By then I hope we will have at least three kilometers into the Forbidden Forest, and nearly a kilometer past Hogsmeade.” Neville nodded at this. He no longer was the clumsy slightly chubby boy that Hermione remembered from their school years. He had grown into a stronger frame of a man, yet there still was doubt in his eyes when he acted. “Once that is done we will need owls to send out word to as many people as we can, offering them sanctuary here, at Hogwarts.

“We've been cut off from the rest of the world for too long,” Harry said. “I'll be contacting what is left of the Ministry shortly myself. They will know me as Fawkes, you will address me as Fawkes.” His eyes moved around the room, glaring at them with a fire of knowledge.

“But why? Why not Harry?” Mrs. Weasley asked. He looked at her, surprised at the question. Mrs. Weasley had grown to expect answers from everyone. Harry never gave direct ones unless he felt otherwise. Not anymore at least.

“Because I said so, is that enough of an answer for you?” Harry said. “If I felt like you needed to know I would tell you. But you don't, so you don't need to know.” He looked at them again. “Now, as I was saying, you will address me as Fawkes or Professor Fawkes. But that will be done within the next month.

“The castle is almost completely refurnished and rebuilt.” Hermione could not help but look over at McGonagall and Flitwick. Both wore smiles, however, the cost was evident in their eyes. “I'm hoping to get owls out to any and everyone we can to let them know we're opening up. I think the Headmistress should handle this.” The smile grew on McGonagall's face. Hermione knew that McGonagall had thought Harry was out to take over Hogwarts, the home that she must have know for over forty years. But Hermione knew her Harry well enough that he needed to learn how to teach, and to lean on others from time to time. While he probably could handle the Order, she knew he was not ready to tackle the chores of handling the school.

“Now we have more important things to go over.” He waved his hand, a three dimensional map appearing over the table. “We will be attacking here, here and here.” Three places lit up right on the green map. Hermione had to smile as she watched everyone around her explode. Harry had a certain way of getting his point across, and she could not help but marvel at how well he control the chaos around him. With another wave of his hand, the torches surrounding them burst into flames.

He gave her a smirk, and then had the gall to send a wave, as they had gotten to calling it, through her. She shivered as she rode the wave, only glaring at him when it was over. He had gotten really good at that.

“Are you all going to sit down and act like adults, or am I going to have to put you in time out?” Harry asked. Hermione would have laughed at any other time. She could feel his laughter through their bond, but knew that everyone else thought he was serious. “We will attack all three of these place simultaneously. Mad-eye, will be leading a army regiment with the twins, Neville and Charlie, to attack here.” One of the marks flared blue on the map. “General Jacobson will lead the rest of the army here.” A spot flared yellow. “The remaining area, will be taken down by myself, Ron, Hermione, and Lupin. That is it. Any questions?” Hermione felt too stunned to ask any. He had kept all this hidden from her? How? She had been practicing, touching his mind, melding with it. How did he keep this from her?

“Why are we doing this?” Charlie managed to get out first.

“Why else?” Mad-eye said. “Hit them hard and hit them fast. Bout time we struck back at them.”

“By hitting them at separate locations, we will confuse their tactical responses,” Ron said. Hermione was finally beginning to wrap her mind around the situation and had to agree with him. “With any luck we can deal some massive blows before they can do much damage to us.”

“Which is why the remainder of you will be staying,” Harry said. Hermione held in her sigh of relief, he knew better now then to just leave her on the side. “I need you here to ensure the safety of our injured.”

“Why isn't Hermione staying then? Isn't she our Healer?” Mrs. Weasley asked. While she did not like the tone of the voice the Weasley matriarch used, Hermione did agree with the woman on that point. But she was not going to complain about being placed on the field. Harry had taught her enough to handle just about any thing, and she thought he was working with Ron in the same aspects.

“I chose the team to accompany because I trusted them,” Harry said, pointing to Hermione and then Ron. “And Lupin needs to learn to trust me.” Hermione looked at Harry for a moment before looking at Lupin. Harry wasn't comfortable with saying that last part, she could feel his discomfort and embarrassment, but she knew he had to say it. Lupin had to know that he had lost Harry's trust. Lupin however did not look to happy at this.

“Harry is the leader of the Order, and as the leader, you should respect his commands.” Hermione said She looked at everyone at table. While they may not respond to Harry's glare, she knew they would respond to hers. The joy she felt knowing her “mad/angry” look still worked, even after five years on the shelf.

“Thank you Hermione,” Harry said. “As I was saying.” He waved his hand again, the map focusing in on red flare this time. She had to guess the area was on the continent, probably near the Mediterranean Sea, judging by the sea near the edge of the map. Or at least, it looked like a sea on the large map. “Here is where the most important attack will be initiated. I am leading a group here for a specific reason.”

“A Horocrux?” Tonks asked. Harry had filled everyone in on the Horocruxes privately. He had taken the aside, one by one, telling them that if anyone outside the Order learned it from that person, they would find no mercy from him.

“No,” Harry said. He waved his hand again, the map focusing in on what looked like Egyptian buildings, with the pyramids in the background. “In my travels abroad, I watched as a man that looked like Riddle enter this place, only to leave rather soon after. Not enough time to place a Horocrux or to do much damage. But he did leave something there. A message on the wall. I don't know, I couldn't get in.”

“What makes you think we can?” Lupin said. Hermione, while wanting to glare at him, did agree with Lupin. What made Harry think that they could get through wards, if those were what stopped him?

“Between the four of us, I bet we can get in,” Harry said. “I didn't know at the time what I know now, and now I bet we know enough to get through it.”

“When are we going to attack?” Mad-Eye asked.

“All Hallow's Eve,” Harry said. He waved his hand again, making the map disappear. He really needed to tell her how he kept doing these wandless acts of magic. “Its time that Riddle learns to hate that date as much as I do.” With that Harry left them, Hermione watched as the little boy walked away from them. The same little boy that she knew who refused to grow up, yet had to anyway. Way too fast.

I0I

Harry sat in his office, idly flipping through a journal he had kept. He could remember everything, but it was a mediation process the monastery had taught him. He might let Hermione read them before he burned them. The less people knew about his past, the less pity he could get from them. Hermione however seemed to make it a goal of hers to know everything and anything he did in the past. He thought himself lucky to get away with telling her what really had happened to his daughter. The thought still made him shudder.

Setting down his book, he felt a rush of magic pass through him. With a smile, he popped over to the Hospital wing. It was time. He had heard the call several hours earlier, and had popped over to see Hermione prepare Fleur. He had told Hermione to call him when the contractions started to get closer and more painful. Such was the reason for his call.

“We ready?” He said with a smile. The three other people in the room jumped. Hermione had already set Fleur up on the bed, Bill by her side. He felt magic in the air, again, much like the magic that he had felt the first time he had met the child. Where did this evil come from?

“Everything alright?” Harry asked, moving around to the front of the bed. Pushing the sheets over her knee's he ignored the looks of both Bill and Hermione. He had done this both, he had already told them that. “Bill, was Fleur hit with a curse during the first attack?” Bill and Fleur shared a look before he nodded. “Hermione, I need you to get me a large base of cool water and a rag. Do you remember what the curse was?”

“No, but the field medic said it would have no lasting effect,” Bill said, looking confused. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing I can't fix it,” Harry said, letting his eyes slip out of focus so he could try and see the magic. He hadn't done that since he was looking for Hermione, and although he knew he could, his coordination failed him at times in this state. I hope. “Hermione, I'm going to need you to cancel all of the spells.”

“What? Why? What about-?”

“Hermione! Just do it!” He snapped. He could see the tentacle of black wrapping around Fleur's stomach. Fleur's panting increased and he vaguely heard Bill moan as she must have tightened up her grip. She relaxed, the contraction passing. The tentacle tightened its grip around her stomach, but she did not notice. “Fleur, I'm going to need you to tell me when contraction hits.”

“Harry what's going on?” Hermione said. The rest of the spells were gone. That only made the problem easier to spot, but no worse to fight.

“I don't know, but I'm going to try and fix this,” Harry said. He placed his right hand on her stomach, watching as his were wrapped in black.

Taking a deep breath, he let the fire inside flood the room. It touched not a soul, but he let it surround Fleur. Let it surround her stomach and her child. He heard them yelling at him, Hermione? He pushed himself further. He felt the fire becoming one with the black tentacles. Any moment, now...any moment.

Fleur's breath picked up and he felt the tentacles loosen. He couldn't move, not yet. “'arry?” There, that time it was Fleur's voice.

With a primal roar, he tried to tear his arms away from Fleur's stomach. He felt the burning finally hit his arms, his chest, his heart. He was not going to let this child die. Pulling against her stomach once again, Harry felt the sudden resistance of the black. He had to stop as the tentacles tightened. Letting his eyes go back in focus, he knew they could not see what he had.

“How we doing Fleur?” Harry asked. The sweat running down his face stung as it entered his eyes. He felt a cloth placed against his forehead, wiping away the sweat. “I meant to use that on Fleur.”

“Well, what you mean, and what happens are two different things,” Hermione said, wringing out the cloth in another bowl. “Now, you going to tell us what's going on, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?” Harry tried to smile, but cringed as the tentacles tightened against his hands.

“The curse, it did something to your soul Fleur, I'm going to remove it,” Harry said, cringing once again.

“Will it 'urt?” Fleur asked. Harry looked at her for a moment, before smiling at her.

“It won't hurt you at all,” Harry said. “We've got a few minutes, so I'm going to try and explain what happened.” He really was just talking to himself to make sure they could not see the pain that was going through him. He needed them to see him as a strong man. He had never been anything but. Even to his daughter, and granddaughter, rest their souls.

“You better explain Potter,” Hermione said, gathering some more materials. She was preparing for the birth. He hadn't the heart to tell then yet that it needed to be done without magic, otherwise it might kill the baby. He'd take control again.

“My pleasure love,” Harry said. “The curse is designed to slowly siphon off the energy from the host into itself. Its a parasite. The kind that I've only seen cast by other mages.” Harry gave Hermione a pointed look at this. I mean us. She nodded after a moment of surprise. She obviously wasn't expecting to hear thoughts yet. “On pregnancy, the effect of the curse only magnifies. Because now it can effect not one life, but two. As the contractions hit though, the infant fights back, natural with his or her own will. Marvelous thing it is the survival reflex. The child will fight right to the death, taking the curse with it, just to save his or her mother.” He stopped at this, pausing to think over everything that had happened. “It should have been gone, your son. It should have been gone.” Before he could tell them what he had wanted to say, he felt the current of pain ripple through Fleur and into him. He let his eyes slid out of focus to see his work.

“ARRGH!” He screamed. It was unlike anything he had every felt before. The fire burned down his back, down his arms and onto his hands. Gripping tightly to the black wraps, he pulled. With another scream, he felt the fire flood from his hands onto Fleur's stomach. He felt Fleur's scream; he knew he was causing her no pain, but the curse was fighting back. He was thankful for the reprieve as the tentacles tightened once more.

“Is this going to work?” Bill asked. Harry looked up, his breathing heavy.

“It will,” Harry said. Fleur's eyes were pained, not of the physical world. “Hermione. Next time a contraction hits, collect me tears.”

“What?” He turned toward her, trying to take Fleur's pain into his body. “Harry?” Her concern rippled through him, and all he wanted to do was hold her close. Nodding once, he turned back to Fleur.

“I swear, on everything I have, on every fiber of my body, your child will live,” Harry said. He didn't know how long he stared at her, but when the moment passed he knew he had one last chance. “Fleur, I want you to place your hands above mine. Don't touch them, but like we did back in your room, remember that?” She nodded, the fear growing to the surface. He stood his ground, he was the mountain, unmoving, unwilling to let go of those he protected. “Bill, place your hands over hers, but do not touch mine. Whatever you do, do not touch mine.” He vaguely saw him do as he asked. He barely heard Bill asking Hermione what was going on. He never heard Hermione reply, or felt her wrap her arms around Harry's waist.

His eyes saw the magic, now as colors. The green of Fleur and white of Bill were outside his own fiery hands wrapped in black. The child held a brighter color all together, much like a green and white paint before it completely mixed together. He felt his fires grow, burning brighter as he stared into Fleur's magic. He could see her Veela blood flowing through her, in the green flashes here and there.

Time had stopped for him. It did not matter anymore what time was what. It didn't matter how long the contraction was or if it passed. What matter was what he could do.

The squirming of the tentacles were beginning to worm into his hands. His fire could not stop them. It never could stop the darkness on its own. He let the fires go deeper in Fleur, touching the baby's magic much like he had before.

The baby had so much potential. Harry wanted to turn his eyes away, he wanted to avert them from magic he knew that could grow from within that child. But he couldn't. He couldn't quit.

I believe in you Harry. He felt the tightening around his stomach grow and move around to his shoulders. You can do this. Believe in yourself. He could feel the magic Hermione had seep into his body, as the blues and pearly whites she had stretched down his arms. He wanted to look back at her, to kiss her. But he couldn't. He couldn't quit.

Guiding Hermione's magic into Fleur's unborn child, he stretched his out, past the black curse. He felt the pain rush through him, but he pushed on, he had to push on.

The mountains came back to him. He could see them again. He could see them growing into the clouds, stealing the sky away from the blues and the birds. The glory of the mountains wasn't in how much destruction they held within their depths, but within the bursts of passion that each fire, every goblin and dragon held. It was the same passion he had found on the plains. But there, where the plains stretched to beyond and then farther, he could see the passion with the community and within their swift need for self-respect. Closing his eyes, he no longer just saw the plains and the mountains of his mind. He became them.

He would not quit.

He had the strength of the mountains, and the life of the plains at his hands. His fires of passion would not lose this child. But he had to let them go. He knew he could not save them all.

So, Harry let go of his control.

He let go of control over the fires that were held in the mountains. He let go of the strength and solidarity of the plains. He let go of the passion he held. He let go of his fear. And as the tears fell down his face, he gave one final push. Not to rip the curse off of the baby, off of Fleur. But to get through the blackened walls the curse had built.

Harry felt his magic flare, he felt his magic grow. It had been a long time since he had a chance to practice, and to let his magic grow. It did naturally over time, but rarely did he ever stretch his magic like he had now. Rarely, did he burn with a sun's fury. As it did though, his fire burned beyond just flame. It joined the light of the plains. He became the light of passion and righteousness.

With a final burst of energy, he pushed through the tentacles. He reached the magic both Fleur and Bill had. Wrapping his own magic within theirs, Harry drew his magic back into his body. He felt Hermione draw her magic back, taking the child's with hers. He felt her draw his magic back through him. He felt many things that mattered, and many things that didn't. As the baby's magic touched the parents, there was too much good for the curse to take.

With a final tug, he withdrew his hands. He felt Hermione bring something up to beneath his eyes. He watched the parents hold their child, tears free falling down their cheeks.

“We have another hour,” Harry said after he found his found. “To be safe, we're not going to be using any magical means during the birthing process beyond checking on your vitals and that of the child.” Hermione removed herself from around him, holding a vial of his tears.

“What do you want me to do with these?” She asked, holding them reverently. He smiled at her for a moment, holding onto the end of the bed to stay standing. He needed to sit, for a while, at least a bit before the baby came.

“Fleur, Bill, I need you to remove your hands for a moment,” Harry said. He motioned with his head to Hermione. Closing his eyes, he could not stop the flinch that hit him as they gasped. They could see the burns now along the side of her stomach. The burns had formed vaguely where his hands had been. As Hermione poured half of the vial, steam flowed off her sides. By the time she had poured the other half on, the first side was healed.

“You feeling better now Fleur?” Harry asked.

“Yes, zank you 'Arry,” she said. He held back his smile as her eyes never left Bill's, or Bill's hers.

“We'll leave you two along for a bit, we have some things we still need to prepare,” Hermione said. He let her drag him to the other side of the room before nearly throwing him into a chair. Sitting down in his lap, he barely registered her wrapping her arms around his neck. The feeling rolling off her was something completely different. “You're going to tell me exactly what we did. Right now, you have more important things to do.”

“Like what?” Harry asked. It was his last conscious thought for a while as she stole his breath. He felt his calm center returning, like how he felt when Hermione pushed her magic into him.

“Harry, what's going on?” Hermione pulled away, and he let out a groan. Why did the good things have to get interrupted?

Ron and what looked like to be the rest of the Weasleys were standing just inside the doorway of the Hospital wing. Apparently Hermione had dragged him in that direction. Who knew?

“What's going on in here?” Molly asked again.

“Before you interrupted? I was making out with my girlfriend,” Harry said, standing up from the chair. He chanced a glance over at the awaiting parents. There were no more feelings of distress, relief if anything. He glared back at the matriarch. “If you were needed you would have been told. For now, leave us be.”

“We have a right to be here,” Molly said. “That's our son.”

“And that's his wife on that hospital bed,” Harry said, looking back at the two of them. “Now that we've established that, why did you come down here?” Hermione kissed his check before glaring at Molly and heading toward Fleur and Bill.

“We're here to seem Bill,” Molly said again.

“And there is nothing wrong with him, so have a nice day,” Harry said. He turned away, walking toward Fleur.

“We're just about ready?” Harry said, stepping beside Hermione. She had finished her diagnostics, nothing seemed to be wrong. Any more. “The birth is going to be natural.” He knew that many mothers insisted on the pain medication, but in this scenario he just could not risk giving her anything.

“I wouldn't 'ave it any other way.” Fleur said, smiling as she began to pant. “'Ow much longer?”

“A few minutes, then we'll start having you push,” Harry said. He moved Fleur's legs apart, pulling the bed sheet up to make a tent. “The crowning will begin shortly.”

“What? What's going on here?” Molly had dragged her family with her, clearly disregarding his order.

“Molly, we are under a strict time line here, I need you to leave.” He walked around the bed to the nightstand, washing his hands in a basin Hermione had left there.

“Not until you tell me what's going on,” she said.

“Mother, I want you to leave now,” Bill said, looking up from Fleur. “You caused too many problems last time, and I'm not letting that happen again.” Molly looked taken back by his statement, but Harry knew she was gearing for a fight. He was just surprised who stepped in to stop her.

“Molly, your children 'ave grown up,” Fleur said. Bill and Hermione took her hands, letting her squeeze them as she panted her way through her words. “Its time to let zem go.” Molly stumbled backward into the arms of her sons. She looked like she had been slapped, which Harry through might not have been that bad of an idea right about now. “Zey need to live zeir own lives, not 'ave you live it for zem.” Fleur let out a scream her face contorting as a contraction hit her.

“I'm going to tell you to leave. Now,” Harry said, he quickly put on the gloves and moved around in front of Fleur. The head was beginning to come out of her. The child had come down the right way, he didn't have to worry about that at least. “Fleur, don't push, not yet. Bill, help her with her breathing.” The infant was coming out slowly, and the scream from Fleur told him that he needed to hurry it along. He would not risk the magic yet. He did not know if the child had any traces the curse left. He'd only be able to tell after checking the infant. “You're doing great Fleur.”

Looking up from her, he could still see the Weasleys standing, looking dumbstruck as Fleur gave birth. “Ron, Arthur, someone, get your family out of here.” That appeared to do the trick as both Arthur and Ron took to moving their family out of the wing. He couldn't have the distractions that Molly kept causing.

Once back on the task at hand, Harry could see more of the head coming out. Placing his hand underneath the infant's head, Harry looked up at Hermione. She had been casting diagnostic spells for quite some time, checking on both Fleur and her child. He felt a slight concern over their bond. He caught her eye and motioned for her to let him see the results. As she floated them over to him, he could see that the heart rate of the child had decreased at little. Not too much, but he needed to keep an eye on it.

A few more minutes passed, and now the head was almost clear, and one shoulder. “Don't push yet, Fleur, I know you want to but the head is too soft. Just keep panting, and I'll let you know when you can push.” Then he saw the umbilical cord, tight around the baby's neck like a blue-gray serpent, choking the life away. His fingers were too thick and clumsy to dislodge it. He did not want the parents to worry, and Hermione could sense it over their bond. He shook his head, letting her know that there was nothing that she could do. How he wished that they could speak to each other through the bond by now?

Fear touched him then. While he had delivered babies before, only twice he had seen this happen, and then he wasn't the acting doctor on duty. He only watched. The first time the surgeon had cut the cord. The child had lived but the woman had died, for the afterbirth had not come away cleanly, remaining inside to rot and poison the blood. That was not an option for him. The second time the cord had effectively strangled the infant. “Don't push Fleur. Not yet.”

“It 'urts,” she said through tears. Harry could hear Bill comforting her, but fear was in his voice as well. Taking a deep breath, Harry supported the head of the infant with his left hand, then, as gently as he could, eased the little finger of his right hand under the cord. Twice it slipped back into place, but the third time he hooked it, drawing it carefully over the head.

He let out a breath, and smiled up at Fleur. “You may push now, everything is okay.” As if letting the dam fell, Fleur grunted and the baby slid into Harry's hands. The babe's face and body were covered in grease and blood. Swiftly, Harry tied the umbilical cord off, then cut it. He could not see any damage to the child as his eyes shifted for him to see magic. The curse did not hurt him, thankfully. “This will just take a moment.” Harry said, motioning for Hermione to follow him. She was getting rid of the placenta and the rest of the fluid, quickly cleaning Fleur up to ensure no infections would occur. “We're going to clean him up for you.”

“'Im?” Fleur said a glow of joy covering her face. Harry nodded, before walking over to a small cart that Hermione had set up.

With a blanket, he began to wipe away all of the blood and amniotic fluid, then cleared the air passage way with a simple flick of his wrist, vanishing the fluid in there. Child's cries slowly began to fill the air. He then began to check the arms and legs. While they looked a little blue, he wasn't making assumptions until the one minute mark. “Apgar test?” Hermione asked as she came up beside him holding a blue blanket. He smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek before checking the child once more.

“1 on appearance, a little blue. Heart rate seems fine now, 2. Grimace and Activity ,one.” As the cries punctured the air, he could not help but stare at Hermione's smile. “Two for respiratory effort.”

“7, not great, but not too bad,” Harry said. He continued to move the baby's feet and arms, and began to feel some resistance. As the little boy began to move slightly, and Harry knew he was cold, but it was only a few more minutes. As Harry continued to move the boy's little legs and arms, watching as the circulation improved to a healthy pink state. The child gripped his fingers, crying out as he moved around on the table.

“Everything okay?” Harry turned toward Bill. Looking at Hermione, and checking his watch, he mouthed 9. She nodded, giving him a smile. With a quick flourish, Harry had wrapped the little boy with a blond tuft of hair into a blanket. Handing him to the father, Harry directed Bill back to his wife.

“Everything is perfect,” Harry said, as Bill sat next to Fleur. She took the crying child into her arms, rocking him gently. Harry was still amazed as bond between a mother and her child. Or the father and his child. This was now his twenty third birth, and how the child could just stare at his mother, so calm and feel the love rolling off of his parents was amazing.

“You'll have your chance one day,” Hermione said, wrapping her arm around his waist. Harry had raised a child, but he had never been apart of the birth of his own. He wanted nothing more than to be normal, and that to him signified a normal family. Bill, Fleur and their son were a normal family. He smiled at her as she reached up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. “I'll make sure of it.” Her blush was evident on her face as she leaned up to kiss him.

“Harry, Hermione, come over here for a moment,” Bill said. Harry looked up from Hermione over to the family and felt a little uncomfortable invading on a private moment. Hermione wasn't going to let him though; she pulled him toward the bed and sat next to Fleur so she could look at the baby. “Met Jonathon Arthur Weasley.” Harry stepped beside Hermione, his arm around her shoulder.

“He's so cute,” Hermione said as Fleur rocked her son. Fleur had yet to take her eyes off of him, and Harry honestly did not blame her. The child had gone through a lot to be born. So did Fleur. Now that it was over, it must be a little slice of heaven for Fleur and Bill.

“We wanted to ask you a question,” Bill said. Fleur finally looked up at Bill first then turned to look at Harry and Hermione.

“We want you to be ze godparents,” Fleur said. Hermione squealed and nodded, a smile plastered across her face. Harry however, didn't know how to feel.

“Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't you rather want one of your brothers?” Harry asked. Bill shook his head, his eyes turning back down to Fleur.

“We talked about it, and we know that we'd rather have no one else teach our son how to live if we should...” His voice trailed off here.

“Bill, nothing will take you away from your son,” Harry started.

“Even you can't guarantee that,” Bill said with a chuckle. “Besides, you have been more of a family member to me than some of my brothers. I trust you Harry, we trust you.” Looking down at the child, had he wanted to cry, he would have. Now more than ever did the pain of his daughter's death hit him. And now more than ever, did he knew what he was fighting for.

I0I

Hermione didn't know which surprised her more: Harry curing Jonathon like he had or him crying at the end. Between his strengths and his emotions, Harry truly was the man of her dreams. He wasn't afraid to stand up to her, but he never forced her to do something she didn't want to do. While she wasn't ready to take her relationship to the next level and getting into bed with him, she did know that it would be him that she let take her virginity.

It was only an hour ago that she had cleared out the Hospital wing of all of the Weasleys. Harry had let them in after the new family had a few minutes to themselves. Harry had stood off to the side, watching the interactions of the Weasleys. Hermione would have put money on him not even speaking, even as Mrs. Weasley walked up to him.

The woman had tried to apologize. She kept saying that she had only done what was right for her family. Hermione truly believed that if she was not there, then Harry would have done something he would have regretted. Instead, Harry said the one thing that probably hurt Mrs. Weasley the most. “My family is dead.” He turned and walked out of the hospital wing, and she really hadn't seen him since.

Harry's words didn't settle well with Hermione. Did he not consider her a part of his family? The international man of mystery was what Harry was. He brought so many questions onto himself, yet he refused to answer any of them. Except on his terms. Not anymore though.

She had finished cleaning up the hospital wing now, and had sent Bill and Fleur on their way with what supplies that she could. All that was left for her to do was find Harry. Know him, he was holed up in either his office or on top of the Astronomy tower. But with the way he left, she knew he probably didn't want company.

Love? She tried to send. All she got was silence. She could feel him through their bond, but that was it. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she headed back toward her office. Grim had decided to follow her there, instead of staying with Harry. The mutt had decided to really take care of her, much like Harry had told him to. Sitting down on her bed, she took the moment to relax. She tried again. Love, please, let me in. Leaning back against the bed, she let out a breath. That had been a lot harder than she had thought. Hermione would have to practice quite a bit to get to the leave where they could speak easily without this draining her.

I'm sorry. Harry sent back to her. She shuddered as her emotions caught the wave of his. I'm at the kitchen if you want to find me.

Hermione shook her head before getting up. Her want to rest was outweighed at the moment by her want to work through this problem with Harry. Heading toward the kitchen, she grew curious as to why he was done there. After the attack on Hogwarts, the kitchen's closed up. The house elves disappeared and it was up to them to take care of the castle. People finally began to appreciate the work that the house elves did.

“Harry, we need to talk,” Hermione said, coming up to his side. He nodded, staring at the picture of fruit.

“So, the kitchen just closed?” He asked, looking back at her.

“Yeah, why did you leave so suddenly after the birth,” Hermione asked. He shrugged his shoulders, but she felt the answer he was hiding.

“You never tried to get in?” Harry asked.

“We did, it just never worked.” Hermione moved in front of him. He wasn't looking at her, still the damn picture. “HARRY JAMES POTTER!” His eyes snapped down toward her and she could see the little fear in them. “Now, what's wrong?” She reached up, touching his cheek.

“Do I deserve a family?” Harry asked. He didn't wait for the answer before reaching over and tickling the pear. The portrait creaked open, dust falling onto the ground and onto them. “Why didn't anyone try that?” He didn't want for an answer and pushed the portrait out further and stepped inside. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Hermione stomped her way in after him.

“Harry Potter, you will stop this instant,” she said as she entered. He did as she asked, whether because he was afraid of her or what he saw, she didn't know. She knew she stopped because of what she saw.

All the lights were off, dust covered every inch of the once impressive kitchen. The only light came from a iron belly stove, its front open to let a great deal of heat into the room. The small shape of something moving was in front of the fire startled her slightly. She had thought the house elves had all disappeared after the attack.

“Hey Dobby,” Harry said as he crunched next to the figure.

“Is that you, Harry Potter sir?” The figure sat up and Hermione finally gathered the courage to take a step closer.

Dobby sat in a rocking chair, moving slowly. Hermione bit down on her tongue as she stared at the shell of the former exuberant elf. His eyes were closed and there looked like there was a scar running along his face. But his movements were even slower, as if he had aged a hundred years or so.

“You can back for Dobby?” Harry lifted the small elf off of the chair and into his lap. Harry nodded; he was not going to cry, that was not his way, unless he let his walls down. But the pain on Harry's face told Hermione all she needed to know. Something had gone wrong, and Harry blamed himself for it.

“Of course Dobby, I'm sorry it took so long,” Harry said,. “I thought I'd be able to come back after the summer was over.” Dobby's eyelids opened, and Hermione held back a gasp. His eyes were white, blank. Who had done this to him?

“Its okay, Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said in a staggered breath. He coughed once, and it seemed to pain Harry even more. “Dobby forgive you.” Harry nodded and if anything, pull Dobby closer to his chest. Hermione knelt next to them. Wrapping her arms around both of them, she did nothing to stop her tears. “Will Harry Potter sir honor Dobby's wish?”

“Dobby, it would be my honor,” Harry said. Hermione looked up from Dobby's sad eyes to Harry's before back down at Dobby again. “I, Lord Harry Potter-Black, do take Dobby into my service.” Had the rush of magic not surround them, Hermione would have slapped Harry. Magic that Dobby seemed to draw upon took away the aged look, took away the sadness in his blank eyes, bringing back the color to Dobby's as well. She watched as the magic stole the scar from Dobby's face, and the tired smile grew into the high-spirited one that Dobby used to wear.

“Thank you, thank you, Harry Potter sir, Dobby will do his best to make Harry Potter sir proud of Dobby,” Dobby said, jumping up and out of Harry's arms. Wrapping her arms around his waist, Hermione smiled onto his shoulder as she nuzzled against it.

“You already made me proud,” Harry said. Dobby stopped moving at this, tears welling in his eyes. “You saved my life Dobby. That makes you my hero.”

“Dobby Harry Potter sir's hero?” He asked, still slightly shaken by Harry's words.

“If you saved my Harry's life, that makes you my hero too,” Hermione said. Harry smiled at her before pulling her around so she could sit next to him instead of behind him. She felt a warmth spread through her as Harry's feelings spread over their bond.

“Dobby is Harry's Minnie's hero too?” Dobby asked. She felt her cheeks warming at the name Dobby had given her, but nodded nonetheless. “Dobby will do anything Harry's Minnie asks Dobby.” He was now bouncing on the balls of his feet. Hermione leaned over to kiss on his on the head, causing a bright blush to spread across Dobby's face. It did also stop him from bouncing up and down.

“If you wanted to, you could start by gathering what elves you can to work at Hogwarts again,” Harry said. Dobby nodded excitedly, his body bouncing up and down with his movement. With a 'pop” the elf had disappeared, heading off to start on Harry's order. Hermione frown at the thought. She didn't like slavery, even if the person wanted to be a slave. “Its not slavery unless the “master” makes it so. I have no intention of ruling over Dobby. He works for me, and he's still being paid, just now, we are bonded, in a way at least.” Hermione looked at him for a moment before shaking her head.

“Every time I've got a question for you, you make me want to ask another hundred,” Hermione said. “Now, are you going to tell me why you don't deserve a family? Or should I tell you why you do deserve a family. A loving family at that.” He looked at her for a moment, confused. “Oh, Harry. Every fiber of you says you're a father. The protective looks you send over the children, the fervor that you fight for us. The love that smiles in your eyes as you watch us or someone you know achieve something new. Grace is proud of you. I'm only disappointed that I didn't get to meet the girl you raised.” Harry nodded, pulling her closer to his chest.

“I just don't want to lose anyone else,” Harry murmured into her hair. “I'll tell you one day, Hermione, when I can, but right now, just let me be.”

“We'll wait to talk about this, but I'm telling you now, you are not going to be alone, ever again.” She sent a wave to him I'll make sure of that.

Thank you love. Harry pulled back and kissed her gently on her lips. As she broke to breath, he leaned against her forehead, a smile stuck on his face. I think we've reached the next level in our bond.

It leaves me tired though. Hermione leaned against his body even more. The day had been a long one, and ever since she had pushed her magic through Harry, she felt the grip of sleep even stronger than before. Talking through the bond only pushed her further toward exhaustion. “Will you take me back to my room?”

“I'll take you to mine,” Harry said, lifting her up off the ground. She shifted slightly, not used to this change in equilibrium. His body was warm, and it felt good against hers. She wanted to protest about being in his room, that they needed to be practical, but she felt too tired to say anything Rest love, I'll be there for you when you wake. Had she the strength she would have responded. With a smile on her face, she fell into her dreams, content and protected.

A/N: If anyone knows how I can get color up onto this site within the text, I'd be much obliged, thank you for the help. Hope you're enjoying everything so far. Chapters happen when I can find time to write between the periods of tests I have. I might get one out again by the middle of March. Fingers crossed. Thanks again and hope you are enjoying this so far. Ciao!

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Chapter Twelve: Choices...

We all have big changes in our lives that are more or less a second chance. Harrison Ford (1942 - )

Harry felt like he was being torn in three different directions, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. In less than a week's time, they would be attack three separate points, and he would be leading an assault outside of Cairo. That alone made him train Ron, Remus and even Hermione harder than the others. They would not know what they were going up against until it was too late. All he had to do was hope they trusted him enough to believe that he knew what he was doing. Which, if he was honest with anyone, he didn't.

All he knew was there was something outside of Cairo that needed their attention. And the other attacks should be strong enough deterrents to Riddle's forces that the magical world will crawl out of its shell. He was tired of looking out past the lake at Hogwarts and seeing nothing but darkened mountains. He wished he could just rest in his mountains, even for a day.

There was not a moment that his mountains didn't call to him. He never told Hermione that, how the call to a place called home, only seemed to intensive when she wasn't around. He didn't know if he could. Even with their bond, the plains seemed all to distant sometimes if she wasn't there. If he needed, he could call them. But after living in the mountains for so long, it was like he had buried his anger there. For a long time, he had thought that was what had made the mountains grow as much as they did. He knew he was wrong now.

Passion fired his flames, built his mountains. Passion for life, for hope, for love. He had left Grace after her attack, and only returned when he had found that passion again. When Grace had her daughter. He couldn't remember a time when he was happier. Back then at least. He had lost that daughter and granddaughter, and he had thought he had lost his mountains as well. Now, now was different.

It hurt to have Hermione away from him. It hurt just to know that she was somewhere that he couldn't be. She had made the offer, and he had turned it down. Too much was happening too fast. Everyone needed him. But he knew she needed him more.

“Am I strong enough Grace? Can I let her in?” He looked out from upon the Astronomy Tower. He came up here a great deal, trying to think. More often than not, Hermione found him and snapped him out of his thoughts. Not now. He slipped her a sleeping draught. She had been working too much. Now he had a chance to think about what he wanted out of a relationship.

Seventy years of solitude could do that to some. Confuse a person, making it hard not to hold back everything they had. That had certainly happened to Harry. For so long, he had repressed any feelings he had. Despite looking younger, he still was an old soul. A lonely old soul.

He had given up a lot to make sure he could return. He had given up a normal family, with a child that loved him dearly. He thought he had returned because it was the right thing to do. That was what he had told himself over the years. Being back though, seeing Hermione again, made him rethink that stance.

Running a hand through his hair, he wanted to fly. Fly from this tower, from this castle, from this damn war, from his problems. One thing kept him firmly planted on the ground though. One thing. An anchor of sorts now that he thought of it.

Hermione.

He had to learn how to depend on himself without her, he had to learn how to be Harry sans Hermione. It was different, a lot more difficult that he had originally thought it was going to be, and then he had thought it was going to be rough. Not being able to handling life without her was what drove him to trying to kill himself. Life was just not life without her in his life. And until that moment he had not realized how much Harry had depended on Hermione.

So he chose to forget, and he chose to push away all thoughts about her, until he knew that he could move on. He never did though. Oh, he forget about her, hid her under pounds of mental bricks so that she wouldn't haunt him as years passed. And she didn't. He had other things to haunt him after the Second Great War.

It wasn't until Grace entered his life, did he realize something was missing. Something he needed desperately. Love. While it wasn't the love that he thought he needed, Grace's presence in his life made bearable, happy even. If but for a little while, he was happy.

The moon rose high over the mountains now, and he felt the cool wind scoring the tower. He relaxed and fell into his mountains. His plains. His world.

He landed upon a dragon, born from the fiery depths of his mountains. The dragons were one of the first things he had made in his mind. It took him quite some time to go beyond just the fire and shields of light he had started with, but once he had the strength, and knowledge, he made his first dragon. Conjuring a dragon like he had took a great deal of anger, passion, and fire. He finally created the dragon on the same day that Grace told him that she was getting married.

As a father, he learned to love differently. To love protectively. Looking back on it now, Harry realized that his love for Grace was no different than the love that he had always felt for people, especially Luna, Ron, the rest of the Weasleys, and everyone else in his family. He wanted to protect them. He wanted to keep them safe, away from from danger. He wanted them to be happy. But now, he felt something different. Something more powerful for Hermione.

His dragon had grown. Into something larger, something stronger. In the beginning, his dragon had looked like the stereotypical dragon, the gigantic sized beast covered in red scales, breathing fire and a wing span like a plane. Like out of the stories that he used to read to Grace when she couldn't fall asleep. He had named the dragon Smaug from Grace's favorite book.

Harry had learned to conjure other dragons, and soon the mountains, and some of his plains, could hold the dozen or so dragons he had at his disposal, but Smaug still remained his favorite. As Grace was his favorite. Time had changed that though. Smaug was no longer the the dragon he remembered.

Smaug's body stretched a mile behind him, weaving through the air. The bright red scales had darkened, now the color of burning coal. His body was now coated in flames that were left in his wake as he moved through the air. His wings were gone, his body propelled upon its will. But that wasn't the biggest different Harry felt. The power of Smaug had changed.

While still the protector of his realm of mountains, he could feel the different in the strength that Smaug lent him. As pure as before, yet rougher, more primal. More human. While Grace was in his life, the power of his mountains and plains seemed almost divine and when he created Smaug that power was infused into the body of the beast. He did not know where the power to make his dragon came from originally, but now... now the magic infused with Smaug illuminated of a different power.

“Should I give you a new name then?” Harry leaned over the dragon's neck and said. The dragon shook his head, and Harry felt the wave course through the dragon's body. Like watching a wave go through a piece of string.

He could remember some of the artwork the monastery had done by a Japanese artist. Some of his mountains had formed in the manner that. Looking at Smaug, he could see the influence of those paintings on his dragon. The dragon was unlike any he had seen in Europe, and looked more like a eel then a lizard. The face though, gave Smaug his dragon appearance.

“How about Ryusei?” Harry asked. Again, the dragon's body shook along with the nod. “Take me away from here. There was another change I'd like to see it.” Another nod, and shock wave through the dragon.

They flew. It was unlike riding his dragon before; this time, if anything, the movement of Ryusei made feel like he was surfing or something. The wave that coursed through Ryusei was violent yet smooth. No matter how much the frequency of the wave increased, Harry was not afraid to fall off. He knew he had to get Hermione out onto Ryusei at some point.

In less than a minute, Ryusei had cleared the mountains. Motioning for Ryusei to turn around, a sense of surprise rushed through Harry as he looked out at his mountains. He had to smile slightly when he could see no difference between them. It meant that his strength had not come from the expansion but his skill in magic. Twisting around on Ryusei, Harry could tell that his plains did not expand either. But there was something different. He had felt them both change.

He leap off of Ryusei after giving the dragon a pat. He knew that it was a long way to the ground, but he was never going to hit the ground. With gravity diminishing the distance between him and the ground, he woke up from his meditation.

Although he had grown accustom to drawing from the mana by instinct, he did not need the meditation beyond journeying inward, and exploring the depths of his soul. Standing from the castle floor, Harry looked out to the darkened mountains once more.

He didn't know what exactly caused the change between him and Hermione, or why he wanted her to be such a strong part of his life, but he knew that she had affected his abilities. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he had done the same for hers.

I0I

Hermione felt sleep still pressing down on her as she woke up. Trying to clear the fog from her eyes, she had to guess that Harry had slipped her something. Laying back into the warm comfort of the bed, she decided she was going to be mad with him later. It wasn't the bed she had set up in her room, Grim wasn't here with her. No, this bed was slightly larger, a little firmer than hers, but the smell was all Harry. That alone made the extra time she spent in it worth it.

Sitting up after several minutes of just lying there, Hermione looked around his room. There was not much in the room. Just the bed covered in a large maroon quilt and some window shades that matched the quilt on the bed. A large armoire was set to the side of a door, which she thought either led to the bathroom, or his office. The other door was the same. She'd have to check on that soon. Beyond that, only a desk with a candle and book open were in the room. He didn't have many personal mementos, or anything to signify that Harry lived in this room and not someone else.

She could not help the smile that formed on her face as Harry entered the room, holding onto a tray of breakfast for her. Seeing him, made her heart flutter. Part of it she knew was the bond, but more than that, it was how she had always felt about him.

“I've got you something to eat, if you feel up to it,” Harry said. Hermione nodded, staring at him for a moment. She wanted him to explain himself before she jumped on him. She could feel his worry, and she knew that something was bothering him.

“You going to tell me what I'm doing here?” Harry just smiled, and placed the tray over her. A complete breakfast of eggs over easy, toast, orange juice and apple slices was what she had to eat today. She shook her head, amazed at Harry's ability to pull resources.

Somehow, he had managed to contact farms and other suppliers to begin to send food and such to the school. When asked why he did, he just stared at them. And them as in everyone in the Order, including her. He asked how they could have not done something like that, how they could have just let things stay the same. He was more puzzled by their question, then it seemed that they were puzzled by his. He was her international man of mysteries.

“You needed some sleep, and I didn't want anyone to bother you.” He shrugged his shoulders once before, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I've got some work to do, you can finish the meal, then join me outside when you're done.”

“Are we going to talk about yesterday?” Hermione asked. He gave her an odd look, like he didn't know what she was talking about. She let out a sigh and moved the tray off her lap. Crawling out of the bed (she was surprised at how big it was), she moved to wrap her arms around him. He seemed to ascent to the act, meeting her halfway.

“You are worth everything good in the world Harry,” Hermione said. By the look on his face, she knew she would have to spend at least the better part of a decade to get him to fully understand that, but that was not going to stop her from starting now. When she pulled back, she could see the beginnings of a smile, and the sadness in his eyes.

As if he was reading his mind, he said, “if you keep telling me that, I might just believe you one of these days.” He kissed her forehead once again before leaving her in the room. Like warm breeze in autumn.

Hermione let out a frustrating sigh. He seemed to understand her need to talk about their relationship, but he kept putting it off. She went back to the tray, knowing that she needed to eat something if she wanted to research today. Harry wouldn't let her otherwise. And although she knew he would never hurt her, she knew the only time he was forceful with her was when she was too wrapped up in her work.

One question at a time, was the only way she knew how to take the situation. The largest question was a work in progress, and she knew she could not have to hold off on talking about one at least: his fear of never having a family.

Harry had just laid her in his bed with her clothes on, which Hermione was thankful for. It saved them from having more awkward moments between them, or at least, more than usual. Somehow he seemed to have made it an art in avoiding awkward moments. Throwing a quick refreshing spell over her, she felt the dirt and grime of the previous day disappear. Although it did clean her up, including her clothes, she knew that it was only temporary, masking the problems for a short time before they came back.

“You want to explain something to me?” Hermione asked. Harry looked up from a series of maps he had laid across his desk.

“About?” He turned back to the maps, marking something on one with a pen.

“About not having a family; about your family being dead,” Hermione said, sitting in his chair. She knew she had him; his body had stiffened and he had stopped moving.

“I don't have one,” he said. Hermione tried not to feel hurt at his comment, or at least she tried not to let him know she was hurt by it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through their bond a little, forcing him to open it up further than he had. There was a pain there, one that she knew she had to take care of immediately.

“What about me?” she asked. He looked up at this, and she must not have done as well with her emotions as she thought. “Am I not apart of your family?”

“I...what I meant was....” His voice trailed off, and Hermione did not stop the tears that began to fall. Nor did she try and hide the pain that he had caused. Maybe he didn't feel about her the same way she felt about him.

“I understand,” she pushed off the chair, trying to stand. She wanted to be alone right now, and she wanted to work out how foolish she had been.

“Hermione, no I don't think you do,” Harry said, grabbing her arm. She resisted being pulled into his chest, and tried to not let him be the strong one this time. “You don't understand how hard this is for me.”

“How hard it is for you?” Hermione cried, pushing away from him completely. He thankful had let go of her arm. “How about how hard this is for me? I'm the one that has to deal with you when you get lost in thought, and have to explain to everyone what you mean.” She angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. “I'm the one that has to try and figure out what to do to break you out of your shell.” She stared at him for a few moments before walking past him, toward the door. She wanted to get away, no, she needed to. “And I feel like I'm the only one that this relationship means more than life to.” She turned and walked out the door, heading toward her room. She didn't want to talk to anyone.

“Hermione, wait!” Harry tried to call after her, but she didn't want to hear him. She shut their link off to the minimum threshold, the point where he knew she was there, but he could not find her or feel her emotion.

Hermione felt proud of herself. Not because of the pain that had settled in her chest, but of the stoic disposition she managed to keep as she headed back to her office in the hospital wing. Waving her hand, she let her mana flow over the door, locking it behind her as she entered. She would know if someone needed her, but right now, she wanted to be alone.

Sitting down at her desk, Hermione tried to push away her anxiety. If she had known that her bonding to Harry was going to be this rough on her, she might have given it a little more thought. She didn't regret it, she just wished she had known what she was getting involved in before time. It might have helped her adjust a bit.

I0I

Harry stood on the astronomy tower again, this time debating about tossing himself off it or not. He always did this. Mess up whatever good was going for him. And it was almost always for the same thing. Because he could not admit what his problems were and that he could not deal with them

“What can I do for you?” Harry asked. He looked up from over the edge of the tower, to the figure in the shadows by the entrance.

“I figured if we were going to work together, we should talk,” the man said.

“That would be one way of going about it,” Harry said. “But that isn't the reason you're up here is it.”

“Why do you think that?” The man stepped out of the shadows.

“Because Tonks must have tried to talk to Hermione, and she sent you to find me,” Harry said. “Am I right?”

“Why do you act like you know everything?” Lupin said. Harry just shrugged his shoulders, turning back to face the mountains again. “Dammit Harry, you're pushing everyone away.”

“So what if I am?” He kept his voice level, still seeing his mountains. Something was different now, something was off. He couldn't get Hermione's words out of his head; they kept pounding against him, like waves upon a cliff. “So what if I'm trying to readjust to life with people in them?” Lupin glared at him. “I'm not used to having people to lean on, and lets not forget I lived in a monastery for a good decade? Vow of silence and all.” Lupin glared at him for a moment before looking away.

“What happened to you Harry?” Lupin looked back at him.

“I had to grow up,” Harry said. He had lost the venom in his voice. “I'm not Peter Pan or anything.”

“No, you're not,” Lupin said. “You walked here, like you had everything under control, and you probably did.” Lupin shook his head. “Its just difficult for me to understand that you are a grown man, especially since I missed most of that time.”

“I missed most of that time too,” Harry said with a humorless laugh. “Now, I'm here, trying to adjust to everyone again.”

“You could have a little more tact when do it though,” Lupin offered. Harry shrugged his shoulders, knowing that to be true. “You hurt her, pretty badly.”

“I realize that,” Harry said.

“I don't think you realize how much you hurt her, Harry.” He looked back to see Dan walking up through the entrance. “Stacy's with her now. What did you say to her?” He hung his head, absently grabbing the flask he had kept hidden for so long. Harry took a long draw from it, letting the burn comfort him a little.

“Something that I have believed for far too long,” Harry said. “You know the story of Rip Van Winkle? You all are Wip Van Winkle, and I'm the town. My life went on without you, and now I feel you're playing catchup.”

“So you're saying that we should accommodate you” Lupin asked. Dan held his hand back, as if to stop Remus from continuing.

“We've had this discussion before Harry, when you came back to us,” Dan said. “She'll understand.” Harry looked at him for a long time. Why did everyone insist on digging up the past? He had buried it for a reason.

“No, she won't,” Harry said. “How would you feel if Hermione died and it was your fault?” Both men stopped at this, and Harry fought the burning tears in his eyes. Taking another hard draw, Harry spoke again. “Grace died because I failed.” He took another long draw, the comfort of the burn finding him again. He had missed it. “She asked for me to be there and I could, and because of that, she died, they all did.”

“Who is Grace, Harry?” Lupin asked. Dan shook his head, moving closer to the man before them.

“His daughter,” Dan said. He moved to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry only moved further toward the edge of the tower. “What happened Harry?”

“You heard me, I messed up, she needed me and I wasn't there for her,” Harry said. He looked back to the mountains. “I don't know if I could go on, knowing I did the same to Hermione.”

“You already have Harry,” Dan said. Harry felt a bolt of fear rush through him, he felt his heart stop, the air grow cold and damp. He slowly looked at the older men. Lupin was nodding his head along with Dan's statement. Harry wanted to form words, but he found that he could not. He wanted to say something, to tell them they were wrong, but he could not. All he could do was stare.

“She's in her room right now, crying because you think that you do not have a family, that your family was dead,” Dan said. Harry nodded, wondering how the older man had repeated Hermione's words back to him. Or maybe he didn't. Shaking his head, Harry turned back to look at the mountains.

“Grace and my parents are,” Harry said, taking another drink. He held his hand back, offering them some as he leaned on the edge. Neither of them took it. “And don't give me any crap about you all aren't. I know that, but there is a difference.”

“What difference? What if one of us died?” Lupin said, walking toward Harry. “What if Hermione died?” Harry glared at him, the fire growing in his gut. “What would you do then?” A strong wind picked up around them, and he felt the storm building from a distance.

“My methods are my own, but this war would not worth fighting anymore,” Harry said. He took several deep breaths, though the waves of Hermione's words did nothing to calm his fiery heart. “I'd live long enough to finish what I needed to then pass onto the next adventure.”

“What if I told you that you were the cause?” Lupin asked. Harry let out a humorless laugh.

“Impossible,” he said. He shook his head, his hand going over his heart. He felt the flames burning there, the mark of the bond still there. “I could never do that.” Harry pushed that though through his bond, through the fire on his chest. He needed to know she was still there.

“This is war, anything could happen,” Dan said, although he did not look too pleased to be saying it. Harry shook his head.

“While she and I may fight and may hurt each other from time to time, there is still no way my actions could harm her,” Harry said. There, there a pitter-patter of flame back from Hermione. His tension dropped a little. At least she was willing to respond to him still. “Phoenix flames do not harm their mate.” He felt the sun beginning to crawl across the sky. The days were growing shorter, he could feel it in his bones.

“What does that mean?” Lupin asked.

“It means that as a totem phoenix, my flames will never hurt her,” Harry said. He had told them enough of what they needed to know, back to the question at hand. “And there is a difference.”

“What difference?” Lupin asked.

“It comes with being a father,” Dan said. “If you can't protect your family, your loved ones, part of you can't help but question what type of man you are.” Harry nodded, the fear resting finally in the pit of his stomach. The waves stopped crashing so fiercely against his mountains, and felt a little more peace enter him. Someone got it, someone understood.

“Every father's fear is that he will have to bury his child,” Harry said. And no father feels right burying his granddaughter. “And I had to bury mine.” He closed his eyes, praying that he had not conditioned himself to not cry all those years ago. A thought crossed his mind though. He had broken down once, once since he had stopped crying. It was in front of Hermione. She held him as his storm broke and she comforted him.

“Does she know that? Does she know your fear?” Lupin picked up. He seemed to be figuring something out. Harry shook his head, finishing off the flask.

“No, she doesn't,” Harry admitted. “And as hard as it was to bury Grace, I know that if I had to, I would give Hermione up.” He looked over at Dan. He felt a pain settle in his gut. He did not want to say what needed to be said, he did not want to admit it. “If she ever asked me, she could leave. By no way is she trapped with me.”

“You've bonded to her, but not her to you?” Dan asked. Harry nodded and he could see the relief in Dan's eyes. “So she can get out of this?”

“If she wants to, she can,” Harry said. “After the war is over, I'd leave again and she could get back on with her life.”

“What would you do?” Lupin asked.

“Find some place quiet, live my life out,” Harry said. He forced the smile and removed another flask from his jacket. A hand stopped him for bring it to his mouth.

“I think you've had enough,” Lupin said, taking the flask away from him. Harry just shrugged his shoulders. “You could never love another again.”

“I couldn't before I bonded to her, what makes you think I could now?” Harry asked. “It all comes down to her choice. I will stay with her as long as she'll have me. But everyone has to understand, I'm one of the oldest bastards here. I've always been an old soul, what's a few more years.” He looked at the flask in Lupin's hand and debated with himself to take it. “I've seen life and death, hate and love in others. I wouldn't mind finding someone that loved me, and I believe I have. But if not, then she'll go on, and be happy. That's all I want from her. Her happiness will be enough through the bond for me to life off of, at least long enough for me to get my affairs in order.” He held out his hand for the flask, but Lupin seemed to be preoccupied with Harry's words. With a sigh, Harry dropped his hand, realizing he wasn't getting his flask back any time soon.

“What are you going to do then?” Dan asked. Harry held back his smile at the protective look on Dan's face. He had worn that same look when Grace began to date.

“Give her some time to herself, let her figure out what she wants, then try and explain myself,” Harry said. “She's her own woman. I won't tell her what she can or can't do, unless I know the sacrifice is too great for her.”

“Like becoming a totem?” Harry nodded at Dan's question. “That's all I ask of you. You can't cage a bird and expect it to be happy.”

“Which is why she is not bond to me, but I to her,” Harry said. He gave them a sad smile before turning to look at the rising sun. “I think I can talk about our problems now Moony.” He looked back at that werewolf, gaging the man's response. “That is if you want to. Dan you can stay, might be able to help mediate things between us.”

“Sure, if you think that's okay,” Dan said, motioning toward Lupin. Lupin however, had not changed his glare from Harry.

“You've changed,” Lupin said.

“We've established this already,” harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. He bit back the anger at the though that Lupin this was what Lupin was angry with him for. “I have been gone for quite some time.”

“But does that give you the right to come here and treat us as lesser, like we don't know anything?”
“Do you?” Harry asked. He kept his voice level, not wanting to spark any more of Lupin's anger. “The school was in ruins, you were relying on outside help to get you through here. If you had reliable information, it would have been brought up by now. Or rather, it should have been. You asked me here to help get the Horocurxes, correct? And that is exactly what I am doing.”

“What's the deal with this attack then?” Lupin growled. “Sending just four of us, two of them kids-”

“They are not children,” harry snapped. He pushed down the anger he felt growing inside of him. “If I thought they were then I would have finished this damn war on my own.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Lupin said. Harry looked at the man, not surprised that he had stopped him in his tracks.

“It means, that you would have never met Death, you would only have heard of a shadow that cross the night, taking down the enemy,” Harry said. “I may have returned eventually, if I thought they had grown up.” He took a deep breath. “I put no children through hell, only protect them from it.”

“So it took them five years to grow up?” Lupin asked. Ah, there it was, the reason for this. Lupin was angry with him for not returning sooner.

“No,” Harry said.

“So then why not come back the day you left?” Lupin asked. “You left us alone for five years. Five years and you were alive. How could you be so selfish?” Harry felt his head snap on its own, the fire no longer contained.

“I was left alone for nearly eighty years,” Harry screamed. “Ten with the Dursleys, God rest their souls, and seventy in the past. What's five years to a lifetime away from everyone that you had started to think as your family?” He felt heat rising around him, but that did not matter. “Was I selfish, damn straight I was.” While Harry knew he was the source of the heat, Lupin's glare could have melted steel on its own. “And until you get it through your skull that it is okay to be selfish at times, and maybe I even deserve a little time to be selfish, then there is no way you will ever regain my trust.”

He pushed his anger into flames, propelling himself into the air. With a twist, he felt his body change into his totem. He needed to blow off some steam, and it sounded like Dan was ripping Lupin a new one. Maybe the old Marauder might figure out what makes time away so hard, and what makes it even harder to come back.

I0I

“So what's wrong?” That had to have been the sixth time that her mother asked that question, Hermione thought. Not to mention the number of times Tonks asked her the question, and she couldn't forget about Luna's odd ways of asking.

“I'm telling you, I'm fine,” she said, trying to mediate. When she had first left Harry's office, she had been, but with everyone badgering her like they had been now, it had given her absolutely no time to think over the problem that Harry had created in their relationship.

She had slipped into her islands rather easily, the plains were harder to reach without Harry. She would have to talk with him about that when she remembered to be angry with him. No, right now, she was slightly worried about her islands.

They had changed, and the change frankly scared her. When she had first say the sprouting villages, they were very tribal, primitive. Something had changed though. It was a rather big change.

Buildings, towers sprouted up from the very ground before her and bridges stretched from the islands closest to the beach. In the distance, she could see even more islands and some spirals peaking out from the waves.

Before she had a chance to explore, she felt herself being shook out of her realm. Tonks's hands were on her shoulder, and she looked panicky.

“What?” Hermione said with a little more anger than she probably meant.

“”You just zoomed out there,” her mother said. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, and if some asks me if 'I'm okay?' or if 'what's wrong?' one more time, I will hex them,” Hermione said. She stood from her seat behind her desk.

She knew she wasn't normally this angry with people, and had a little more patience, but she had felt Harry's anger spill over their bond. Several times...A single word a slipped through their bond as well, a word that Hermione knew she was going to beat the meaning out of later: granddaughter. Shaking her head, she didn't want to think about that right now.

Moving over to a cabinet Harry had given her, Hermione opened it up, removing the four glasses and a bottle of red wine. Another gift from Harry. How the man managed to get her wine was just another mystery she left up to the ages. She didn't complain when he gave her the bottle, and she certainly wasn't going to complain as she drank it.

“I shouldn't be sharing this with you,” Hermione muttered to herself as she handed out the glasses. Deftly removing the cork, Hermione poured the other ladies a small amount before pouring herself a rather large glass. She sipped it slowly, letting her pallet get used to the taste. She had never had wine before, not even the rare family occasions before this trouble all started.

“Now, are you going to ask me a question that you think you can get an answer for, or are you going to ask if I'm fine again?” Hermione said, putting down her wine glass.

“What happened between you and Harry?” Her mother finally asked.

“We got into a fight, like all couples are prone to do from time to time,” Hermione said. “We were establishing boundaries and when we talk again, we will probably work them out.”

“Harry is very confused,” Luna added. Hermione looked at the younger woman for a moment before nodding.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tonks asked.

“You really think that Harry would have an easy time coming back?” Hermione asked. “He's gone through Hell just to make sure things turned out like they did.” She knew she was angry with him, but she could not help defend him. Probably the same reason why Harry could not help but protect her. It just was the way things were.

“So why are you angry with him?” Her mother asked. Hermione had to be grateful for one thing. Her mother seemed to know which problems she wanted to avoid.

“Harry has his mind set to certain ideas, its is Hermione's job to change that,” Luna said. Hermione felt the smile grow across her face.

“I couldn't have said it better myself,” Hermione said. She nodded her thanks to Luna, taking another small sip from her wine glass. “Although, the topic was far from normal, the despite was like any other in a relationship. Personal, between me and him.”

“Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?” Her mother asked. Hermione let out a sigh. She knew her mother wanted to be involved with her life, as she had not been for the last five years, but this was something she had to deal with on her own.

“Let me try it my way first, and then if it doesn't work, then I'll ask you all what you think,” Hermione said. She had gotten them all to at least agree to that. Now she wanted to get the subject off of her. “So Tonks, you going to tell us what's up with Lupin?” And with that, she was free. At least for a little while as both her mother's and Luna's attention was now on Tonks.

She wanted to slip back to her islands, and look at them, see how they had changed. She felt sure of the knowledge inside of her, yet secure with the change as well. Harry had to know what this meant. And after, only after, she beat some sense into him, she might listen to him, might.

With a smile to herself, she brought her feet underneath and took another drink from the wine. Grim came over, his big eyes begging for some attention. Hermione scratched his head, happy to relax into a normal afternoon as the women around her tried to get information out of Tonks.

A/N: I apologize for such a late update. Real life has kicked my ass from here to Hell, and just now I'm getting back. I've been sorting personal problems out, so I apologize, but here is the next chapter. I should have another one within a month or so. Finals coming up in the middle of May. Thank you all for reading it. I hope I'm balancing the characters well, and would appreciate any suggestions if you think I am doing something wrong. Now that doesn't mean I'll take them, I just would appreciate them. Thank you and read and review.

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Chapter 13: For the Better

The only paradise is paradise lost. Marcel Proust (1871 - 1922)

Harry knew he had not been working with Ron too much. He knew that he hadn't been that good of a friend. That was partly the reason he had set up a meeting with Ron today. He also wanted to see how far Ron had progressed. He had set Ron up with some simple training, similar to what he had given to Hermione, but a little more constrained.

“Its great to finally see you mate,” Ron said, shaking his hand as he sat down in front of the desk in his office. Harry quickly marked the page in his book, noting that he still needed to finish the lesson plan for third years. “Can hardly pull you away from all the work you have to do for even a pickup game of Quidditch.” Harry could not help a laugh.

“Yeah, it would be fun to do that some time,” Harry said. “Maybe you could help organize something, you know to help boost morale a little before we head off.” His eyes lit up at this, and Harry figured that Ron was getting bored. “So how have you been? I'm sorry I haven't made too much time.”

“Besides my head hurting every night from that damn book of yours, not too bad,” Ron said with another laugh. “Been doing like you asked, looking up anything we could find on Horocruxes.” Harry nodded, making a quick note for the house elves to bring them some food. Knowing Ron, he figured that maybe a light snack might help would be hardly refused. Placing the note in his out tray, he held back a smile at Ron's amazement.

“I set it up with the house elves. Interoffice memos and such,” Harry said. “Well, actually I didn't, just thought of the idea, Minvera was the one who set it up.” He thank the elf who appeared. Dobby certainly had been hard at work getting the elves to come back. “Help yourself,” Harry said motioning to the platter now on his desk. As expected, Ron dove into the food, taking some of the small finger sandwiches off the plate even before it had fully settled on the desk.

“That's what I really wanted to talk about, the Horocruxes,” Harry said. “Well, mainly our mission.” He leaned forward on his desk, making sure Ron was looking at him before he started again. “I want to know how your magic is coming along. And if you think that alone will be strong enough.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked. He had swallowed for speaking, not a surprise to Harry, but a welcomed gesture nonetheless.

“I mean, how much mana can you draw, how big of a creature can you summon,” Harry said.

“Well, I've gotten through the walls and strengthening exercises. The book suggested I wait until I was supervised to summon something, so I guess now is as good as any,” Ron said. Harry nodded, wanting to see where this was going. Ron stood from his chair, moving to the center of the room.

Harry watched as Ron began to draw his mana. It was quite different from Hermione did, by collecting it in the form of a ball. It was no where near like Harry's, a simple thought and push and the powers he weld released. No, this seem more naturalistic. Which as he watched, Harry thought it made more sense.

There was a strong green coming through the light now gathering around Ron. By no means was his method instantaneous, but rather, Ron seemed to be able to draw the mana faster than he had seen Hermione do it. The mana radiated out from Ron, a lantern set in his stomach. Harry could feel the hungry of the green mana, a thirst to survive, to evolve, to become. The smile that grew on his face only betrayed the fear as he watched formation of Ron's creation. Fear not for himself; he knew that his creatures, if pushed, could defeat the strength of the forests, but fear that his room might be too small. Harry would worry about that later.

The creature was a beast, or at least had that simple appearance of one. If he had to wager, Harry would have wolf, or at the very least, a large dog. The snow gray color of the wolf shown with a green light, yet even before the light was gone, Harry could make out the image of several other wolves, fading into existence. By the time the light had faded from all of the wolves, there was a total to eight of them. The largest, Harry had to assume was the alpha male.

“Your family?” Harry got out as the wolves began to move around the room. He watched the alpha wolf try and stare him down. The other wolves were scouting out the room.

“Yeah,” Ron wheezed. Harry could see Ron hold onto the edge of the chair. He certainly had used a lot of mana to that.

“You okay?” Harry did not move his gaze from the alpha wolf, though his mana was already beginning to pool. He did not like the gaze of the wolf at the moment, and his mountains were beginning to boil with fury, his plains rallying the troops. There was a challenge in the wolf's eyes, and one Harry did not feel like backing down from.

At least it wasn't any snakes. More than that, he began to relax and let his magic dissipate into a healing wave toward Ron as the wolves became to move around him. The alpha wolf nodded, the predatory gaze locking onto him still. “Well done Ron. Keep working on the summoning, and you might be able to stand summoning them again if you need to.”

“I just need a few moments,” Ron said. Harry could tell that immediately Ron was getting better. Such was the nature of the forest, quick to expend energy, quite to recreate it. Yet the energy used for large creatures often took everything with it, leaving little to assist when needed.

“Would you care for a duel later?” Harry asked. He was interested in what the forests could do. Having never used them himself, he felt the need to see what they could do when someone actually understood the strengths of them.

“After the raid,” Ron said, finally regaining all of his breath. “What do I do with them now?” he was looking at the wolves, surprised that he had managed to summon them. Harry wasn't though.

“They are comprised of energy, like all other things,” Harry said. “They will dissipate in time, or you can dismiss them yourself, however, understand it will be quite some time before you may call upon them again.” Ron nodded, thinking for a moment before he closed his eyes. Harry watched the green light that had originally surrounded the wolves return, before fading into the ether with the wolves. “Feel better?”

“A bit,” Ron said, grabbing another sandwich off the plate. After a few bites, he turned his attention back to Harry. “You going to tell me what is going on between you and Hermione?”

“Was getting around to it,” Harry said. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to relax. Another problem of his that he found time did not solve. Probably only made it worse. “I guess the best way to put it would be to say its simply complicated.” Harry gave Ron a smile before cracking up at the face Ron had made.

“What's THAT supposed to mean?!” Ron got out after a few moments.

“It means that while things are simple between us, there are still some rough patches we're working out,” Harry said. They had started to talk about their last fight, but had never gotten around to finishing the conversation. He had been pulled away, needed by the army for a rundown on the attacks again. That had nearly started another fight between them. Harry got lucky though; he managed to convince Hermione to talk to him about it later today, before dinner in fact.

“I guess you can just say that we're getting along well and still working out the boundaries of this relationship,” Harry said. He shrugged his shoulders, knowing he had not given a complete answer, but he really did not have one. “How's Ginny?” He had not spoken to the youngest Weasley in a long time, even though he knew she had forgiven him. He forgave her, but he did not forgive himself yet.

“She's doing better, been trying to help Snape where she can,” Ron said. “Though, I don't think he's too happy about.”

“Course he isn't, but I told him to shut up about complaining or I'd boot his ass,” Harry said. “He never learned to play well with others so I'm teaching him.” Ron started laughing at this, giving Harry a moment to write another note. Neither Hermione nor Ron had really spoken since she had returned. With a quick note, he sent it off to Hermione. Now would be a good Trio time.

“Yeah,” Ron said, wiping away a few tears. “But seriously, she's doing better. Keeps saying how Hermione shouldn't forgive her, which I agree with her on that.”

“Who, Ginny or Hermione?” Harry couldn't help asking.

“Ginny,” Ron said. “Hermione was far too lenient on her for what Ginny did.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, knowing that forgiveness was something worth searching for in the end.

“It's her choice,” Harry said. He caught Hermione's smile as she entered the room. “Glad you could join us.” He stood from his chair as Ron nearly fell out of his. She let out a laugh as Ron struggled stand up. Hermione gave him a strong squeeze, their bond conveying her lack of anger with him. As he let out the breath he was holding, Hermione giggled into him chest.

“We still need to talk,” Hermione said, moving over to his chair. Harry gave her a smile, shaking his head. She did this every time she came over to his office. She always took his chair.

“So what did you call me here for?” Hermione asked, leaning back in his chair. He could feel her comfort and his smile grew slightly as she relaxed.

“I figured now would be good Trio time,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. “That and there is a few things we need to work on.” He reached across his desk, pulling out a file. Flipping through it, he found the sheet he wanted. “We need to expand the wards.”

“I thought you were almost done with that,” Ron said. Harry shook his head. While most of the wards had been laid by Neville, the twins, and Moody, the expansions still needed to be done. The four of them had gotten the expansions as far as they could, but it earned them a stay in the Hospital wing for a couple of days.

“I want one more push, to completely retake Hogsmeade and some more of the forest,” Harry said. He waved his hand as a map appeared over his desk, thankful that his magic had grown. He known that it would be back to this in time, but it still felt as a relief that he could do the basics. As he grew older, he hoped that he would find that his magic would return to what it was at his prime, when he was solely Death. Now though, he was content with his advanced theatrics.

Hogswarts in a pale green appeared before them. “How do you do that?” Harry looked at Ron for a moment. “I mean, wandless magic like that.”

“To be honest, if I really had to, I'd use my wand, but stuff like this, simple charms are too easy for me,” Harry said. “I also rely on my mana more than this. I probably should find a balance, but I find that mana is so much easier to use.”

“I know what you mean,” Hermione said. Harry looked at her, not shocked but intrigued. “My healing abilities are ten times better then they were this time last year. Most of my protection spells are easily done, and I'm almost at the point where I can cast all of the defensive DADA spells without a sound, and some even without a wand.” Ron nodded, looking puzzled.

“I figure you'll be able to handle most magic animals without a second thought, maybe even talk to them too,” Harry said to him. Hopefully snakes as well. Hermione looked over at him, questioning his thought.

“Think so?” Ron asked, sitting up.

“Forests are filled more with creatures then with spells,” Harry said. “Seems only natural that you know how to commune with them.”

“Luna said something along those lines too,” Ron said, shaking his head. Harry looked over at Hermione, giving her a smile that she didn't return. She stared at him, trying to delve meaning into his words. Reaching through their bond, he tried to comfort her anxiety at her questions.

“Back to the matters at hand,” Harry said. He waved his hand again, a blue line showing the existing wards. “We've gotten about within a hundred meters of edge of Hogsmeade, and probably only that much into the forest.” He waved his hand again, this time a red line appearing several inches away from the blue one. The red line stretched further into the forest, covering even a little of the mountains and a river hidden there. Hogsmeade was completely covered now by the line.

“I'm hoping to get about that far. In fact that's our minimum goal,” Harry said. “I'm hoping to get to the top of the mountain, most of that river and some of the lake. Hosmeade is fine, but if they are going to be coming here by train, then I want those children safe far before they reach here.”

“What kind of wards?” Hermione asked. He knew the distance was troubling her, and rightly so.

“That's what I wanted to talk to you two about,” Harry said. “I want your opinions on the type of ward. I don't want apparation, or portkey. The notifying ward is a possibility, but I don't need another protection line for the students. The one we have is pretty strong as it is, and I doubt we really need to extend that one beyond the school boundaries.” There was a moment of silence, as he watched Ron and Hermione think. Each had their own way about, and he could feel the cogs tunning in Hermione's brain over the problem. Finally after a few moments Hermione spoke first.

“Maybe something that would strengthen us if we become under attack.”

“Or at the very least hurt them a little,” Ron said. Harry nodded, liking where the idea was going.

“Much better than mine,” Harry said. “I wanted to place something that made them explode or something, if they had ill-intent against us.” Looking at the map, he did not need to see their shocked faces to know they were there.

“You wanted them to explode?” Hermione managed to get out.

“Well, it'd stop them from coming here to do damage,” Harry said. He knew that probably was the wrong thing to say, but the thought had crossed his mind. “Though, I think the ward might take out too much of us if we do even something simple like direct assistance for us or harm to them.”

“Why not a lighter protection?” Ron asked. “It doesn't even have to stack with the one around the castle. Just something that would give use enough time once they cross the notifying wards to prepare.” Harry nodded, understanding that point.

“Like something that slows them down, maybe change their perception,” Hermione offered.

“It'd be difficult for the affect to be permanent, but maybe for a set time,” Harry said. “Yeah, that could work.” He scratched his chin, leaning against the bookshelf as he looked at the map. “Course, now that we know what we want, or have an idea, I don't think we'll be able to use magic for this.”

“You're think about us using our mana?” Hermione asked. She sounded shocked by the idea. Harry nodded, glad she was catching on.

“I'm thinking that Ron provides a good deal of the base source, you shape it and I'll infuse it with the penalty,” Harry said. “that way, we can cover all bases, and the mana source should be balanced enough that it won't need us to create renew the ward each time.”

“When do you want to do this?” Ron asked.

“I believe the first question is how do we do this?” Hermione asked, glaring at Ron. Harry smiled at Hermione, causing her to blush under his gaze.

“That my dear, is where we need to think a little on,” Harry said. He waved his hand, dissipating the map. “But I want to get back onto the Horocuxes for a moment. We are going to have to be the ones that do most of the work. I want the army here to protect the school, except for key instances like the one at the end of the month.”

“So what do you know?” Ron asked. Harry shrugged his shoulders. He did not know anything about them, and really only found the goblet by mistake.

“What do we know about them, which are left?” Harry asked, listing his questions.

“The locket, something of Rowena's and then something either of Gryffindor or Nagini,” Harry said. He turned his back to them, grabbing a book as he spoke. He had repressed most of the shudder at the thought of the snake, but he felt Hermione's gaze on his back. She had felt it through the bond, and now he definitely would have to talk to her about it. “Do we have any leads on the locket?”

“We think Mundungus took it from Grimmauld,” Ron said. “But nothing definitive.” Harry nodded, knowing that they would have to find the bastard who inadvertently caused the death of their Headmaster. “We have a few leads on what the Ravenclaw Horocrux could be. But again, nothing is for certain.”

“What I want to know is how you destroyed Hufflepuff's,” Hermione said. Harry never explained to them how he did it, or what he suspected the gem to be, but figured that they deserved to know, at least now that they understood things a little better.

“I melted it,” Harry said. He pooled his mana, drawing upon his plains and a single mountain. He felt the flames reach his hands. “Just took it in my hands and fought the demon inside to destroy it. Then it melted.” Waving his hands, the mana flared and fell apart. He felt the jolt through his body, but he did not let them see it. They would not learn faster if he told them, as he learned quickly the same lesson. It him saddened to think that would need to learn not to use mana so fruitlessly, but they did. They understood the use, not the why it was used yet. They would in time.

“What demon?” Hermione asked, almost immediately before the words were out of his mouth. He snapped out of his thoughts, answering her question.

“A swamp mana-based creature designed to sap the strength of those that attack it,” Harry said. “Took me a bit of mana, and nearly kicked my...” Harry paused at this point, withering slightly under Hermione's glare and felt her annoyance. “butt.” She smiled slightly at this. “I had to crawl my way out of the building, but I figure I was alive, so it's okay.” The pause in the conversation

“You think Riddle can draw mana like we can?” Hermione asked. Harry looked away, out the window. This was a question he avoided asking. He did not want to think that the man could. If so, then his powers would have had to grown exponentially. When did the man have time to search for the strength or the knowledge though?

“I wish I knew,” Harry said. He felt through the spectrum, trying to find if Riddle held the strength to use mana. The path was clouded, he could not tell, which worried him.

“Don't worry about it now, mate,” Ron said. “We've got time to worry about that later.”

“Right now, we need to work on find the other horocruxes and destroying those as well,” Hermione said. Harry nodded, drawing himself out of his thoughts.

“We'll need to go case by case, and take it from there I think,” Harry said. “Keep concentrating on your studies, specifically manifesting protective walls.”

“Why do that if we can go on the offensive?” Ron asked.

“By being prepared defensively we can assess situations and find the appropriate course of actions,” Hermione said.

“That and neither of you can do direct damage,” Harry said with a small. “I need you to to provide the cover for me and Moony while we work on whatever is in there.”

“What is in there?” Hermione asked. He pushed back the fear that had managed to surface through their bond. She did not need to know what it was.

“Hopefully nothing too bad, but if it is, you and Ron should be able to hold it off,” Harry said. “If you practice your walls.” He looked at Ron for a moment. “I'll be by some time tomorrow to check them, Ron, so if you want to get in some more practice I suggest you start now.” Ron nodded, standing from his chair. Harry held back a chuckle as he stole that last few sandwiches off the plate.

Harry turned toward Hermione, knowing that her walls would be strong enough, and she had a plethora of other spells to draw upon if she needed to. She gave him an all-knowing smile. She was about to dissect him. Wonderful.

“Oh Ron,” Harry said, turning back to his friend as he left. Ron looked up, with a sandwich in his mouth. “You hurt her, and I'll kill you. See you tomorrow.” He turned back to Hermione, who had started to shake her head. Ron stopped for a moment before leaving, confusion written over his face.

“You still have a lot of explaining to do,” Hermione said. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Don't I always?” Harry said. He sat on his desk in front of her, knowing the he wouldn't get his chair back unless she moved first. “Where do you want to start?”

“How about this 'hurt her' stuff?” Hermione said. She leaned back in the chair, and Harry had to smile. She was trying to look stern, trying because she had a hard time keeping a smile off her face.

“Letting him know that if he hurts any woman, I'll kill him,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. “After what happened to Grace, I took a very dim light on those that hurt women. I'm not going to see it happen again.” He felt the flare of anger pass through him as Hermione stood from his chair. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight against her.

“You're a good man,” she whispered into his ear. “And for the record,” she pulled back from his neck before kissing his cheek, “I think he'll treat Luna alright.”

“He better,” he said. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her lightly before pulling back. He wanted to continue, and with her biting his lower lip, it made it all the harder to pull away. “And your other question?” he asked once he received his lips back.

“Snakes?” Hermione asked. He hopped off the desk, stealing his seat back from her. She glared at him until he pulled her into his lap.

“That's another long story,” Harry said, feeling a little embarrassed.

“You can tell me,” Hermione said. Stealing another kiss, Harry began.

“It started back when I began my training in the monastery...”

I0I

Harry walked at a calm pace. He concentrated on his breathing, on his heart rate, on anything but his destination. The walk was constant, steady, his meaning. He would over come his anger. He would not become it.

“Well done Brother James.” Harry turned to see his mentor standing off to the side of the well beaten path. He did not lie to them, upon giving his name, only he asked to be called by his middle name, the one he had used to hide under for so many years.

“Thank you Brother Patrick,” Harry said, bowing slightly in the man's direction. They exchanged pleasantries as they walked.

“Are you ready for your lesson today, James?” Harry stopped at the voice, before turning toward the source.

Father Charles stood just under the archway. His starch white hair nearly reflected the sunlight. It was a huge contrast to the black shirt and pants he wore, so different from the brown cloaks and robes the monks wore. Although the man was a priest, there was something about him that did not sit well with Harry.

It may have been that his smile just seemed too big, and a little off center on his face. It may have been that Father Charles never seemed to look at someone when he spoke, more like through them. Or it may be that there was something in his eyes, something not quite right about the little black fleck in them. Whatever it was, Harry did not like it.

“As readily as I'll ever be, sir,” Harry said, bowing toward the man slightly. He may not particularly like the man, for no reason beyond his gut feeling, but he had to respect him for the work Father Charles did in the monastery.

“Very good, come with me then,” Father Charles said. He gave a look to Brother Patrick, and had Harry not held his suspicions of the father, he would have missed the disdain in the look.

Harry walked again at the calm pace. He was taught here not to rush anything, to grow patient with life. After finding his mountains, the patience was helping him develop his plains.

It was strange, this new form of magic. While using his wand, and sometimes not, he found the magic taught at Hogwarts to be less restrictive, but sometimes unpredictable in the results. This magic, to draw upon mana seemed to be in tune with the soul more so, allowing him to do many of the same things he could with his wand. More than that, the mana was a reliable, stable use of magic, but the consequences for failure was something he still felt to this day.

To draw the mana without use was ancient taboo. Yet it was taught to ensure that the student learns why such action was taboo.

He passed that lesson, and still was paying for it. The ripples of shock waves ran through his arms still and the pain had not left his back and legs. Yet his pain was not over with.

His lessons had moved beyond just mana and back toward the use of pure magic. To become magic as they called it. Father Charles understood the necessary actions to be magic, to become what they called a totem.

The totem represented a secular school of thought for magic, whether pure and chaste like a unicorn or twisted and cunning like the snake. The totem combined with a person to become that school of thought. Or at least that was what the monks here thought. It intrigued him enough that Harry pressed them about it. Now the monks were pressing him to become a school of thought. Which one, he did not know yet, but he saw fire in his dreams at night, but he was not burnt. Whatever that meant.

“Today we see how well you can cope with a different type of stress,” Father Charles said. Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak to the man.

Father Charles lead Harry outside to what was deemed as the training area for mana practice. Harry was familiar with the area, using it daily to practice expanding his use of the mountains, and what little plains he had at his call at the moment. There was different feel to the air though, something was off.

“I believe I had found out your totem,” Father Charles said. He moved toward a large pit that was practicing air techniques and levitation.

Harry perked up at this, moving his gaze off the supposedly bottomless pit before him to the unscrupulous monk before him. “Really?” He was surprised, after being told countlessly that he may not even be a totem.

“Yes, though, the others don't believe me, I know I am right.” Harry paused at this. “The others” where the monks here, and he trusted them implicitly. So if they did not agree to this, then there was no way he was going through with it.

“Maybe we should wait then,” Harry offered, his glare not leaving Charles. The stared down at each other for several moments. Harry unconsciously shifted his gaze as he saw several other monks rushing out at them from the inner sections. That was all Charles needed to take the upper hand.

Father Charles's trademark black wind blew at him, stealing the breath from his lungs as it pushed him back. Into the pit behind him.

No one knew the distance to the bottom, but that did not bother Harry. The fall was not important to him, nor the sudden stop at the end. What bothered him was the voice he swore came from there. Angry voices, disturbed voices.

The fall was not as long as he thought, and the crash at the bottom did not hurt as badly as he thought it would have either. It was too dark at the bottom for him to see anything, the light from the top only a speck in the sky. The ground behind was soft, and...moving...?

At once the shock left him and the pain surrounded him as the sound of hissing and voices smashed through it. Covering his ears, he felt the ground beginning to swallow him whole.

Who issss thissss? More food for precsssioussss? Yessss. Masssster will be sssso proud of ussss.

Harry let out scream he was holding in out as fangs sunk into his torso. His scream awoke the rest of the ground as he felt them moving faster. The more he struggled, the faster they moved, and harder they snapped at him.

The speck in the sky got smaller.

Foolissssh boy. Think you can win? You losssst already.

His screams grew in numbers as he felt the fangs puncture his side again. And again. And again. That was not the worst part. It was the moving, the slithering ground around him. The scales scraped against his skin, giving him something like a rug burn as they moved past. When he tried to grasp at something, he felt the dry rough scales move in his hands.

Why do you sssstruggle? There issss no one to ssssave you. Give up, child.

Harry began to thrash about, trying to removing the feeling of scales up against his skin. His heart felt like it was going to escape, without him. His head grew heavy, but he knew to keep fighting.

He couldn't stop the voices, he couldn't stop the burns against his skin, he couldn't stop the....

I0I

“I don't remember how they got me from down there, or what happened next,” Harry said, not looking into her eyes. He still felt foolish for his reactions, and knew that it was normal to feel like that. It didn't make the embarrassment any easier to deal with.

“So when you faced the baslisk as Fawkes?” Hermione started.

“I don't think I've ever been so scared before,” Harry said, shivering at the thought of the giant snake. Hermione's arms tightened around him and a wave of comfort over flowed though him. “But I knew I had to go there, and I knew I had to save myself.”

“You saved us all, both times,” Hermione said. She kissed him lightly on the lips before leaning back to look at him. “And you're still the bravest man I know.”

“No I'm not,” Harry said.

“Yes you are,” Hermione said, kissing his nose before glaring at him lightly. “I'm trying to defend you to yourself, so no more talking.”

“Yes ma'am,” Harry said. She let out a small giggle, one that Harry could nothelp but smile at. Those still surprised him from time to time.

“Now, you're brave because you face your fears.” She paused her, letting it sink in. Her touch was comforting, but through the bond, he felt safe, secure as they held each other. “You were afraid of the Dementors, and you fought against them. You were afraid for Sirius, but you fought.” She kissed him, a deeper kiss than he had ever felt from her before. She was pushing through their bond all the emotion she felt for him, and he nearly collapsed from the onslaught of love and emotion in general. “And you fought for me, even when you thought you could loss me.”

“I almost did,” Harry commented. He thought back to the battle that had happened only a few short weeks ago. He felt lucky to find her again. Hermione smirked, catching the feeling through the bond.

“For the better or worse,” Hermione said, kissing him again. Harry pulled back staring at her for a moment. She began to blush under his gaze, reading his thoughts, and him reading hers. She hadn't meant to say that, but she did.

“For the better or worse,” Harry whispered back. He reached through the bond, flaring it wildly as she grasped her mark. “While that may not be a proposal, it was a promise.” She nodded, barely sitting up right as he held onto her. She had a euphoric look upon her face, and he blushed as he felt her feelings rush back across the bond. He hadn't meant to make her speechless.

“A promise is a bond,” Hermione said, kissing him deeply. “We've already got one promise, Harry. And we'll expand upon it when we need to.” He nodded, resting his head against her forehead. “We need to talk about this relationship of ours.” Hermione leaned back, far enough to look at him from a distance, but still in his grasp.

“I want to know what you've figured out first, before I start yelling at you,” Hermione said. Harry looked at her, surprised. “Weren't expecting that were you?” She nipped his bottom lip for a moment, nearly shutting down all of this thoughts. “Now, talk.” He nodded, gathering the breath she stole.

“I was wrong,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I...I push people away when I should hold them close. I don't want to need you as badly as I do, but I can't help it. And it hurts to know sometimes that I never gave you a choice is this matter.” He looked at her for a moment before ducking his head down. “You don't fully understand the bond.”

“I think I do,” Hermione said. He closed his eyes at her gently caresses, but kept his mind upon his words.

“No you don't,” Harry said, sending the caress back. “When I said it was a strong bond that would take over from the one to Lestrange, I was not lying. Nor was I lying when I said that our destinies were one. What I left out was that this, all of this,” he placed his hand over her mark, “is all up to you. You'll carry this mark, but unless you want it to, it won't go any further. As for mine, it just means I'm connected to you.

“Yesterday, when I said I had no family, it was my way of reacting to this, because for the longest time I didn't,” Harry said. “And it scares me to have to learn to let people in. My words were meant to give you an out.” He closed his eyes at this, not wanting to see her anger at him, or worse, her disappointment. He felt her get up, out of his lap.

“You're an idiot,” she said. Her voice was neutral, and she had shut the bond to a minimum. “You think that I'll just drop you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Harry said. He felt a sharp slap to his arm, but said nothing more.

“Then cross it out,” Hermione said. “And get this through your thick skull. My choices are my own, and my actions are my own. If I choose to be with you, then you damn better accept that.” Harry nodded, opening his eyes for the first time.

She was angry, that much was obvious. It was in the way her eyes flared at him and the way her hips were pointed at him, as if to fire an arrow from a bow at him.

“Now, are we going to have to fight again over this?” Hermione asked. Harry didn't want to say it, but he had to.

“Probably, but you'll always win that argument,” Harry said. Hermione's anger faded slightly and she opened the bond up once again. He shuddered thankful, he knew she didn't like it when the bond was shut down, but it took damn near everything he had to stand sometimes when she did that.

“You okay?” Hermione asked. She rushed back to his side, holding a hand to his forehead. He nodded.

“As long as the bond is open, I'll be fine, but it becomes difficult for me, with the bond as new as it is, to stay strong without it,” Harry admitted. “As time goes by, you'll be able to hide small things, but emotions will stay. But the bond will keep me going.”

“You need the bond to live?” Hermione asked. Fear filled her eyes as the tears reached her cheeks. Harry shook his head.

“No, I need you to live,” Harry said. His hand wrapped around her neck, pulling her close to him. “The bond is just my way of showing it.” There was silence for a while, though Harry felt Hermione thinking.

“Silly boy,” Hermione said. He felt the chair fall back as Hermione bear hugged him. She began to nuzzle into his neck, holding onto him for dear life. “We'll have to work on this some more you know.” She nipped his neck, her smile resting against it.

“You're going to be the death of me,” Harry said, kissing her again.

“Not unless I go first,” Hermione said. He pulled back at this, staring deeply into her. The bond was open, and he reached through it. His mental hand grasped hers and held on tight. He was not letting go, not for a long time. Words crossed his mind, and he felt them reach his lips as they touched hers.

“For the better or worse.”

I0I

October 30^th, the day before their attack. Hermione had watched Harry prepare furiously for this, and knew he worked himself to exhaustion only the night before. Now he stood before them, his grin sober as he looked out across the Great Hall.

They had several talks after the one in his office about their relationships. What it all came down to was her, and her choices. Her anger nearly eclipsed the passion she felt for him at this notion. While he was the strongest man she thought she had ever known, his gentle way with her was breathtaking. He gave her control, not of him, but of their relationship. He placed the ball in her court, as the phrase goes, and it was hers to shoot. And she had no idea what to do with him.

Yet the man before her was different than the one that let her control their relationship. Harry dressed in his duster, as he called it, and wore his gunblade, again his word, - she would rather name it hideous. He stood, addressing the army that apparently he commanded now, a shock to him too.

The power that surrounded him was extraordinary though. He stood, giving them a speak that she knew she would forget. The speech did not matter; his tone of voice mattered.

He spoke distinctly, refined, and with a well oiled tongue. The words rolled off his lips, into each and every person. More than that though, he spoke in no more than a whisper, yet the all heard.

“I don't know how tell you this any better than what I've already said. All I want is for you to return the favor of what has been brought here. Only give mercy to those that ask, and quarter to our prisoners. We are not them, and I will never let us become them.” Harry stepped away at this, motioning for Hermione to follow him.

The General was now speaking, and she could care less what the bastard had to say. No matter what anyone said, she'd never trust that man again. Not after what he tried to do to Harry.

“You were great,” she said, after catching up with Harry. He gave he a sad smile, he thoughts off somewhere. She pulled him into a hug, reaching through the bond. “She'll always be with you.” Her hand reached and touched his mark. He had already given his life for hers; she was not going to make it in vain. “What are you going to do tomorrow?”

“Give you three enough time to investigate,” Harry said. “I think I can hold back the dark long enough for you to find if we need to go deeper.” He shrugged his shoulders, though Hermione did not move her hand from his mark. In the back of her mind, she already was going over what Harry had given her on phoenixes. She need to know more, and he just did not know enough.

“How long to expect us to be in there?” Hermione asked. They began to walk back to the castle. Although Hermione knew most of what Harry was already telling her, she needed to confirm what spells she wanted to prepare. Beyond just her wand and mana, Harry had restricted what they could take with, only saying that he did not want to leave anything that could be traced back.

“No more than a few hours, though I gave Ron a book on conjuring on food and water just in case,” Harry said. “only reason I told him that was so he'd stop pestering me about not bring food. Told him if he wanted something, make it.” Hermione giggled at this, knowing well that despite the lack of food, Ron's legendary appetite had only grown as he started studying the use of mana. Something about forests using more energy or something.

“We ready for it?” Hermione asked. She didn't realize they had made it to her office, nor did she want to leave Harry's company.

“Honestly, I don't know,” harry said. “We'll see how it goes tomorrow.” Hermione nodded, holding back her fear. She knew she had to be strong, because if he could be strong, then so could she. Her gaze lowered to the floor as she tried to steady her breathing. She arms being wrapped around her. Hermione knew she didn't have to be strong any more; she collapsed into Harry's chest, leaning against him.

“You want me to stay the night?” Harry's words were soft, comforting. She nodded, breathing in his scent: a mix of a cool mint and mountain air. She lifted her gaze to his eyes. Their bond flared as she stared deeper into his soul. So tortured, yet so peaceful.

Kissing him, she felt his flames meeting her cool waters. She pulled him closer, knowing that she could not get close enough. She felt a tug upon her stomach, but it only made her hold him tighter. She didn't know where she was going, but with Harry's arms wrapped securely around her, she knew he'd protect her.

-->

Chapter Fourteen: Or Worse

Hermione checked her backpack again. It was early in the morning, too early if anyone asked her to be up, and they were preparing to start their tri-assault. Harry had spent the night with her, just holding her as she fitfully sleep. It was hard to sleep, the anxiety too much for her to get a good night's rest. Harry made no comment of it, rather content in staring off out the window in her room while holding her. She wanted to ask him about his thoughts, but their bond told her that they were resting on the same thing hers were.

“All set?” She looked up, putting away a length a room as Ron entered the room. He was carrying a similar bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but I really have no idea what we're up against,” Ron said. Hermione gave him a look before lifting her own bag onto her back. She packed light, trusting Harry to get them through this. It was about all she could do. “Let's go meet him at his office.”

They walked in silence. Hermione was going over a series of spells she had picked specifically for this mission. She could only guess that Ron was doing that same, but with Ron you never knew.

“Its not done yet,” Snape's voice yelled.

“Like that's ever stopped me before,” Harry's voice echoed back. Hermione and Ron shared a look before running the rest of the way to the classroom.

The door was open, or just enough that Hermione could see the two men in the room. They were glaring daggers at each other, trying to stare the other down. There was a vial of something on Harry's desk, something that Hermione could not recognize, but knew it was smoking.

“I thought you'd be happy to see me die,” Harry commented back. Hermione quickly shut their bond to a minimum and shuddered. She did not want that thought in her head. Snape laughed at this, though the laugh was hollow and empty.

“If only Potter, but this will not kill, only make you wish for death,” Snape snapped. “I'm only tell you this because you need to know the consequences.” Harry stopped at this. He was pacing, and turned to look at the Potions Master. Hermione could not hear what Harry said, but she could tell it had a strong effect on Snape.

She could not see Harry's face, his back was to her, but the look of respect and concern on Snape's face was hard to miss. She did not even know he could look like that.

“It's my choice,” Harry said, louder then what he had said before. Hermione opened the bond a little. She knew she'd never be able to find out what he was now hiding from her without him knowing. Giving Ron a look that snapped him out of his shock, she knocked on the door, letting their presence be known.

“Did we interrupt anything?” Hermione asked, stepping inside of the room.

“No, Miss Granger, I was just leaving,” Snape said. He gave Harry one more look before nodding and leaving them with his classic exit: robes billowing behind him.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked before Hermione could. She stared at him, testing the bond. He was not hiding anything on the surface, but she did not want to test his trust by probing any deeper.

“A last resort,” Harry said, taking the vial and slipping it into his jacket.

“You trust him?” Ron asked. Harry looked at Ron for a moment, then moved his gaze over to Hermione.

“He doesn't have a choice.” They all turned to see Lupin entering, carrying his own pack. “Snape is one of the best potions masters alive. If what he gave to Harry was an indication of his skill, Harry has to trust him.” Harry nodded at the man's words, and a sense of relief fluttered across the bond. Hermione held her smile back, happy to know that at least one bridge was mended between Lupin and Harry.

“Damn straight,” Harry said. He threw on his jacket, covering the tattoo on his back. Hermione smiled lightly, knowing she had explored it closely. He gave her a look as he strapped the his gunblade over his back. “We've got about ten minutes, any last questions.”

“What hell are we getting into?” Ron asked.

“No clue,” Hermione muttered. She turned toward Harry, forcing a question through the bond. What was that all about? Harry shrugged his shoulders.

Its the lottery, I either win or lose. Harry sent back. She wanted to ask more, but knew he wouldn't give it away.“We're getting into a source of evil that is unlike any you have ever seen before. Or even glimpsed at.”

“So is it a horocrux?” Lupin asked. Harry led them out of the room and to the courtyard. Harry had set up the three portkeys in different areas, ensure that everyone got to where they needed to go. The man wasn't even phased by the amount of magic he spent just to make them, kept right on working. Sometimes Hermione wondered if he ever did sleep. Or even need it.

“No idea, that's why we're heading there, to find out,” Harry said. He checked his watch, before pulling out a scarf. “Grab a side and hold on tight. This will last a little longer than your used to. If you feel a bump, do not let go.”

“Why would there be a bump?” Ron asked.

“Got to get through the ward,” Harry said. Hermione took the scarf without question. She had already had this discussion with him when he created it. She did not know where he got the power to push through wards like he did, but it had to come from somewhere.

“In three, two, one,” Harry counted down. Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist before “one” hoping that it would give her some balance.

The portkey was like any other she had felt, until the bump. Her grip tightened, both around Harry's waist and the scarf. He wasn't kidding when he told them not to let go. They stalled in mid-air, pushing against the ward before another burst of energy pushed them through it.

They stumbled to the ground, well, everyone but Harry did. He landed like he jumped through wards all the time.

“Sorry bout that,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I haven't ridden with anyone in a while, forgot to warn you about the landing.” He held his hand out for her, letting her grab onto as he pulled her up.

“If there's a moment when we surrounded or are about to, I want you to run,” he whispered. He stopped her from speaking, his finger on her lips. “You are too important to me to get trapped in there. Too important to me.” He kissed her hard at this, the bond opening completely between them. She felt her mind melting into his as she melted against him. “And I can always find you. We haven't gotten to where you can find me.” He kissed her again, this time short. As he pulled back, she felt the bond shuffle slightly, but not close. More like his magic reaching out to catch her, protect her.

He glanced down at his watch, checking the time. “They should be starting their assault in a matter of moments.” Hermione took the time to look around.

They were in the middle of a desert that stretched out for what had to be miles. She covered her eyes as she stared into the sun. There was nothing, why where they here? No, that was stupid. They were here because nothing else could survive what had to be miles out to the middle of nowhere without knowledge of what already existed.

“Ready Hermione?” Harry asked. She turned back. Ron and Lupin were at the entrance of the cave, or rather a door to the cave. Harry held out his hand, asking her to take it silently. She gave him a nervous smile before doing so. The comfort of his arms surrounded her as she held his hand.

“Open the door Moony, Ron, prepare a shield,” Harry said. Hermione moved to Harry's side, not letting him push her behind him.

Her wand in hand, Hermione watched as Lupin spelled the door open, and Ron conjured moss from inside the cave. A rush of spellfire escaped the cave and collided with the wall of moss Ron just made. In a matter of moments the spellfire stopped, and the wall collapsed.

“It safe?” Ron asked. Harry let go of Hermione's hand, moving in front of both.

“Only one way to find out,” Harry said. He walked in without a moment of hesitancy. He stood there for a moment, and as much as Hermione wanted to glare at him, his confidence seemed to be helping her as well. It was helping them all.

Hermione felt a wash of magic come over her as she entered behind Ron. Though Harry had not moved from the outside, his movement inside was obvious. He seemed frantic, almost worried, but the calculating look in his eyes told her otherwise. His pacing stopped as Remus entered behind Hermione.

“Bout time,” Harry said. “I was wondering how long the delay was.”

“What delay?” Lupin spoke first. Harry removed his watch from his wrist and tossed it to Hermione. Ron slipped in almost immediately after he started talking.

“Looks about the same, just a few minutes,” Hermione said. The clocks weren't off that much, if anything Harry's was a little slow..... “Twelve hours?”

“Close to it at least,” Harry said. “We didn't spot it because a mage had put it up. Or at least, we could not have until we came in. A dark blue is plastered along the entrance. A time variation, if I had to guess. But because of that, I don't want to know what horrors await us down here.”

“You think its going to be that bad?” Ron asked.

“No, I think this is just the beginning,” Harry said. He removed his wand from his belt, lighting up the dark passage before them. “Moony, you take the back, scan for any changes in the terrain as we go along. Try and make a map so we can get the hell out of here safely. I'll take lead, Hermione follow me, but be prepared to be pushed out of the way. You're going to be looking specifically for any irregularities in regards to the flow of magic in this place. Ron, help Moony where you can or try to get a fix on the number of creatures we got in here.”

“What are you going to do Harry?” He gave them a smile as he placed his wand back into his jacket. The ball of light remained, bouncing to and fro along the passage.

“I'm going to take the first stab in the dark.”

So began their journey. They walked for several miles, finding nothing more than darkness in front of them. No more spells or dangers around them. No one really talked, which made the darkness all the more forbidding. Hermione felt the weight of pressure from all this growing. Still, she kept check for changes in the magic around them, like Harry asked. Nothing. He was guiding them wordlessly, motioning them to stop at times between forks in the path and then walking down them without a second glance at the other path. The ball of light that he cast remained floating, though around Hermione and Ron. Harry had seemingly lost all need for light, despite the remnants of his tattoo lighting on his neck.

When they stopped, Hermione could not help but collapse against Harry. He gave her a smile, which reenergized her more than she really wanted to admit. “How much further?”

“I hope not much longer,” Harry said. “but I suggest we stop and maybe get a bite to eat.”

“See, I told you we needed something to eat,” Ron said, happily taking things out of his bag. Though none of it was food Hermione noted. He finally took out a book, before reading a passage rather quickly. She watched as he gathered his mana before releasing it.

Several pieces of fruit appeared before them, along with some jugs of water. Ron just grinned as she and Lupin stared at him. “And did I not give you the means to do it yourself?” Harry asked. He reached forward, grabbing two apples before settling back against the wall. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her against his side.

She looked back at him as he held out an apple for her. “Feeling protective?” He smiled as their bond fluttered open.

“I'd be lying if I said no,” Harry said. She felt a pit of fear in him, and she wrapped herself around it, holding her mind to it to calm them both down.

“Then this time let me protect your body,” Hermione said as she wrapped her arms around his stomach. “And you protect my mind.” He made his way through the bond, taking a firmer hold of her than it seemed with only his arm around her.

She knew that Lupin and Ron were looking at them, but at the moment, she did not care. She sat up and kissed him gently on the lips before settling back at his side.

“You too are certainly a lot closer than the last time I saw you,” Lupin said. Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

“We are doing what is right,” Hermione said.

“Still, you don't think its kinda out of the blue for you two to be together?” Lupin asked.

“Are you exercising caution or displeasure?” Hermione said. She fixed a glare on the older man. “Because neither are not asked for or warranted. We can maintain our relationship. Stop worrying about ours and focus on your own.” Lupin sat back, not a little surprised at her reaction. That did not matter to her, what matter is that people understood that this was what she wanted.

“Let them do what they want Lupin,” Ron said. “Trying to get Hermione to change her mind about something is damn near impossible.” Hermione shot him a look before taking a bite out of the apple.

They sat in silence for several moments. Hermione felt the flickers of panic and fear from her plains. Ron looked nervous as well, and Harry felt it. She could not tell from his face or body language, but it was there, over the bond.

They sat there for several minutes, maybe at least half an hour. Hermione didn't know how long, but it certainly felt like it had been that long. Harry was the first to stand, taking her up with him. Ron and Lupin followed them quickly.

“I think its best if we keep moving,” Harry said. He looked back at the path they just came from before continuing forward.

“Something wrong?” Lupin asked as they moved back into formation.

“The air is not moving, meaning that the longer we stay, the larger chance we have to suffocate,” Harry said. “Don't ask me how I know, just trust me.”

Hermione held onto his hand as they walked. While it looked slightly uncomfortable for Harry, he did not complain the hours they walked. He stopped them from time to time, pausing to look down a path before taking the other path. They talked very little, with Harry only doing so to give them a direction. While Ron did not look like he had a problem with it, from time to time, Lupin looked disgruntled over the orders. Or he just looked disgruntled. Harry noticed as well, their bond reducing her worry for a little while.

She couldn't feel a change in the magic, a flat line. It scared her if she wanted to admit it. Usually, there was a little change from here to there, but nothing. She knew there was magic in the cave, but whatever it was, it was gone, hidden, or something.

The path carried them down to a cavern with a stone bridge that carried to an altar on the other side. While Hermione logically knew there was a bottom to the cave, beneath the bridge, she could not see it.

“This doesn't look good,” Harry said, stopping them before going across.

“What's wrong, we haven't had any problems so far,” Ron said. Lupin just grunted. The little light they had made Lupin look dark, angrier than she had ever seen him. Even while he was a werewolf.

“”You feel it don't you, Moony?” Harry said.

“The wolf's fighting back,” Lupin grunted. Hermione held back a gasp, finally understanding what was going on.

The dark magic was exuding from the altar, causing the fear in them all, and a little anger as well. While the trio could fight it off reasonably well, Lupin had begun to fight off the wolf inside of him. Harry held the least anger of them all, or at least was able to fight it the best. He fought off her anger as well, and Ron seemed to have gained a hold on his anger through the years.

“I need you to watch my back at this point,” Harry said. “Something isn't right. It's got to be a Horocrux, but I'm not positive.” Hermione looked at him, before nodding for the rest of them. She really wanted to see how he took care of the previous Horocrux.

He walked slowly across the bridge, torches lighting up as he did. Hermione held her breathe, feeling confidence fighting his nervousness. She began to touch her plains, hoping that she didn't need them, but was ready to use them if she needed to. Ron's nod gave her the impression that he was ready as well. All three of their wands were drawn, however focused on Harry.

He stopped before the altar. She was too far away to see before if there was anything on it. Now Harry was blocking her from seeing anything at all. The flames upon the torches began to waver and flicker as Hermione felt Harry draw upon his mana.

She felt him drawing extensively upon his plains, drawing out the cleansing power within them. The white glow around him gave away the white mana use as well. As the mana centered in on Harry, Hermione felt her eyes drawn to movement at the bottom of the cannon. Something was down there, something that sparked the fear.

“Harry?” She let her voice waver as she watched the floor rising up quickly.

“Almost got it...” Harry called back. His hands were moving quickly, but not as quickly as the floor.

Ron sent out the first spell, hitting the rising mass. Hermione could not call it a floor anymore, she saw arms and teeth. She repressed the shiver that ran over her; those things were the source of the fear. Harry did not waver as he finished whatever he was doing.

They were worse than Inferi. More dead, yet more alive. The stench followed them as they rose quickly upwards. Hermione felt her magic flaring slightly as the torches went out; only Harry's light remained, giving them little to work with. Hermione did not want to lose her wand to a Lumos, so she kept it trained on the approaching abyss.

She felt the strain through their bond, but knew she couldn't help him. His mana control was unlike anything she had ever felt, even those few glimpses and touches across their bond. It fought her fear and only made it grow at the same time.

Harry drew the remnants of the light into him, leaving the zombies and them in the darkness. Hermione felt the air around her getting colder, yet she felt find. Her bond tightened, sending her waves of heat and care over it. Her frown stabilized, no longer letting the fear over come her. Harry was there, and this would be over soon.

The bond flared as the creatures rose, covering the bridge. Hermione watched Harry disappear into the black, her only connection being the bond.

She watched the creatures coming toward her. Heads dented in, the skull visible in deep grays against what little light was coming from their wands. She could hear the snarling echoing across the cavern, no distinguishable words coming from their mouths.

Only once before had she felt this kind of fear, only once before. Their third year, when the Dementors came....

“HARRY!” A burst of light streamed across the bridge, connecting to her chest, to her bond. She felt a pull from her waters, the seas and islands giving strength to the red beam that connected.

The light grew bright, tossing some of the zombies to the side as it pierced others. Ron and Lupin had already begun firing at them, trying to stop the onslaught of the abyss. Hermione only could stare into the beam of white light, despite her plains still standing strong. She prepped them, but did not used them. Her islands were near gone though, their energy leaving her quickly as the beam left, going back into the mass of light that had become Harry.

She grasped onto her wand, ready to fire, despite the anxiety now filling her. Half of her mana was gone, and she felt empty without it. She knew it was there, but she kinda felt bare without it to draw upon.

The light spread out before sucking back, destroying the zombies that had managed to cover the ledge Harry was on. Hermione kept firing every spell she knew, hoping that he was alright. Their bond was strong, and she felt his heart somehow beating along side her own.

Sparing a look, she could feel the fear growing closer as she stared at Harry. He was hunched, standing up by leaning against altar. He did not notice the zombies surrounding him, but Hermione did. She could see the air growing cold around him as well. She took off across the bridge, flying as she went. Spells came out of her wand even before she thought of them.

Harry turned, holding the chard remains of what had to be a diadem. Ravenclaw's diadam. That boy was going to tell her what the hell he knew when they got out of here. He smiled at her, he stopped, the smile turning into a look of fear. She froze in her tracks, feeling the cold breath of.....something on her neck. Of hell upon her neck. Hermione turned to see the dark face of death, it pulling back its mask.

She felt a tug on her soul as the darkness surrounded her. And then there was just darkness....

I0I

Harry rushed forward, grabbing hold of Hermione as she fell to the bridge. His gunblade slide from his back as he stopped behind her, protecting her as he swung. He felt his bond swagger as Hermione collapsed. His world froze as he watched the beast take her soul. “Dementor.” His hoarse voice snarled. His gunblade swung at the Dementor, but evasion and cowardice were its tactics.

He pushed his way past the climbing zombies, to Ron and Lupin, who were standing stunned. “Take her,” Harry said, pushing her body out to them. He knew the bond would die soon, but soon outside of this place. She was still alive as long as he felt her holding onto that bond, with what little strength she had left.

“What? Harry, she's-” Ron started, but Harry glared him down. He felt the fire building in his chest, but he could feel her. She was still there.

“She is still alive,” he tapped his chest as he screamed at them. His voice stilled the zombies, with not only the terror, but with the pain. “She's still in here. You keep her safe until you get out. If I'm not out behind you in five minutes, close it.”

“You'll be there Harry?” Lupin asked as he took the limp body from Harry. He nodded, holding out his hand. “The potion?”

“More than that,” Harry said. “Faith.” He swung he blade again, catching a half dozen zombies. Lupin saw something in him, something that maybe the man needed to. When he got out of this hell, the two of them were going to have a long talk.

He stood facing the devils of Voldemort's heart. The demons that stole Hermione's soul, that stole apart of his own. He felt her holding onto that bond, their bond which he gave his all into, his lasting connection to her. He wrapped his heart around his side of the bond, pulling tightly onto it.

Their eyes bore hatred in them, darkness that he had seen in his own soul, only once. But his mountains, his passion drove that darkness out. His Hermione. His plains, his connection to the light that he could not give up.

The dragons roared into the darkness, his voice echoing their rage. Again, the zombies stumbled back, this time, there was confusion. They questioned who he was, what monster could fight their lord?

His goblins built the mountains, built the defense around his bond. They were small in size, but massive in numbers, coming out from all of his pores, from all of the tunnels in and through his mountains. His goblins were ready to prove their greed, holding onto the only piece of gold Harry ever wanted.

But it was his fire, the fire within the mountains that Harry felt burnt him the most. With each second, he could feel another atom of Hermione slip away. With each moment, another flame burnt stronger, burnt with more anger and fury that an thousand suns. They had stolen his only jewel, his only ray of light.

Her plains were strong, holding onto her soul. His flames searched for them into the darkness, looking for something more forbidding that held onto her. The potion that would seep through his pours would work only once, allow him to hold onto the power only once. And only for a moment. But that was on the outside. He could only guess how long he had inside this hell.

A moment was all he need.

Harry became lost in the motions, swinging and firing his gunblade out and upon the mass and crowds of zombies. He could see that demon holding onto her, holding onto his love, his light.

Removing the potion from his belt, he held it in one hand as he swung his gunblade with the other. “Hello boys.” He could not help but grin at them all. They had no idea what they were getting into.

I0I

Hermione felt herself floating around in nothing. In darkness.

She did not even know if her eyes were open, or how she saw. But she did.

She had a thin string attached to her stomach, her belly bottom it seemed. There was nothing around her but cold, fear, loneliness, and desperation. She hugged her body tightly to chest, wanting to fight off some of those feelings.

Her bond to Harry was faint; the worst it had ever been, even when he was gone, and traveling. She could still 'feel' him, in her heart. Now, Hermione questioned if she was truly gone.

No, the tug on her stomach, on the string told her otherwise. She could feel Harry out there, somewhere. He was the other end of the string, at the end of the darkness.

“Harry?” Her voice died, barely reaching her own ears. This place seemed to suck everything out of her. She tried to gather her thoughts through the fog that now seemed to be choking them.

They were in the cave, looking for some sign of a Horocrux..... Harry did seem to know about it, but sense something was there...... He led them down the cave, and destroyed the diadem..... The zombies, or something like zombies attacked them.....She rushed over to Harry, hoping that she could help him....... That damn Dementor appeared behind her..... And she stupidly didn't defend herself.....

She began to mental berate herself for her actions. She had gotten herself killed. Looking at the string, and the tug on it again, she realized that it was about as close to being killed without being dead. And now Harry had to save her. Again.....

Not this time. She was going to get out of this alone. Even if this was Hell, she was going to fight her way out and get to Harry. Another tug on her string. It was white, much like the color of her plains.

She still had those, she hadn't used them, and Harry hadn't stolen them either. Another thing she was going to have to yell at him for; how dare he do that without telling her?

Concentrating on her plains, she felt them still thriving, if a little shook up from...wherever she was. They were fine though. Pushing a little of that mana into her, she felt a warmth beginning to spread outward, the darkness turning into bright light.

Vaguely, someone screamed. She could not help the smile that crossed her face. So....this hurt a Dementor......

This was going to be an all or nothing shot. She had only one chance, and she was about to do something that she could only describe as a “Harry Potter.” Monumental stupid and not thought out at all, yet probably going to succeed.

Gathering her plains, she felt the magic pooling in her chest. The string tugged at her again, this time more violently. She shrugged it off, concentrating on tapping into her mana. She felt the animals and birds she had gathered upon her plains gathering around her center. They watched, and in a moment turned into energy, joining into her. She felt the power grow even more as she held onto it.

Again, a scream echoed in this dead place. Hermione felt the tug on her again. It began to hurt her, and she knew that she only a had one chance at this.

She felt the energy burning inside of her, fighting for a release. The wrath of a thousand stars. The wrath of a god descending upon the unjust and false believers.

“Hermione!” She looked around, seeing nothing, but the voice echoed, unlike her own. She turned toward the direction of string, watching what had to be a light at the end of the tunnel. She knew that voice, Harry, Harry was calling for her.

The ripple of a tug could be seen coming toward her. If Harry's voice came from down that string, that that meant it was an exit. Only he would be foolish enough to save her from death. And only she would be smart enough to figure her own way out, while he managed to bust his way in.

“Not this time,” she muttered. With that final tug, she let go of the energy building inside of her. The tug pulled her outside of the blast, and she had just enough sense to watch it as the blast followed her out, consuming the dark world that she floated in. The wrath of this goddess destroyed all that was in it path.

With a smile, she felt the warmth of her bond return, and she wrapped herself in it. Things would be okay. Harry always saved the day.

I0I

Harry pulled once more on the bond, this time harder and fiercer than he previously had. He felt the warmth fill his chest as the potion did the rest. His bond settled, the potion allowing him to hold onto more mana than he had ever thought possible. Even with his plains used up, his still had his mountains, though, those were fast going, and possible used up before he finished his quest. Now he had Hermione'splains, her used up islands, and a mismatch of other sources she could learn to use. His swamps were no effect here, but still used to start that destabilization of diadem.

Halfway through his swing at the Dementor, he felt the explosion. It was eminent, it would happen. Capturing Hermione's mana seemed to be the only source that proceeded the threat, and he had to do everything he could to 1. make sure she survived; 2. make sure he survived; and 3. make sure that the army of endless zombies didn't get him while he was completing one and two.

Harry spun away, using a body of a zombie to deflect some of the damage the explosion was going to deal to him. He finally found the Dementor that held Hermione, after a trial and error period of several years. Now, he just had to survive this blast and-

“DAMN IT!” He screamed. But it was not heard over the blast.

The blast tossed him into the wall, knocking both the wind and sense out of him. On wabbly legs, he stood back up, pushing his gunblade against the ground. He had long since run out of bullets, relying solely upon the blade to fight. Parts of zombies, cloaks, and weapons were strung around, hanging on and off of every crevice, crack, and anything was covered in some kind of goo or mess. He glanced up at his impact mark, chuckling slightly. He wasn't surprised, he was used to seeing 'Harry' shaped impacts on walls, floors, ceilings, roofs, etc., etc.

He groaned, clutching his heart. The potion flared the mana, burning him slightly.

“You know, that was incredibly stupid,” Harry said. The mana flared again. Looking at the path he had just taken, and another at the end of the cave, he took his chances, walking up the path behind him.

He felt the smoke rolling off of him, healing him as he walked. The mana flared again, and he just staggered along.

“Yes, I've done things like that before, and yes you can take care of yourself.” He knew that talking to himself was a sign of insanity, but he had take to it after wandering and fighting in this place.

He knew that time slowed down in here even more, after destroying the diadem. If only to ensure that the person inside would be too weak to fight off Riddle when they emerged. They had not expected Harry to be one of a kind though. He couldn't keep track of the days in here, the lack of light preventing him from even getting a good biorhythm set. He only had to guess that it had been several years.

The mana burned again, and he leaned against the wall, this time, the anger in Hermione's plains evident. “Did you expect me just to leave you there?” He ignored the replying burn choosing instead to stand back up and walk toward what he hoped was the exit. Lupin had left him the map, but he had moved so far off it, that Harry could tell really if he was going the right way.

“Give me a break, I don't have directions.” Harry said to the burn. “Its not my fault I'm lost.” He rubbed his chest, trying to calm both the burn and his own heart. He did not know how long he had, this potion untested.

Another burn, and he decided not to comment. He was know for his stupidity, as well as his brilliance. They just happened to often contradict each other.

He walk in silence, the burn bobbing in his chest, rising and falling like waves. He felt Hermione's plains holding on, her holding onto him. That alone gave him the strength to walk on, through the pain of hunger that began to settle into his stomach, the pain in his legs that came from walking too much, and the headache settling in his head. He had to be strong though, the ending had to be near.

“Almost there,” he muttered as the burn began to fill his chest, swarming out to his arms. He did not know how much time had passed, only that he hoped that they did not close it up behind him.

The path continued upward, there were not zombies following him. He could only hope that this was the path to the sun. The path to freedom. The path to Hermione.

I0I

Ron followed Lupin out of the tunnel, thankful to see the sunlight coming from the entrance. The sounds of impacts and explosions echoed up behind them as they ran. He had to trust Harry on whatever he was going to do.

Lupin carried Hermione, holding her tightly to him as he ran in front of Ron. Ron knew that Hermione was fast becoming the reason for Harry to keep going. To fight these battles that they needed to win.

Not a moment after Lupin passed through the entrance, did Ron follow him. The outside had not changed much from their entrance into hell and their exit from it.

Ron quickly conjured a mat, letting Lupin place her down. They watched her, surprised to still see her breathing, shallowly, but breathing.

“What do you think Harry's doing in there?” Ron breathed, finally find his own chance to. The run up had been killer, and he didn't realize how out of shape he was. Then again, Lupin seemed to be in the same position, breathing deeply.

“Hopefully winning, but right now I have no idea,” Lupin said. They sat in the sweeting sun, switching their gazes between Hermione and the entrance. Ron resisted the urge to look at his watch. He trusted Harry to get out in time, though, he did not want to think of what would happen if the man didn't.

“What was your problem with Harry?” Ron asked, to void the silence. Lupin looked up from his watch , surprised at the question.

“Everyone seems to be asking me that a lot. You, Tonks, Hermione, hell even Harry asked me it,” Lupin said. He looked worn, tired and beaten almost. Their trip into hell must have taken its toll on him. “Its a lot of things really.”

“Well, i think we've got a few,” Ron said. He gave into temptation, and looked at his watch. “three minutes.”

“Sure, all the time in the world,” Lupin said, smirking like a joke was told. “I guess part of it has to do with his high and mighty act. Harry already me the riot act for it, or rather Dan did.”

“Mr. Granger tore into you?” Ron questioned. He couldn't believe it, Mr. Granger barely knew the guy.

“Right to do it too, but that is beside the point.” Lupin stood up for a moment, walking toward the entrance. “I thought that when he came back, things would stay the same, that he would be James, all over again. Strong, egotistical, protective.”

“Which of those things isn't Harry?” Ron couldn't help but ask. Lupin shook his head.

“He's not James, and I thought he was going to be him, confident, but still afraid.” The air grew silent, as Lupin gathered his words. “There is not any fear in Harry, not like there was in James, especially about Lily,” Lupin shook his head. “He looked almost dead, his eyes I mean. There was nothing there. But he still fought. God, could he fight. How he did it, I don't know. He didn't need any of us anymore.

“I want to say that he is James, with a Lily thrown to calm him. I want to say he is Lily, with a little of James to rattle the cages from time to time.” Lupin sat back down, next to Hermione. “He's more like Harry's grandfather, James's father. A stonewall, impossible to penetrate with emotion. Except by Harry's grandmother. She was able to get through to him, no matter what the scenario. Much like Hermione does for Harry.”

“So what are you worried about then? Do you know what Harry is going through right now to save her?”

“I'm worried about what will happen to Harry if Hermione doesn't come out of this alive,” Lupin said. “I saw what the war did to James' father, it damn near destroyed him. Had he not been killed, I doubt that there would have been much of him left after the war to finish off.”

“You think the same will happen to Harry?” Ron asked, looking back at the entrance. Lupin stood, letting go of Hermione as he did.

“Why else would he had stayed behind?” Lupin said. Ron wanted to disagree, he wanted to agrue, but he understood. They did not leave one of their own behind when they could get away with it, but they had her body. As much as it pained him to say it, Hermione was dead.

Taking one look at Lupin, he stood, knowing their time frame had run up. “Magic or mana?” Ron asked, raising wand. Lupin looked at the entrance for a moment before turning away. They lost two of their own, their brightest and their strongest.

“Mana.” Lupin's gaze was upon the endless desert. Ron felt some relief that the man would not see his own tears as he began to gather the energy.

The forests represent nature, a cycle. All things live, and they all must die. It was their turn to enter the great beyond. Ron kept repeating that to himself, hoping that it would help ease his pain. “You think we should put Hermione's body in there? I mean, so at least it is with Harry?”

“No, we should bring her back to her parents,” Lupin said. Ron caught the old werewolf wiping his eyes with his arms. “Close it up Ron.” He didn't mean to stall, but maybe it just took a few more seconds for Harry to come through.

The moss this time did not build the shield like it had before, but expanded over the rocks. He was going to bring them down over the entrance. He let the moss grow, expanding as it pushed against the rocks. The moss continued to expand, grow, and outright demolish the stones that it over took. While he wasn't surprised to see that he could do things like that, he didn't think it would work on too many objects.

The forests drained their energy has he pushed the mana outward, releasing it as the stones and rocks crumbled under his power. With a sad smile, he watched the tomb of his best friend seal, while his other friend lay dead on the ground next to him.

“We should probably head out,” Ron said, turning toward Lupin. The older man nodded, finally looking at the closed entrance.

“I think a portkey to Cairo might be our best choice,” Lupin said, wiping some tears on his shirt. Ron knelt next to Hermione, wiping away a hair blown by the wind.

“You know-”

The crack of thunder disrupted the air, both of their necks snapped to the entrance, a single, bruised fist sticking out of the rock. The hand began to glow red, the rocks shaking around it. Lupin quickly cast a shielding spell as Ron drew his mana reflexively while casting his own spell. They did not know what manner of creature would emerge, nor did they know what it could do them. The only thought running through both their minds was to protect the body of their friend, in memory of their other one.

The ground shock, cracks breaking apart the area around the covered entrance. The fist began to flex and twist, the red spreading out among the cracks in the rocks as it did. It started to move inward before thrusting outward, the red flashing into a white color.

Ron looked over at Lupin, questions flickering across the werewolf's eyes. He shrugged his shoulders, but kept his mana primed and wand ready.

The fist continued to thrust forward before it stopped. Ron turned his gaze away as the red shifted into a bright white light. The thunder snapped and the force of whatever was coming out at them pushed them onto the ground. Dust was kicked up in the air and he felt the rocks hit his shield.

“God damn it!” he screamed. A dull pain filled the back of his head and he rubbed it as gently as he could. He brought his hand forward, the red of his blood standing out against the dirty hands.

“Brilliant!”

Ron looked at Lupin, who was laying next to him, covered in the dust and debris of the explosion. The man shook his head, his wand still prime.

“My god, I can't believe that worked.” A man's shadow appeared before them, limping slightly as he walked. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. The force of the mana's acceleration just seemed to overwhelm the seal placed upon the door. I've never seen a force quiet like it, just - BOOM!”

“What?”

“What would refer to a thing, a noun that could only be personified or an event waiting to, has, or is happening.” The voice again, jubilant in tone, making all the more awkward when placed in their presence in the desert. A hand took his own, pulling him to his feet. Ron felt the sting in his eyes as the dust hit it, but blinking a few times, he felt it lessen. “I would happen to be a who.”

“Harry?” Lupin asked first, beating Ron to the draw.

“Of course.” Ron could see the smile upon his face. “Now, I need to do something first before we can talk.”

“What?” Harry just smiled and looked around them for a moment before turning away.

He knelt next to Hermione, lifting her head up off the ground. What dust there was in the air, it settled quickly as Harry held her. Ron felt a little shock to see the spots of gray in the man's hair, and some scars along his arms and face. His clothes were tattered shreds, barely hanging onto him. Lupin put his arm out, stopping Ron from moving closer. The older man shook his head. Ron nodded and began to ignore the pain in his head and his chest as he watched what was happening before him.

“Hey, you ready to go home? I am,” he spoke in a soft voice, like to a child. “I hope this works Hermione, because Hell's going to find me at its doorstep again, just to drag you out of it.” He caressed her hair, brushing it out of her face. “And if you're in heaven, St. Peter better keep you at the door. Cause you're still needed here.

“So, one for the money, two for the show,” he leaned closer. Ron could just barely hear him over the pounding in his head. “Look out baby, here I go.”

The spark of mana filled the air. Ron felt the heat beginning to burn away what air there was in the air. He felt it sucked out of his lungs as he collapsed to his knees, choking. Lupin stood only a second longer before falling next to him. The pounding sensation in his head only got worse as the light got brighter.

He held his head in his hands, pushing against the pounding sensation that filled it. His eyes felt like they were being pushed out of their sockets. He couldn't even breath as his throat felt constricted. The bright light began to turn black.

I0I

Harry pulled back, smiling lightly as Hermione's eyes fluttered open. It felt good to not have that burning sensation in his chest. Worse then heartburn really. He kissed her lightly on the lips again, feeling the fire still burning for her just beneath the surface.

“You can't get rid of my that easily,” Hermione whispered. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as he possible could go. He just smile as she erst against him.

“I tried that, though it didn't work out to well for me,” Harry said as she pulled out his neck. “Seems that hell looks a lot like a world without you in it. Did you know that?”

“Must have, because you weren't in my world either,” Hermione said. He felt her calm shake over the bond. Tears began to form in her eyes as the implications of the day began to settle in. “Can I have a moment, then can you hold me again?” He nodded, knowing she needed to get through the surge on her own.

“Take all the time you need,” Harry said. He laid her back down on the mat. Standing up, he noticed Moony and Ron on the ground. Moony was just staring at him while Ron looked unconscious.

“Seems someone is going to be learning a lesson,” Harry said. He offered his hand to Moony, pulling the werewolf onto his feet. “How you been?”

“You're alive?” Moony asked instead. Harry raised an eyebrow, slightly confused.

“In almost every sense of the term I am,” harry said. “You're going to have to check with Hermione to confirm on that idea, but for the most part, yeah, I'm alive.”

Moony shook his head, shaknig the rocks out of it before grabbing Harry into a bear hug. “I thought you were dead.”

“I think we just established that I was alive,” Harry asked confused. He waved off the response though, letting go of his friend. “We really need to get back. The three of us need to be check out.” He motioned back to Hermione and then Ron.

“You see fine, just a little older,” Moony said, looking at Hermione who didn't seem to be moving much. Harry knew she was muttering, and all he could do was offer the comfort of the bond, which she had anchored herself to it seemed.

“Not quite stable up here,” Harry said, tapping his head. “Been missing a few screws for a while. And years of isolation can drive someone round the bend.” He shrugged his shoulders, then motioned toward Ron. “Now, him, he's an idiot.”

“What do you mean?” Harry couldn't help but smile at the confusion on the Marauder's face.

“I mean, he pooled his mana, and didn't use it,” Harry said. “It backfired on him.” He chuckled as he removed something from a pouch on his torn pants. He placed a round stone on Ron's chest before standing back up. “Brilliant way to finish a mission though. Knock yourself out.” He laughed again before going over to Hermione's side.

“You okay?” Harry asked. “And don't give me any of this 'I almost died' shtick.” He got her to giggle, a smile forming on his face. “You didn't 'almost die,' you lived. And got yourself out of it on your own too.”

“Pretty stupid thing of me to do huh?” She asked. She started to move, as if to sit up, but Harry stopped her.

“Stay seated,” his tone of voice leveled off, not having the jolly carefree note to it as it did moments before. “Ron passed out.” He felt himself going into doctor mode, checking every part of her body for damage or injury. He started with her head, moving it side to side.

“You mean I left my body and I'm in better shape than he is?” Hermione asked, shock written across her face. Harry nodded as he continued to examine her. She seemed to give in, letting him look her over. “Why did you take my islands from me?”

“I didn't take them per say,” Harry said. His voice had changed tones as he moved his knees so he was sitting instead of kneeling next to her. “I need to access the mana from a blue source in order to stabilize the destructive nature of both the red mana and the white mana. Think of it like adding water to a potion base to dilute it so it does not harm a person, only the object intended for it.”

“You talk too much,” Hermione said. She reached up, patting his cheek with her hand. “I know how you feel right now, the bond is telling me. So shut up, and lets get back home.” Harry lifted her up, letting her rest against his chest. He didn't feel tired anymore, like he could even head back in there. Not that he wanted to, just the thought that he possible could went through his mind.

“How are you doing that?” Lupin asked. He looked stunned, but Harry understood that response.

“I lift with my knees,” Harry said. “Keeps the pressure off my back.”

“Are you saying I'm fat?” Hermione asked through a giggle. He felt her relaxing, wanting to go to sleep. He gave that thought a gentle push through their bond. She didn't argue with him, if anything began to fade faster into her dreams.

“Not at all, simply that by lifting with the knees, the tension is placed upon those joints, instead of the vertebrae.” Hermione nodded against him as he walked up to Moony. “Think you can manage to get Ron at least sitting up?”

“Yeah.” Harry couldn't hold back the smile on his face, knowing that he thoroughly had Lupin confused.

“You have so much explaining to do when we get back,” Hermione muttered against his chest. He shook his head, knowing that it was a battle he had already lost.

“Brilliant, another thing that you people are going to bug me about,” Harry said. His smile offset his words though. “Now, lean him against me.”

“What do you want me to hang onto?” Moony asked. Harry knew it probably was a sight to see him carrying Hermione and Ron leaning against him like a drunk.

“Grab my shoulder.” Moony did, the grip hard enough for Harry to do what he needed to. “Now, this isn't going to bumping and dangerous in anyway.” He began to draw his energy inward, letting the magic encompass them all. He concentrated on the destination, knowing that he was about to do his specialty, the impossible.

He smiled lightly at the brightly colored world spinning around them. If Moony had his eyes open, he certainly was in for a wild ride. As always, using magic in this manner, charms and such, he had greater control than just about anyone he knew. Now if he could only stop making things explode...

With a lurch, he felt the magic stop and the world stopped spinning. He stood inside of the the hospital wing, with Fleur and McGonagall talking about something.

“Hello ladies,” he said. The reception he got wasn't the one he expected. Both Fleur and Minerva jumped a good half a foot before pulling their wands on him and screaming. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

“Harry, you're back already?” Minerva asked first. He just nodded as he moved toward a bed. Ron's head smacked against the floor as Harry carried Hermione to a bed. He didn't respond to either Minerva's question or Ron's sudden change in vertical to horizontal. He only cared about Hermione.

After she was taken care of, they could get to the less important things.

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