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Harry Potter and the Final Enchantment by Solomon Aegis
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Harry Potter and the Final Enchantment

Solomon Aegis

Chapter Two

Not Potions Again?

The sun had not broached the horizon as seen from number 4 Privet Drive, and the light in the street outside was that bluish-grey colour of the earliest part of dawn that most people never see. Harry and Hermione were woken from their slumbers by a quiet but insistent tapping on the window. Harry stirred first and as he surfaced he felt the warm presence of the witch by his side still cuddled under his arm.

The fact that she was here had changed his whole outlook on life. Yesterday he had contemplated a short trip to the ministry and a quick step through the veil, at least it would have been painless, and maybe on the other side he would have found friends, but now it was the last thing on his mind, maybe, just maybe, there was a chance again.

The tapping intruded on his thoughts and moving carefully, so as to disturb his still sleepy partner as little as possible, he got up and opened the window. The large snowy owl which had been perched on the window sill hopped into the room, and with a muted hoot greeted her owner.

"Hello girl," he said softly, "well it seems that now I have two friends with me, things are looking up." He smiled at her, and stroked the bird's head, receiving a gentle nip on his finger for his pains.

Hedwig held out her leg and Harry undid the ribbon holding the message to it. He rummaged around in the drawer of his old desk and found a few owl treats which didn't look too far past their sell by date. The owl accepted his offering, then hopped to her perch on the wardrobe and took a drink from her water bowl.

The young witch on the bed stretched, and yawned as Harry went back to sit beside her. "Hi sleepy head." he kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb his sleeping relations.

"Hi yourself. You OK Harry?" Hermione asked. She was happy; her old Harry was back, not completely carefree, but at least not brooding and morose.

He smiled, "Yeah, never better." Fully aware that her presence was the fillip his emotions had required.

She gave a quiet giggle. "Hedwig bring a letter?"

Harry unrolled the parchment. "More a note really, it's to you from Ginny."

"Oh, read it to me Harry, but I warn you that the news may not be good," she said expecting it to be much worse than that.

Harry read out loud. "Hermione; sent Hedwig to you as I don't know if you have found Harry yet. Oh witch of little faith," remarked Harry. "Keep her with you and send her back when you do. I have found out what my prat of a brother has been up to and why he acted the way he did. By the way he is really, really sorry, but I'll explain more when you find Harry. Don't forget to give him my love, Ginny."

Hermione watched Harry intently as he put down the note. "She still loves you, you know." she said.

'Yes, I know," Harry sat back down on the bed and sighed. "That's what makes it all so difficult. The only way I can save her is to make her unhappy. I could never drag her into all of this."

"That's odd, you never minded dragging me into it Harry," Hermione said slyly.

"Do you really think that, it hurts me every time," he said, "When Dolohov hit you with that curse I though my whole world had ended." He looked at his friend of almost forever, and her eyes caught his. "Damn! He said, louder than he meant to, "why does growing up have to be so hard?"

"I think it's hard for everyone Harry, and we all make mistakes from time to time," said Hermione wisely, "It's just a bit harder for you." 'Wow that was a bit of an understatement.' She looked at the note and her brow creased as she pondered the words. "Umm… what do you think Ron has been up to?"

Harry was lost in thought, wondering if Hermione had just admitted that she was fallible too, and was caught out by the sudden change of subject. "Oh…Err… I don't know, mixing his potions most likely." He suggested with a laugh. "That letter was so out of the blue, not like him at all; something must have set him off."

"Well he's seventeen and he thinks he's in love" Hermione said her tone suggesting that love was a subject Ron should steer clear of. "Sometimes that's enough, to knock you off your trolley, but whatever the cause it will be a hard job for him to wriggle out of this one without a few marks."

Harry didn't want to start talking about Ron or love again. Ron's actions were far too confusing to understand at the moment, and the subject of love, even think about it, caused him a peculiar kind of pain right down deep inside of him, so this time he changed the subject.

"So what do you reckon we should do now?" Harry asked, "My plans for today were to end at the Ministry behind a fluttering veil." he said far too glibly. Hermione looked at him in absolute horror. "But I changed my mind when you showed up." he added, hastily realising that sharing his darkest thoughts had not been a smart move.

He saw her eyes fill and she reached out to hold his hand "Promise me Harry," Hermione said with a slight waver in her voice, "that you will never think of anything like that again. You are too important to waste your life because of some silly letter; I'll throttle Ronald Weasley when I get my hands on him. …Now promise!" and she crushed his hand in a vice like grip.

"OK… OK I promise," he capitulated, "but you're wrong you know, now Dumbledore is gone I am not important to anyone."

"Despite what you might think you are important to me." Hermione said very, very quietly, but loud enough. "Well I'm starving," she said, trying to gloss over her sentiment, "how about some food."

"Ahh… Good idea." Harry said wanting to catch her eye again, but Hermione would not look at him so he finally gave up. "But we'll need to be quiet the Dursleys don't know I'm back. I suppose we could grab some breakfast and get out of here."

Hermione looked up at the sleeping Hedwig. "If we wrote a note would she take it when she's rested?"

"She'd take it now if I asked her," Harry said fondly, "but yes, no problem."

Hermione found an old piece of parchment and scribbled a few lines.

"I've told her that I found you first guess, and she's to send Hedwig in a few days to you so that we can keep in touch." she paused for effect. "Do you want me to send her your love?"

Harry looked hard at Hermione and he noticed that she wasn't smiling at her jibe.

"No" he said "not now." And he turned to leave the bedroom, so he missed the slight upturning of her mouth as she tied the note to Hedwig's leg.

"No hurry girl, when you're ready." she said with affection, and the owl managed a sleepy hoot to confirm that she understood.

* * *

Hermione followed Harry down the stairs and into the kitchen where she ran right into the back of him, as he had stopped very suddenly in the doorway. For there in the kitchen, with a boiling kettle of water in her hand, was Harry's Aunt Petunia, and although it looked more than a little forced, she was smiling.

'Hello Harry," said Petunia sweetly to him, then turning to Hermione, "…and sorry didn't get the name,"

"Hermione." said Hermione.

"Lovely," gushed Petunia as if the information was essential to her happiness. "Good morning dear." And she poured the water into the tea pot and put some bread into the toaster. "Tea and toast?"

Harry thought the bonhomie was likely to reach a sickening crescendo any second and he waited for it all to turn sour. As he seemed completely lost for words, Hermione answered for them both.

"Err… yes, thank-you. Good morning Mrs Dursley."

Harry didn't move, Hermione thought he looked as if someone had just dumped a bucket of freezing water over him, or maybe that someone should dump a bucket of freezing water over him.

Harry voice, that had deserted him the moment Petunia had smiled at him, tried to make a come back. 'Err…What's going on?'

Petunia smiled again, it made her sharp face look as if she was going to be sick, and Harry was beginning to become very irritated by the whole effect. This was completely turning his impression of his aunt on its head and it didn't fit.

"I just thought you should have some breakfast before you left, before he gets up." She turned her eyes upwards to indicate her still sleeping husband.

Hermione who was minutely scrutinising Petunia pushed past a still immobile Harry and stared intently at his aunt, who grimaced pleasantly at her. Then she jumped and stifled a small scream as Hermione touched the back of her hand with her wand. A pink glow showed just for an instant at the tip of the wand and the pungent aroma of honeysuckle filled the room.

"How long?" Hermione asked Harry's aunt.

The expression on Petunia's face slipped a little. "Very nearly twenty years."

"Hermione what are you talking about?" said Harry now totally perplexed.

"You should have taken muggle studies Harry," she admonished him gently, "then you might have picked up probably the only useful tip in the whole course." Harry looked at her blankly, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "How to tell if a muggle has been exposed to a magic spell, that was a revealing charm and it confirms it."

"Oh." said Harry.

Hermione's explanation continued briskly. "Perhaps it isn't obvious to you," Harry slowly shook his head in agreement, "but the signs are all there. Your aunt has been charmed …no not just charmed …changed …almost transfigured," she turned back to Petunia, "Who did this to you? Oh Wow!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly in appreciation of the enchantment, "who ever it was they must have been very good."

Petunia's expression had become somewhat stony, much more like her old self from Harry's point of view. "It was Lily, my sister, Harry's mother. She cursed me." But that final statement held less conviction than ever.

"But I don't understand." said Harry in frustration.

Hermione decided to take control of him at that point. "Sit down, have some toast and tea, and perhaps we can persuade your aunt to tell us about it."

Harry did as he was asked, and with the three of them sitting quietly Petunia began.

She explained how wonderful it had been when the two girls were very young, they were more than sisters, they were friends, and then of the rift that came between them when Lily received her letter from Hogwarts. Of the jealousy, and back biting, the scathing remarks, the prejudice and eventually, the hate.

"That doesn't sound like my mum," said Harry glaring at his aunt.

"No Harry you're correct, it all came from me. Lily took all my insults in her stride and in a way her acceptance made me worse. The only time she ever fought back was when she put this spell on me, and even then I suppose she was doing it for my own good, but I have to admit I didn't see it that way." Petunia sighed a deep sigh. She described to them the argument that led up to the spell and what it did to her and then she went on to tell them why she had married Vernon, and how he blocked everyone else out, everyone but Harry.

"You knew how I was feeling?" said Harry hotly. His aunt merely nodded, "And you did nothing?"

"I didn't want to get involved, and you made Vernon so angry by your presence in the house that I could concentrate on his emotions. It was wrong, I realise that now, but it was easier to ignore you." She admitted.

Hermione having listened to this exchange confronted Petunia. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Ahh well, when Harry retuned at the end of your last term I could tell that something momentous had happened, he had lost someone or something important, but he left before I could summon the courage to ask. Then last night you both woke me," Harry and Hermione looked at each other, what did she think had happened in that small room, but Petunia continued as if she hadn't noticed, "Last night was the first time I really listened to someone else, really understood and…" Harry's aunt looked at something in the palm of her hand "Oh Lily, I am so terribly sorry."

She stood quickly, placed something on the table and took the cups and plates to the sink. Harry picked up a small square of card from where Petunia had placed it and turned it over, he stared at the photograph of two young girls, maybe six or seven years old, arms around each other smiling into the camera. He felt Hermione's head touch his as they both gazed down on what could only be described as a picture full of happiness.

Petunia Dursley regarded the two sitting at the table and for the first time gave Harry some good advice. "I lost it all Harry, I can never reclaim the feelings Lily and I had for each other, she is gone, and I have become too bitter to forgive either of us." She walked to the table and stared down at Harry and Hermione, "Friends are very important, if you have a problem with one of them then find a way around that problem, don't let it fester and turn friendship into hate." Petunia nodded toward Hermione. "This one here is true Harry, she will never let you down," she smiled and tapped the side of her head, "I can feel it, in here." There was a noise from upstairs and three pairs of eyes looked towards the ceiling. "Quickly, you must go before he gets up."

"Mrs Dursley, would you like me to remove the spell?" Hermione asked quietly.

"You could do that?" There was a little fear mixed in with the wonder of her words.

"Yes," the young witch nodded.

Petunia considered the offer for only a brief moment, and shook her head. "No thank-you Hermione, it is the only thing of Lily's I have left, and maybe she was right, perhaps if I listen enough it will do me some good."

Harry and Hermione collected up their few belongings and readied themselves to leave; at the front door Petunia stopped Harry with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at the only real connection to his family that he had.

"Harry, I hope you find what you are looking for in life, I know I haven't been any help in the past, but if there is anything I can do, I am here." Harry could tell that for once his aunt was actually being sincere.

"Thank-you Aunt Petunia…" It seemed that Harry was going to say more when a bellow from upstairs shattered the air.

"PETUNIA WHERE ARE YOU? I CAN'T FIND A CLEAN PAIR OF SOCKS."

She turned and called up the stairs. "Coming Vernon!" and then turning back to Harry and Hermione said, "Quickly before he comes down, good luck to both of you." With that last remark she returned to the hall and shut the front door.

* * *

Harry and Hermione walked into the centre of Little Whinging while they decided what to do next. It was still very early and there were few people about, so they sat together on a bench outside the post office and dug in their pockets to see what money they had. There wasn't much of it, four Galleons, ten Sickles and half a dozen Knuts; it wasn't going to get them very far. Well there was only one place they could get more, Gringotts the wizarding bank in Diagon Alley.

"We could apparate Harry," suggested Hermione.

Harry thought for a moment. "We could, but I don't know," he replied, "Getting to Privet Drive was easy enough, I know it so well, but I could end up anywhere and theoretically I am still under age."

"Only by a few days." Hermione tried to reassure him. "Do you think the Ministry would bother with a minor infringement with everything else that's going on?"

Harry said nothing but gave her a look over the top of his glasses. "Yeh OK… if they had a chance to get at you then they would." She said, shrugging her shoulders. "So what are we going to do?"

Harry suddenly had an idea, gave her a wink and grabbed her hand. "Come with me." he said grinning all over his face, "I've got something to show you."

They set off walking down a road that cut through the small shopping centre and as they turned the corner Harry gestured dramatically.

"It's the bus station," said Hermione flatly, "What good is that going to do us? We haven't any muggle money."

"I know," said Harry, "but I do have one of these." and from the side pocket of his haversack he produced his invisibility cloak.

The early morning bus was quite empty to start with but as they got closer to the centre of London it began to fill up. Harry and Hermione spent a happy three quarters of an hour dodging muggles as they moved from seat to seat. At one point Hermione almost gave the game away when she burst out laughing. The final stop for the bus was not all that far from Kings Cross and both of them knew the way from there to the street which held the Leaky Cauldron. The dirty looking pub was, as usual, reassuringly present between the record shop and the bookstore. Harry and Hermione marched up to the door and pushed it open. The pub was empty of customers, Tom the barman was the only other person there. He nodded in recognition to Harry and then to Hermione as she walked to the bar and arranged accommodation for them. They didn't linger but continued on through the pub to the back courtyard and thence through the wall and out into Diagon Alley.

This wonderful wizarding place was as deserted as the pub had been as all the shops were still closed. There was a cleaning wizard some way up the length of the alley and the orange tabard he wore over his robes proclaimed Nuacus Cleaning. He waved a broom back and forth over the cobbles and small bits of rubbish would fly up to the bristles as the broom passed over them and then vanished, leaving the street as clean as… well a new pin.

There was still an hour or so before Gringotts would open but Harry and Hermione knew there was one place they would get a response, as long as they made enough noise. They walked up the Alley past Ollivander's Wand Shop, Harry glanced in, the window display looked dustier than ever, and then Fortescues Ice Cream parlour boarded and locked shut. It reminded them that both the owners of these establishments had vanished without a trace, but at least there was one shop that was still trying to maintain normality. Number 93, the home of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, garishly painted it looked like a large firework ready to go off. Harry banged on the door, initially there was no reply but he persevered for several minutes. He was just about to resort to more drastic efforts to attract someone's attention when a red haired head poked out of one of the upstairs windows.

"Who's making all that racket?" shouted one of the Weasley twins, Harry couldn't tell which one.

"It's us, let us in, please!" Hermione shouted up.

"Hermione, Harry, OH… hang on I'll be down in a mo," and the red head disappeared again.

The flat that Fred and George Weasley lived in over their shop was very small, hardly big enough for the two of them, but it was dry and cheap.

The four of them sat perched on various oddments of furniture that were scattered around the living room.

The twins seemed a little disconcerted to have company but Harry put that down to the early hour.

"Well," said Fred, "I'll go and make some tea." and he disappeared quickly into the small kitchen.

"So," said George a little warily, "bit of a surprise to see you here."

"Not that we mind," said Fred from the safety of the kitchen.

"Very pleased actually," said George putting on a brave face.

"What are you two up to then?" The twins said together as Fred re-emerged with four mugs of tea.

"On the run," said Harry

"Oh…," said Fred.

"Ah…" said George.

"Is that wise?" the combined voices asked.

"Circumstances," said Hermione.

"Ri…i…i...i ght, said Fred.

"You've not forgotten it's Bill and Fleur's wedding tomorrow?" said George. "We are actually closing the shop for the occasion."

"Not that we are especially busy, just now." said Fred.

"No deadly," said George.

"No," said Hermione, "we hadn't forgotten, but we don't know if we are going to be there."

Harry looked at the pair of them, their discomfort had nothing to do with the time of day. They were trying to avoid his gaze, and they weren't looking at Hermione at all.

They were hiding something, and then it all fell into place. "Ron," said Harry, just his name, but it was enough, a sickly expression covered both identical faces, the banter stopped and the twins found the condition of the carpet on the floor fascinating.

Hermione homed in on the two like the path of an uninterrupted bludger. "Fred, George, if you know something about Ron you'd better tell us." Harry winced Hermione was using her old school prefect's voice.

"Ah…" said Fred.

"Well…" said George.

"It wasn't really our fault," they both said together giving each other mutual support.

"Explain," said Hermione coldly.

"We sent Ron one or two things, all harmless really, nothing underhand, we thought it would be fun." said George as if pleading for mercy. "It's just we didn't know he was going to use them all at the same time.'

Hermione's eyes took on a very dangerous glow. "What have you been giving him and how long has this been going on?" she managed through gritted teeth.

"Since you all came to the shop last," Fred confessed. "We felt a bit rotten about the way we treated him, so we sent him a few presents."

"Carry on," obviously Hermione was on the trail and like a Crup going for a muggle, she wasn't going to let go. Harry shivered, he thought the temperature in the room must have dropped several degrees.

"Well the first one was a simple potion, we call it Getawitch." said Fred, Hermione looked horrified. "Drink it and wham." he smiled, thumping his fist into his open palm, then at Hermione's look his smile faded.

"Wham?" said Hermione, Harry could feel icicles forming.

"Yeah wham, 'the first witch you meet will be swept off her feet'," said George.

"Only Ron bumped into Lavender Brown instead of y……" remarked Fred unwisely. He closed his eyes at his stupidity and hoped for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Instead of… who?" was the quietly spoken question and Harry knew that winter had finally come.

"Err… instead of you Hermione." George admitted.

"Go on," was all she said.

"Then we gave him Wiffright for Wizards," George continued, "it's a sort of perfume. The stuff only works if the witch has been previously exposed to Amortentia. It's all very complex but basically the Wiffright is able to mimic the desired aroma that Amortentia has aroused, can be very effective."

Harry noticed that Hermione had gone a rather peculiar colour, "And Ron was using this …stuff?" She asked.

"Yes, right up to the day of Dumbledore's funeral," admitted Fred.

Hermione asked where the bathroom was and disappeared into it.

"So that's what has been making Ron act so odd over the last few weeks?" asked Harry, "the after effects of …what was it, Wiffright?"

"No Harry, that's what we couldn't understand," said Fred, "Wiffright doesn't have any after effects."

"Unless you count getting married to the wrong person," quipped George, "but we do have a disclaimer on the bottle to cover that." He gave Harry a sick smile, Harry didn't laugh.

"So what has caused Ron to behave so oddly?" said Harry fixing the twins with an uncompromising stare.

"Err…We think that Ron started using Felix Felicis after the funeral," explained George cagily, "and because everything started going well for him he went back to using the Wiffright again. To Ah… sort of consolidate his position."

"Hang on you two," said Harry suspiciously, "what do you mean that's what you think he's been doing. Ron's not good enough at potions to make Felix Felicis himself, so where did he get it, and why would he want to use it anyway?"

"Oh Merlin." Fred and George exclaimed together. They looked at each other in defeat and decided that they could see no way out of this but by coming clean. "We made the liquid luck for him." said Fred.

"After Dumbledore died Ron could suddenly see that his chances of survival had plummeted, so if he was to stay with you he felt he was going to need all the luck he could get," continued George.

"Ron's human Harry, we can't all be heroes." said Fred giving Harry a rueful look.

"Liquid courage Harry, even muggles use that term." It was George's turn to speak. "Unfortunately there must be something in the Wiffright that reacts with a component of the Felix Felicis, all his deepest fears surfaced and he felt brave enough to tell you, well sort of. Add to that the recklessness and giddiness that using Felix Felicis causes when you use it too much and you have the Ron effect."

"We only realised when Ginny told us what he did." they both finished together.

"OK perhaps I can forgive him for that …just," said Harry considering the implications if he never chose to forgive the ginger idiot, "but what about Hermione, what about her feelings, didn't Ron care what he could be doing to her?"

"Of course he cared," said Fred.

"He must have done," put in George. "There needs to be some attraction already there for the Wiffright to work properly. You can't create love Harry, so it won't work between complete strangers, maybe them getting together was meant to be."

"Well she's hardly a stranger to him you plonkers," said Harry crossly. "They've known each other for six years, and anyway," he said more quietly, "how could there not be feelings between them." He looked at the twins and shrugged his shoulders. "Anymore than how could I not have feelings for her as well."

Harry realised that the twins were not looking at him but to someone standing by the bathroom door. He turned slowly, and saw that Hermione was back and had been listening.

She had been crying, no she was still crying, he watched the tears run down her face and the rise and fall of her shoulders as she silently sobbed. She walked the few steps toward him, threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to him rocking her gently from side to side as her sobs subsided.

When she was calm again Harry threw the twins one last look which left them in no doubt that if, or when, Harry returned there would have to be a reckoning.

"Come on we are going, I think we have heard quite enough of Weasleys wizarding foul-ups," he said gently to her. She nodded her agreement, then without a backward glance Harry led Hermione out of the flat down into Diagon Alley again.

The street was coming to life and although not crowded, as it had been on so many other occasions, there were at least a few people going about their daily business, life had to go on.

In the time it took them to get into Gringotts Hermione had regained much of her composure, only the odd sniff escaped when she thought Harry wasn't looking. The two of them visited Harry's vault and replenished their depleted purse, then by mutual consent, spent the rest of the morning looking in some of the more obscure shops for any item that might help them on the quest that they knew was before them. They returned to the Leaky Cauldron for a meal and then having been awake since the crack of dawn, retired to their room to rest.

Hermione had been very quiet since their visit to the twins shop; she had a lot to think about and it was going to take her some time to sort it all out in her head. She knew Ron had been chasing her for years now, and up to this year she had resisted. She knew in her heart of hearts that even though their biggest arguments had happened when they were much younger, the memories they left had never really gone away. Sure she had feelings for the big prat, but those memories had always stopped her from falling in love with him, until this year. Now that she knew Ron had been playing with love potions she couldn't be sure that even that love was real.

Did she blame Ron for using the Felix Felicis, she thought he was an idiot for trying it, but Dumbledore dying like that had given them all a sense of impending mortality. If he couldn't survive who could? She understood, even if she couldn't condone. Then there was Harry she could see him now. She was sitting at the dresser brushing out her hair, it seemed to take longer to do each day, and there he was in the mirror. He was half lying on the bed reading a small book they had found in one of the shops in Knockturn Alley. So serious, even more so since he had lost Dumbledore, he was the only one who had remained focused, or at least had given that impression. That's what frightened her about him, she knew what he had to do and she knew what he had to face. She wasn't sure that she had the courage to risk getting too close to him and then lose him again, but if he didn't succeed would she want to live in a world ruled by Voldemort, would she be allowed to live in a world ruled by Voldemort. Her dad would have called it a catch 22 situation. 'You're damned if you do girl, and you're damned if you don't.'

"Oww!," she said quietly as the brush caught her hair. There was a bit of a tangle in her hair at the back where it was hard to reach, she struggled for a moment then she felt a hand on hers.

"Here let me do that," said Harry, "mine's never been this long but I've had a lot of experience with unruly hair." His face smiled at her from the mirror.

Hermione relinquished the brush to Harry who stood behind her and gently drew it through her hair. She could feel the touch of his hands, so soothing; she closed her eyes remembering the way her mother used to do the self same thing for her. The memory caught her emotions and she felt safe and happy as those hands brushed her cares away.

She dared to open her eyes and in the mirror were eyes of brilliant green staring back at her. She could see the light glisten in those eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check, his hand continued to caress her hair until she could stand it no more. She stood and turned to him.

"Oh Harry!" she encircled his neck with her arms and fell into a kiss that if nothing else ever happened between them, would last her a life time. She didn't know where it would all end but she knew now that she could never give up on the man who carried that famous scar.

* * *