He ripped the rectangular plaster off of his forehead and flung it into the crackling fire where it shrivelled up and disappeared. It had been three hours since the others had departed but the burning rage within him had not died down. He was shattered barely able to move but unable to sit still. He stumbled up and down the kitchen his mind reeling over everything that had happened.
His disbelief had now dissipated but he still could not entirely process how they could make such cold decisions about his life. Where was the compassion, the honesty and the loyalty he had associated with these people since he had first met them? They threw him out into the darkness, an unknown world of which they knew nothing. They didn't have the decency to leave him with a shred of information about his former life.
Questions zoomed through his mind and all he wanted to do was escape or maybe shout more. But he was so tired; he could feel the drowsiness descend on him every time he halted his pacing. There was also something else bothering him, if his friend's betrayal wasn't enough. Flashes of memories continued to play themselves back in front of his eyes and all the mistakes he had made on that final night. It was this more than anything that caused him to go in search of Sirius' secret stash of whiskey.
Rummaging through the dank and dust-filled pantry he finally upended a floorboard and was rewarded with a dozen or so bottles of whiskey. As he fell back into his chair, the glass of whiskey warming his right hand, his mind wandered back to his memories again and he sighed resignedly.
"It's been a week Hermione...we need to get over there now. I don't have a clue what McGonagall is playing at ,what strategy she's using but if she thinks she can sit it out, give him all the time in the world, she's wrong. We don't really have the time as I'm sure you've read," Ron finished bitterly. He was referring to the recent attacks that had been made public due to a leak within the Ministry itself.
"I know, I want to go over and see how he's doing too but..." she tried to say but was interrupted instantly.
"He could be dead already. You said he'd be in a state, and we just left him to his own devices! God knows what he's doing over there, that kitchen is packed with knives," Ron pleaded with her.
"He won't commit suicide," she declared and gave him a pitying gaze. She was seated comfortably at her desk while Ron was frantically pacing the carpet that preceded it. "And Lupin has people checking in on him every six hours. He's drinking himself into stupor..."
"Lucky him," muttered Ron earning a glare from Hermione. "I felt like such a prat last week when...you know," he continued shaking his head. "I mean we really didn't..."
"We made a decision, Ron. We justified it and we carried it through," she said slowly and clearly with a tone of finality. "We know Harry more than anyone else; we've been with him through it all so we know how strong and determined he is. He will not be beaten by this."
Ron stopped pacing and gave her a look of incredulity. "But what if he doesn't want to have anything got to do with us. He absolutely hates us, were you not there last week?!"
Hermione attempted to respond but honestly didn't know how. She shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hands palms up. "We'll just have to wait."
"NO!" Ron persisted. "You said it yourself, we know him more than anyone else in the Order. He'll listen to us; we'll make him listen to us."
Hermione gave him a calculating look and chewed her bottom lip pensively. "Okay, we'll do it."
"Good," Ron grinned and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "We should notify someone of the Order in case we're breaking proto..."
"Screw the Order," she exclaimed standing up and flinging her coat around her shoulders. "They've already made enough mistakes." She strode past him to the door and held it open for him.
"I didn't want to do it. Give him up like that...so cruelly. I just thought that, if the Order believed it could work then it would. Everyone was so willing and I didn't want to...to be the one standing in the way of his happiness," Ron confessed quietly standing alone in the middle of the room. His eyes which were drawn to his feet moved to her face. "And I knew, I could see it...that it killed you too."
"During the hunt for the Horcruxes Harry kept saying Dumbledore had once spoken to him about making the choice between what is easy and what is right. Letting him go was the hardest thing I have ever done, Ron, so I believed it was right," she whispered unable to say it aloud.
After sharing a fleeting hug they both made their way through the desolate castle and out into the sunlit grounds.
"Would it not be easier to floo?" Ron asked perplexed.
"Access to Grimmauld Place is probably being monitored. We'll apparate to the park across the road and give Harry a chance to open the door," she explained.
"I could never understand why you didn't join Law Enforcement. We could use someone of your intelligence," he said wistfully as he thought about the idiot he's sacked yesterday for blabbing to the Prophet.
"You could never have afforded me," she pronounced with a smile as they reached the gate and disappeared on the other side.
"At this point he could die of alcohol poisoning," Lupin whispered harshly to Alastor Moody leaning over the spacious desk filled with detecting paraphernalia he was currently seated behind. They were in the Auror Department located deep in the Ministry and he did not wish to be overheard but he also wanted to emphasise his point.
"He's a wizard Remus, he will not die of alcohol poisoning," laughed Alastor callously.
"This isn't funny," Lupin retorted furiously. "Somebody should slip into the house and remove the alcohol from the pantry..."
He was interrupted when a pink-faced and harassed looking Tonks burst into the office. She tried to speak but was too breathless and attempted to sign to them the problem.
"Oh for goodness sake just spit it out!" roared Moody after minutes of pointless signalling.
"Ron and Hermione have gone to see him. I was on watch outside like you asked," she burst out turning to Lupin "and they just showed up. They knocked on the door a few times but there was no answer so Hermione used an Unlocking Charm. It was quite brilliant actually, must ask her..."
"We have to get over there now," Lupin interjected frowning at Moody.
"No, maybe it's time we leave it up to Granger and Weasley. They are after all his closest friends."
"Not after everything that's happened. Harry is changed...you didn't see him that night," stated Lupin.
"Exactly," answered Moody with a wild grin. "He's spent the last week reliving every mistake of his life and especially all the ones he was advised against. He may despise anyone he's ever come into contact with but he's seen firsthand what happens when you don't listen to the people around you."
Lupin and Tonks wore mystified expressions.
"And now he's seen it twice," Moody clarified with a smirk.
"Lumos," Ron mumbled and a beam of light shone down the length of the bleak unwelcoming hallway. "God I hate this place," he said more to himself than to the tense witch creeping down towards the door of the kitchen.
"I don't know why we're sneaking around. He's probably in a coma," she deadpanned pushing the door in to the shadowy kitchen. The pungent smell of alcohol hit them immediately and they momentarily glanced at each other before moving deeper into the confines of the kitchen.
Harry was sitting slumped over the kitchen table and appeared to be unconscious. A decanter of whiskey was located beside his fingers and a glass appeared to have fallen off the table and smashed into shattered pieces around his feet.
"Get a glass of water and I'll wake him up," she sighed steeling herself for a fight.
Placing her hands on his wiry shoulders she gave him a slight shake and persisted until he groaned sleepily. His sluggish eyes sought her out and he heaved a sigh as she came into focus. An instant rage seemed to consume him but disappeared when he thought of the final battle against Voldemort. Memories he had spent the last week reliving and regretting.
He owed her so much, she had saved his life countless times and he had put her life at risk that night and many other nights.
He rubbed his face with his hands trying to escape the drowsiness and lethargy of the alcohol. When he reached out for the decanter Ron thrust a glass of water into his hands pointedly earning him another sigh.
"I know you hate us. I know you don't want us to be here but we're your friends, Harry," Hermione stated simply. She waited fleetingly for a reply and continued when she received none. "You may think what we did was unforgivable and inexcusable but you have no idea. Everything happened so fast, you won and were struck down moments afterwards and then we were being told about this plan to give you all that you ever desired. And it didn't seem ridiculous at the time, not after everything that had happened. In fact it seemed perfectly plausible."
Ron drew out a chair from the table and seated himself in it after acknowledging that Harry was far more composed than he was last week. "Everything Hermione's saying is true, Harry. It was so sudden; we were given the chance to give you a proper life, that's what it felt like. And if we refused we were refusing you the right to a normal life. By the time I began to doubt it...it was way too late."
"If we had known anything of what you actually went through then we would have marched straight back into your life...but there were no reports given to us, nothing to indicate the truth," Hermione resumed seeing that Harry was not making any effort to interrupt. He just sat in utter silence occasionally taking a gulp of water and staring directly at the jagged table-top.
"Harry," Ron spoke loudly hoping to get his attention but it had no effect. Hermione tried again.
"We're not here to force you to understand or to make your life more difficult than it is. We just want you to know that you are not alone. Sitting...wasting away in this kitchen will not help you. There are bigger things going on out there Harry and...Oh are you even listening to anything we're saying?!" she cried finally giving in to her frustration. His eyes flicked to her and then back to the table answering her question.
"Say something," Ron implored. "Anything."
"Please," Hermione begged gently placing a hand on his shoulder and she was thankful when he didn't pull away.
Harry sighed resignedly and rubbed his face with his hands, which she noticed were quivering. "We weren't prepared enough," he barely whispered.
Ron gave her a bewildered glance before asking him what he was talking about.
"We didn't have a clue what we were doing. Find the Horcruxes and then what? Just prance up to Lord Voldemort and kill him like it was the easiest thing in the world. I didn't prepare, I had no idea what I was doing..."
"We were kids Harry," Ron interrupted. "Course we didn't have a clue. It's hardly something you teach children, how to defeat Dark Lords."
"I knew what would happen! I knew I would have to face him, would have to fight him and I did fuck all to prepare. I didn't train enough, I had no strategy , no plan. I made it up as I went along and now people are dead, people who should have survived, who were depended on by their families, they didn't deserve to die, they were trying to protect them from someone I should have been able to deal with!" He was shouting hysterically and choked down sobs as they erupted from his throat.
"How on earth were you supposed to fight Voldemort at the age of seventeen?!" Hermione asked as if it was the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard.
"I was fifteen when I found out I would have to murder him! I was eleven when I found out he had killed my parents, attempted to kill me, was destroyed but still alive. I knew, I knew it was going to be me. But I ignored it. I was lazy and procrastinated all through school..."
"You were a kid; you had every right to your life, your happiness..." Ron argued.
"And all those victims had a right to theirs! But it was jeopardised because I was an idiot! Sure we trained for the Triwizard Tournament," his eyes swivelled to Hermione now "but only because I didn't want to make a fool out of myself and die in some competition. Faced with a dark lord all I had was the defensive magic I had learnt from others, that was all. I should've been spending every waking moment practising ensuring I was ready. But I didn't and now...now Hagrid..."
The horrific images flashed before his eyes again, burning flesh and bone, the acrid smell filling his lungs, the pleading and shrieking of a man as he was consumed by smouldering flames. Hermione shared a worried look with Ron, neither of them had been there when Hagrid had died but it was straight afterwards that Harry had confronted Voldemort for the very last time.
Responsibility had been one of those things that either brought out the worst or the best in Harry. His most brilliant moments usually involved him grabbing it and living up to his name. However he did have a knack of shunning it, in the immature manner teenagers usually do. And although a shameful part of her agreed with his unsympathetic self-judgement she could not forget that he was a boy, a teenager and had done nothing to deserve the dreadful life and horrendous burden that had been inflicted upon him from a very early age.
When she hesitated to counter his declarations Ron gave her an angered look. "That's complete rubbish, Harry," he said earnestly leaning forward in his chair.
"It's not Ron, it's the truth. Hermione was the only one who actually understood what we had to do. That's why she studied, and pushed us, and all we did was moan about it in return," Harry snapped.
"Tell him he's talking bollocks Hermione," Ron entreated.
Again words failed her and further riled Ron.
"You see she knows," Harry said triumphantly waggling his finger in her direction. "She still stuck by us even though she knew we were going to fail."
"No!" she countered instantly. "I always had hope. I always knew you had it in you to defeat anybody who stood against you. But I did wish you...you had worked harder when it came to defensive magic," she admitted with a frown. She bit her lower lip nervously expecting an explosion but nothing happened. Harry just nodded and his gaze returned to the table.
There was a lengthy silence during which Hermione avoided Ron's infuriated glaring and fidgeted with a hole in her skirt.
"So the way I'm reading it, there must be a reason why you brought me back," Harry said his voice laced with resent, bringing their silence to an abrupt end. Ron's gaze shot back to Harry now and he swallowed fearfully.
"Well, er...the Death Eaters are still out there. We fought them, we rounded up as many as we could and we've more or less imprisoned all the main leaders," he explained.
"But as you've guessed they just keep reappearing," Hermione carried on. "And they somehow got wind of your prolonged existence and were going to take you hostage and expose what we had done."
Harry chuckled almost inaudibly as if something Hermione had said highly amused him. "Well they certainly hit a nerve didn't they? One word from them and you guys come storming back into my life and just when it seemed entirely implausible, you manage to further screw it up." He looked at them accusingly taking another sip of water as if to curb his rage. "Did you just tell everybody I was dead or something?"
When neither Ron nor Hermione replied he gave another embittered snort. "Where's my grave?"
"Beside your parents in Godrics' Hollow. It was the only way people wouldn't keep asking questions," Ron explained quietly seeing Harry's face twist with anger.
"We thought that what..." Hermione tried again.
"Save it," Harry growled tired of their excuses. "Just leave, don't you guys have work do to or something?" He tried to remember which one was an Auror but his latest memories were still muddled when compared new memories forced onto his mind.
"How much do you remember from the last six years?" Hermione enquired wondering if he would remember anything from last week.
"Most of it," he responded instantly giving her a look with so much intensity it took all her strength not to flee from the room.
"Please go," he pleaded after another prolonged silence. "I can't even bear to look at you," he admitted with a whine that illustrated all his frustration.
Ron's eyes sought out Hermione and she could tell he wished to leave immediately. There was no doubt that they had made some progress but it would take a lot more time for Harry to sort himself out.
"We'll be back soon, maybe tomorrow," Hermione told him with an air of authority so he knew he had no choice in the matter.
Once they had made it outside into the cool night air Ron rounded on Hermione fuming at her words earlier. "You always had "hope" but you never really believed that he could win! We were out there fighting for the wizarding world and you had no faith in him at all!"
"I didn't say that," she snapped angrily. "He could have done a lot more preparation, we all could have. I left my family, and stood by you and Harry in the fight and you're now questioning my faith?!" She strode away frostily so he knew their conversation was not over but he chased after her.
"We were only kids though, all we wanted to do was live our life as normally as possible as long as we could," he raged walking briskly to stay at the same pace as her.
"No Ron! Harry was right back there, we knew how this was going to end up. We knew at some point we'd have to face Him and we were all terrified but ignored it with our bravado after being named the bloody Golden-Trio of Hogwarts," she came to a swift halt and gave Ron a withering glare. "Do you honestly think you were prepared?"
"No but..." Ron attempted to counter.
"And did you never have the inkling that you would end up fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" she asked rhetorically knowing the answer. The question sent him into a reflective silence and she sighed almost apologetically.
"You always said I was the 'know it all' and it was the one thing in my life I would have loved not to know," she declared before taking off down the street again.
Ron trailed her a few feet behind letting his mind absorb everything. They were now walking through a cobble-stoned street where a few passers-by glanced furtively at the storming pair whose dispositions seemed to rupture the calmness of the night scene.
"Must of been horrible living with that knowledge," he disclosed quietly when he caught up with her. She smiled inwardly and was reminded forcibly of his maturation over the last few years, of the fact that he was a father, that he was a grown man now no longer arguing and bickering with her over the most ludicrous things. Their fights mattered now.
"I always hoped I was mistaken, that I was just as everybody said 'a bossy little know it all' and too proud to admit I was wrong but I was afraid, terrified. It's over now, Ron," she cried frustrated "there's no point rowing over it."