A/N. :blush: I apologize for the very long wait. Grade 1 is such a traumatic experience and I'm not talking about my son. I finally got my act together, I think - enough said.
My thoughts and prayers go to my fellow Filipinos in the Philippines who were victims of nature's wrath and revenge. Thank you to those who gave support.
About the story-
Forgive the multiple POVs. Some may not seem necessary and if you think that you may have a good point It's long because I promised to wake Hermione up.
First italicized part is in the past. Someone was curious about the tension between Warren and Ginny - I couldn't resist.
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Chapter 51 - Portals
September 2011 - London
I'm at a charity to raise funds for outreach Quidditch programs for underprivileged youth. Harry is supposed to be here but something came up at the office. Kingsley called a one of those planning meetings - with her.
I'll be fine with this, eventually. It has been four years since and they won't do it again; I know that. I just need to stop thinking that at one point they did. I need to stop noticing how much more livable he has been since she came back. I need to stop thinking that he still loves her. And I need to stop wondering if he thinks about her when he's with me.
I'll be fine with this...
I look around. There are quite a few familiar faces at this garden event, many of whom I've met through other Quidditch and Ministry functions. I have a glass of wine in my hand and decide it is time to mingle when somebody calls out my name.
"Good evening, Mrs. Potter," that voice, a most annoying one.
"Mr. Gates," I return his civility in kind.
My relationship with the Canadian has always been a hate-hate one. He called me Harry's fan girl to my face the very first time we met and it was downhill from there. To this day I believe that Gates was a bad influence on Harry and that if it were not for him we would have not broken up just before I joined the Harpies. He reminds me of that Harry, the one who questioned what we had, the one who considered the possibility that what we had wasn't 'it' and that whatever it was wasn't enough.
I assume Gates is here because the evening is hosted by the Canadian magical ambassador. Having no desire to exchange fake pleasantries with him, I turn away in search of someone else to converse with. Unfortunately no one was close by.
"Where's Harry?" he asks, "I was hoping he'd be here."
"He's at work."
I crane my neck looking for someone available, anyone.
"Ah, yes, his mistress," he comments not innocently. Hermione must have told him. He smirks and adds, "I meant his job."
"Of course, you did," I reply without emotion, not giving him the satisfaction.
"How are things between you and Hermione?"
"You'd have to ask her."
"It must be hard for you that they're working together again, just like old times."
He obviously wasn't going to stop. I had enough.
"I'm flattered that you're making all this effort to torture me with old news..."
He laughs, "I'm not trying to torture you any more than you're torturing yourself."
"What do you want, Gates?"
"To help you."
It was my turn to laugh, "If I needed help, you'd be the last person I'd ask."
"Second to the last person," he corrects accurately, "But considering that you decided to keep your skeletons in the closet and the expert you've hired isn't helping you much I figured you're dying to talk about it with someone else."
He is serious. I contemplate my answer before I say it out loud.
"Even if I did, why would I want to talk to you?"
Gates has a ready response to this, "Because I know exactly what you're going through. I know exactly how you feel and I know exactly what you'll end up becoming after all of this, a bitter hag."
"Go to hell."
As I am walking away I hear him speak in my head, 'The answer to your question is 'yes'. He thinks about her when he's with you. That's why he doesn't look at you anymore when you have sex and leaves as soon as he thinks you're asleep. But you know this already that's why you never ask him and why you don't look into his eyes either. You know that what you'll see in them now is not what you saw in them before. At least if you close your eyes as he fucks you you can imagine it to be still there. At least you can imagine that he still loves you.'
By the time he finished I had stopped walking away from him. My face is hot and my eyes are burning. I hate him. He comes closer and stops in front of me, meeting my glare with like emotion. I become aware that we are alone, far from the other guests. I want to leave but he says something that makes me stay.
"All you want is for him to look at you and want you not because of some ring around your finger but just because. It angers you that you feel this insecure and lonely even when he's right beside you. You have this need that he can't fill and you constantly ask yourself why do you stay? You're beautiful, you're intelligent, you have so much to offer Other men desire you. You know it and it makes you wonder sometimes, what it would be like to feel wanted again. If only someone interesting enough had the balls to cross your husband."
His words echo in my head. I could not have said it any better myself. But I've never said it because I've been too much of a coward to live with the truth. I'm too proud to admit anything, particularly to him.
"I would never cheat on Harry."
"Never? Really?"
He moves closer, his dark brown eyes connecting with mine and I feel how he feels. He understands because he went through the same thing with her. His pain is as raw as mine and misery loves company. I don't even notice that tears are running down my cheeks until, with the back of his hand, he brushes the wetness off my face. His hand slips behind my neck and his other arm around my waist. He is looking at me, my eyes, my nose, my mouth, studying me intensely.
I am not sure what happens next. I see him pressing his lips on mine, kissing me hard, raw, full of want. I know it isn't actually happening but I feel as if it is and I can't help but conclude that it is the best snog, real or imaginary, I've been given in ages.
Then I think of Harry.
I remember that Gates is a bastard. My hand comes up faster than lightning and smacks his face so hard it hurt. I am livid at him, shaking, too upset to speak more so as he rubs his flushed cheek and laughs at me derisively.
"You are so easy. You should be thankful you're not my type."
I reach into my purse. He twists my arm and my wand falls on the grass even before I can act on my thought to hex him.
"He doesn't love you, not the way you want to be loved. So, why do you stay? Is it the name? Is it because you're afraid to die alone?"
I snatch my arm back from him. He is getting it wrong. I stay because he asked for another chance., because I love him and because whatever he gives me is enough.
Gates laughs again, shaking his head.
"Seriously?!"
I get more angry as I realize the possibility that he actually read my mind.
"What's so amusing?"
"Nothing you'd find funny," he replies, still chuckling, "Some guys have all the luck. Here's some advice. Whether you stay or go you're screwed. Martyrdom isn't worth it and anyone else won't be good enough. There is no happiness for you either way but you don't have to be the bitch that we both know you are."
He is such a hypocrite.
"If martyrdom isn't worth it then why bother convincing me to give up my marriage for her?"
Gates shakes his head, "You just don't get it, do you? You don't get it that you don't really love him."
Before I can retaliate with a snide remark of my own he adds, "You've fucked this up countless times, I don't know how you live with yourself."
Gates leaves me alone for the rest of the evening. Much later, I Disapparate home. Harry's meeting with Kingsley is over and he picked up the children from the Burrow. I find him tucking the kids in bed and he tells me what James just did that was so funny. I laugh, then he asks me if I'm okay. Warmed by his concern I nod. I wasn't but I am now. I know in my heart Gates is wrong. I love Harry and he cares about me. These are the reasons why, in spite everything else, I'm still here.
XXXXXXXXXX
Present day
Harry felt cool wind in his face and vast emptiness beneath him. With his eyes closed he was certain he was flying but when he opened them the sensation disappeared. He found himself in a river, neck-deep in water, keeping himself afloat. The narrow waterway was between two rock-solid, unscalable cliffs and a thin slit of blue sky was the only thing he could see above. He could not think of where he was and how he got there but he had to get back to Manila, to the fortune teller's tent where he had left Hugo on his own.
He remembered now that as they were saying goodbye to the Professor he sensed too late a small army of Muggles with high powered firearms surrounding the Seer's tent. Professor Trelawney's assistant had called someone who called someone. It had to be Malvado who sent the Muggles to attack.
It angered him that Hugo was their intended target and he could only think that it was because of the prophecy. He was pissed at the situation, thinking how eerily similar to his own Hugo's life was turning out to be Hugo was just a kid and it was unfair for Hugo or any other thirteen year old to live through what he had.
What galled him even more was the arrogance with which Malvado sent Muggles to do the deed. To the dark wizard Hugo was a mere fly on the wall, an insignificant pest. Malvado didn't even think Hugo important enough to send wizards or to come himself.
Or maybe it was cowardice. At least Voldemort was man enough to try to do him in himself. Harry had to get back for Hugo. And Al and Rosie. He still had not figured out what to do about the imposters at the Pitch. He would likely need help there but first thing was first. He had to find out where he was.
Given the choices he had he was going upstream. That was really only because he believed nothing worthwhile came easy. He swam against the chilly current, pausing every couple of minutes until the walls beside him began to part and the horizon before him widened. As the river expanded into a larger pool of water, his eye caught something familiar that made his heart skip a beat. He stopped swimming that instant and looked up towards the clearing a few meters from the riverbank. It was her.
He was ecstatic to see her alive. She was talking with an old man, wizard from the looks of him, and from afar he could tell by how still she was that she was attentively listening to what the man was saying.
"Hermione!" he screamed and flailed his arms wildly, "Hermione!"
She couldn't hear him, his voice drowned by the sound of breaking water from a nearby unseen waterfall. He swam towards her as fast as he could, winded he got to shore.
"Hermione!" he mustered to shout out in between deep breaths.
He ran through the wild grass, losing sight of her as he did and when he got to the spot she was gone.
"Where is she?" he asked the old man she had been talking to.
"How do you know her?" the man asked back, eyeing him with suspicion.
"She's a good friend. I have to talk to her."
Deciding he was indeed a friend the man responded, "Too late. She has gone back."
"Back?"
"To the living."
It suddenly dawned on Harry what that meant.
"I have to go back too," Harry told him.
"I guess you can because like her you're not really dead - yet," the man answered simply.
That's a relief.
"How do I go back?"
"The same way we all cross between worlds. Portals."
"Portals?"
"Entrances, exits, walkways, bridges, tunnels, funnels, there are so many different kinds. They manifest uniquely to each and every one of us, often so seamlessly we don't even notice that we've crossed. I study them, even made one myself. I used to call them Death portals but knowing now that they are multi-directional I've renamed them to prevent a gross misnomer before it gets out of hand."
"Great," he butted in, "Um, could you direct me to the closest one please?"
"Sure. You're standing on one," and as his face betrayed his puzzlement, the man tried to make him feel better, "No need to be embarrassed. You can't see them."
"And you can?"
"No, of course not. No one can except Death Itself. However I have studied them long enough to sense the presence of the significant energy required to keep the passage from collapsing onto itself and for souls to cross between worlds safely. I've documented eighteen natural ones so far. See," he showed Harry what looked like a map of wherever it was they were, "The greens are the active ones, the blacks are closed permanently and the reds are ones which I predict will become one They are highly complex structures, with endless potential, unstable, though, can only accommodate one soul at a time."
This was all very interesting but...
"I really need to get back. How do I activate it?"
"You don't. It will send you back when it has replenished its energy sources."
"And when will that be?"
"By my crude estimation, in about twenty minutes, unless the authorities discover its existence and shuts it down for good..."
"The authorities?"
"Yes. The way they do it is barbaric..."
The man described what he meant. He didn't have time for any of this.
"Right..."
"They want them sealed of course," the man interrupted again, eager to share his thoughts about the matter, "I can understand the necessity to regulate soul travel. After all, even though not everyone wants to be here, this is supposed to be where everyone spends eternity."
"I'm kind of in a rush. I don't have twenty minutes to wait around," Harry explained.
The other rolled his eyes, "The living are always in a hurry. They can only think of the finite."
"Um - true. Thanks for understanding," he asked again, "So, are there any other nearby portals I can use sooner?"
"It's quite unfortunate that mine isn't functional anymore," the older man sighed, then pointed at his map, "And from what I can see here all the other active natural portals I know of are currently set to enter this dimension, that is except for the Death Highway."
"And the Death Highway would be...?"
"Death's portal, the only sanctioned one in this universe. It is also unique in that it is a many-way street all the time. Many try to travel through it but the checkpoints are aplenty so unless you're travelling with Death or are Death Itself, you're better off waiting for this one."
"Are you certain?"
"I'm afraid you're stuck with me for the next nineteen minutes. In that time I can tell you all you need to know about portals and portal travel. Of whose company do I have the pleasure of?"
"My name is Harry, Harry Potter."
"Ah, yes. Death's enigma. I've heard of you," the man said knowingly, "And it is quite interesting that while our paths never crossed in our lives before you're here to visit with me of all Beings. Why do you think that is Mr. Potter?"
"I have no idea," Harry shrugged at his thoughtful question, "Excuse my rudeness for not knowing but who are you?"
"Around here they refer to me as the Mad Monk. I was born Grigori Efimovich Rasputin but you may call me Grigori."
XXXXXXXXXX
Luneta Park, Manila
Salazar Malvado stood atop the peak of the roller coaster tracks, watching the smouldering remains of what was the Seer's tent, the fire in his eyes reflecting both the spectacle five hundred feet below and what he was feeling inside.
"Where is the kid?!" he hissed in the local tongue at the wizard beside him, the one he had ordered to oversee the search.
His minion replied fearfully, stammering, "We-we've se-searched everywhere. We-we haven't found him o-or the wizard who wa..."
The lame excuse was abruptly interrupted. With one singular intent the incompetent idiot's neck forcilbly twisted around one hundred and eighty degrees with a concluding snap, turning his face purple in an instant before his entire body went totally limp and keeled over the edge.
"Evanesco," his companion disposed of the free-falling dead man before it could cause more commotion down below. The Brit chastised him, "Was that really necessary?"
"He was useless!"
"Calm down..."
"I am surrounded by morons! I gave specific orders for them to wait for me!" Malvado vented.
"It's done. There is nothing more you can do about it."
"Maybe if I kill one at each misstep those remaining will finally listen!"
"Your days won't be half as fun without clueless followers to boss around," the other wizard pointed out.
Malvado resigned to that fact, "I suppose you're right."
"Our satellite sensors are scanning the area for unexpected magicals and Muggles are afoot combing the fair. There is no need to worry. If Potter and the Granger boy are still in the vicinity we will find them," the wizard assured him then cautioned, "Though, as I said before, we really shouldn't be doing this. He was of no consequence until you messed with his mother. That goes for Potter too."
"I don't care about the prophecy! And no one can touch me, not Potter, not Gates, not Granger and definitely not some thirteen year old brat!"
"But why risk it? Voldemort made that mistake before."
Malvado was tired of that old debate. The dark being known as Voldemort made mistakes but going after the Potter and the Longbottom babies was not one of them. Voldemort did not believe in the prophecy at first but he wanted to eliminate the two predicted to defeat him for the same reason Malvado wanted to eliminate the Granger kid.
He explained himself, "The boy has to die. He is a symbol of hope and hope is an annoying, dangerous thing."
"It would still be wise to leave the boy alone until you have the wand and the rest of the Hallows, especially now that his mother has unexpectedly risen from the dead."
Malvado drew in a frustrated breath with the reminder that he didn't have any of the Hallows in his possession. Malvado wanted all of them, to solidify his immortality. But he had to have the wand in particular. Having the wand would put him at ease. Earlier, when he first heard of the news of Granger's resurrection, he broke the fake wand in half confirming at once that the piece of wood wasn't the indestructible Hallow he had believed it to be. And he should have suspected this when he couldn't get a response from the bogus stone. No one could have survived that attack and the fact that Granger did meant she was still Mistress of Death, which meant she had all three.
His source wasn't so unknowing after all and he was played for a fool. Granger had the Hallows with her all this time, maybe under some undetectable concealing charm. Malvado was pissed that the spy was able to keep that information from him. No matter; the asshole would pay for this embarrassment in the most unpleasant way. But not just yet. He could still be useful. And Granger...
"Tell me this. If Granger had the Hallows all this time, why didn't she come after me? Why isn't she coming after me?"
The question had been burning in him since he found out Granger was alive. It had been mind games with her from whence she first came to the area and got involved in his business. Did she know his source was compromised? Was she using him too?
The British Ministry official Malvado considered an ally calculated the question thoughtfully then postulated something Malvado had never thought of, "Maybe she believes in the prophecy. Maybe she thinks her son has to be the one to finish you off. But that doesn't sound like her at all."
Malvado could not agree more. That definitely didn't sound like the Granger he knew from years ago either. It was more likely that she was planning an attack, gathering allies as she had been at that Being meeting, to surprise him when he least expected it. Malvado believed that the best defense was offense.
A phone rang. The Brit reached for it in his robes pocket and answered.
"Yes...yes...okay, I'll let him know," the wizard hung up and said to him, "Jericho. Weasley's suggestion that there's a traitor in his inner circle is making him paranoid. He's asking sensitive questions. He needs to be managed."
"He is of no use to me anymore. You may deal with him as you see fit," Malvado replied.
"And we found the Snitch."
It was all he had to say. Malvado nodded.
"You can go."
XXXXXXXXXX
Holding cell, Ministry of Magic 10th level, London
"I need to call my wife!" Ron cried out.
Ron was in jail; weapon-less, helpless in a real prison. He had been trying to talk the guard into disengaging the wards and removing the physical bars, without much success. His jailer not only ignored him, the ass put on a Muggle show on the telly, one of those dance contests that Ann loved to watch, and turned the volume up.
The Auror paced, thinking, his gaze once in a while falling on the desk drawer some ten feet away from him where his wand and his other personal effects now were. He was hoping for some divine intervention. It was nothing short of divine intervention that allowed him to get out of interrogation with the Legilimens team unscathed. Ron had witnessed Flavius Belcher at work in the past and he was definitely not himself today. He was still puzzled at the passing comment from the Legilimens to stay in jail.
Not minutes later a buzzer rang and the guard shut the telly off. People were coming down the hall. Ron leaned against the metal bars as far forward as he could and tried to see what was happening.
"I am not the enemy! I'm MLE!"
It was Ernie. From the sounds of it, he had been arrested too and was not a cooperative prisoner.
"You're a Potter co-conspirator," Trussell replied.
"Your accusations are baseless! There is no conspiracy! Get your hands off...!"
A wand discharged somewhere close by.
"Ernie! Ernie!"
There was no answer.
"Bastards! What did you do to him?!"
Trussell's face appeared from the right while one of the guards shoved Ernie into his cell. Ron caught his unconscious friend before Ernie could fall to the floor and set him on the bottom bed of the bunk in the room.
"He'll sleep it off," the unqualified Head Auror replied then said to him, "Listen Weasley. This isn't looking good for you. You have a wife with two brand new babies. With the way things are going I cannot promise your family will be left alone for much longer. But if you cooperate..."
Ron felt heat rise up to his face and he could not help his reaction to Trussell's threat. He walked towards the bars as close to Trussell as he could get while the other man backed off.
"If you go anywhere near them you better make sure I don't ever get out of this place because if I do I will hunt you down and kill you."
Beneath the exterior Ron could see Trussell's confidence waver, until the older Auror covered it up defensively, "It's out of my hands."
Trussell left. The guard turned up volume on the telly again. Ron looked at the passed out Ernie, running his fingers anxiously through his hair, hoping Harry and the rest would pull through. As he was doing this his hair got stuck in between the gaps on the metal strap of his Muggle time teller. He winced as he tried to disentangle himself from it, swearing while questioning why he continued to wear the useless contraption.
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Grimmauld Place
Jessie was worried. She couldn't get a hold of Seamus. The last time her husband called he spoke with Ted and told the Auror that Ron had been arrested. Warrants had been issued by the Minister for many Harry Potter supporters working in the Ministry, including her, which meant trouble for him too.
That was about an hour ago. Patience was never a strength. She looked over to Ted across the kitchen counter and asked him to call Seamus again.
"Still no answer," Ted said after a couple of tries, sympathizing with her, worried too, "I haven't heard from Harry in a while either."
Great. Just great. She couldn't stand not doing anything.
"I'll check on Hermione."
On the way up the staircase she saw Gummy in the sitting room in the same spot he had been since he got there, unbothered by the two elvin guards watching him. In the upper level the other elf paced outside Hermione's room, eyeing Jessie keenly as she went in.. The mini-Dementors creeped her out. Gummy creeped her out. The things happening at the Ministry creeped her out. For the first time in her life she was really scared.
Jessie turned to the one person she trusted to make all the creepiness go away.
"Dammit, wake up already," she muttered at her bedside.
A physical scan showed that Hermione's internal temperature had risen significantly in the last hour. She was burning at 45 degrees Celsius, a physiologic impossibility for survival. What now?
She put her wand over Hermione and dispersed a cooling spell. It enveloped her and not a second after it did, Hermione stirred, coming out of her coma straight into a delirious state.
"Hugo..." Hermione was moaning, "Harry..."
XXXXXXXXXX
The Pitch
Ginny woke up from a bad dream. All she could remember about it was that it was a scene from the Battle of Hogwarts more than two decades ago. Voldemort had just declared that Harry was dead and Hagrid set down Harry's limp body in front of everyone. Only in the dream, when she looked closely it wasn't Harry but Al, and Al was really dead.
Tried as she might she couldn't get her heart and her mind to settle down. It was two a.m. Harry's hand on her special clock had been fixed on 'mortal danger' since his call last night. Al's had been stuck there too since he first left the Pitch. It bugged her that it hadn't changed.
She donned on her housecoat and walked down the hall to the room next to hers. Al's night light was on, his figure restful as he slept. He had been so quiet since Gates brought him back. He barely spoke when she gave him an earful and didn't speak during dinner. Al had never gotten himself into this much trouble before and it worried her that she had been too hard on him.
Ginny decided that she would speak to him in the morning, also to tell him, James and Lily about what was happening at the Ministry. It was better that they hear about their father's sacking from her because Merlin only knew what lies the media would be fed. Already she got a call from the Prophet Editor-In-Chief, strongly suggesting an indefinite leave of absence. Her job was the least of her worries at the moment
Somewhat reassured that Al was okay, she went back to bed but couldn't sleep as she cycled through the same thoughts that prevented her from falling asleep last night. She should have told Harry that Gates brought Al and Rosie back and that the Canadian went through his cloak collection. But Harry had too much on his mind at that time. She would have to tell Harry the next time they spoke.
The memory of her latest encounter with Gates made her want to vomit. She felt no deep appreciation for his escorting Al back home knowing he had some ulterior motive for doing it. Her main concern was getting him out of the Pitch as soon as possible and there was great satisfaction that Gates came up empty handed.
There was a knock on her door. It was Ann. She had been crying and Ginny had never known her sister-in-law to cry.
"Is Ron okay?!" she asked wide eyed, her imagination going into overdrive and thinking the worst.
"No. Seamus just called. One of his sources at the Ministry said Ron has been arrested," she said, trying to mask her panic within, "In the morning there will be orders to arrest Harry and Ted too. The Wizengamot is convening and who knows what will happen. They won't let me talk to my husband. Can they do that?"
Ginny wasn't sure, "I don't know. We'll ask Percy."
"Seamus suggests that we leave London, until things get sorted out. Should we? I don't want to leave Ron here but I'm afraid for Rosie and the twins. What are we going to do? Where are we going to go?"
Ginny thought for a moment then answered, "Call Tory and tell her what's happened. I'll let Bill know. He won't mind having us at Shell Cottage."
Ann left. Ginny called Bill, all the while thinking about staying. Jericho had caved in to the pressure and was fighting for political survival. It was the worse time for British leadership to be this unstable. She wanted to be in London where she could make a difference but if things went wrong she wasn't sure she could keep the children safe.
She needed to talk with someone. She could do that after taking the family to Shell Cottage. She quickly dressed and as she got out of her bedroom she saw Rosie follow Ann down the staircase. Al was in the corridor. Something was very wrong.
"Al?" she was puzzled, she didn't quite understand why he had his wand in his hand.
It dawned on her that it wasn't Al even before his appearance changed. Standing before her was a being, an elf but from somewhere else. And he wasn't just any elf. He was an elf who spoke good English.
"We need to rouse the children."
"Who are you? Where is my son?!"
"My name is Magino-o. Albus Severus is safe. Your Ministry leadership is compromised, its upper ranks infiltrated by dishonorable beings who will stop at nothing to be in power. Your husband is deemed an enormous threat to the fruition of their dastardly plans. This is why your other children are now in grave danger," the being pointed to her clock which had changed suddenly, "My task is to keep them alive and to do that we need to leave. You are welcome to come too."
"No! I don't care who you are! You are not taking my children anywhere! And you are going to bring me back my son!"
"Mrs. Potter, do not let my diminutive size lull you into a sense of superiority. I am a trained law enforcement officer and a free elf. You are in no position to bargain."
"Do you have children?!"
"No."
"Well, I do! So don't let my lack of combat experience lull you into a sense of complacency! I will do what it takes to protect my children!"
The elf blushed, flustered at her reaction, "Mrs. Potter, I am on your side. That is what I am trying to do. Warren did say you were going to be difficult."
That bastard! He crossed the line with this one!
The chime sounded. There was someone at the door. The one guised as Rosie looked up from the bottom of the staircase, telling Magino-o who the visitor was.
"It's Dovalov," the other elf said with concern, "What do we do?"
XXXXXXXXXX
Knockturn Alley
Like most days the Jugular was attended by cloaked beings, their faces hidden under the shadows of their hoods, minding no one's business but theirs.
One such wizard occupied a booth in the corner farthest from everyone else. He was fidgeting, waiting, his patience wearing thin. He was nervous, his palms sweating all over the tiny round object in his hand.
Finally he saw him, the man he was to meet. The older wizard saw him too and sat in front of him, immediately chastising him as expected.
"You shouldn't have called!"
"I had to!"
"We can't be seen together!"
"Take it," he shoved the yellow object into the newcomer's hand, "I've done what I can."
The other answered, "It's not my job."
He knew that but he hoped there was some other way. He hesitated and tried to plead his case.
"You don't understand. I can't lie. They will find out..."
"You don't have a choice," the older one stated without emotion.
"These are my friends, my family. It will be impossible to go back to the way things are."
"You should have thought about that before you agreed," the older wizard shoved the object back into his hand and looked him in the eye, "You can do this. I have to go."
"Max!"
But the Head Unspeakable was gone. He opened his hand, hoping the sight of the object would give him ideas about what to do with it. He sat for sometime watching the worn out Snitch flutter weakly before expending whatever little stored energy it had.
XXXXXXXX
Luneta Park, Manila
Clanging noises and screaming voices woke Harry up. He was sitting on cold, cement steps, propped up against the base of a statue. A nearby roller coaster ride was causing the intermittent ruckus. It was dark where he was, save for lamp that flickered yellow light on the other side of the monument. With the awareness came a killer of a headache from the bump on the back of his head. Earlier, as he fell, he had hit his head on something hard and blacked out.
Assessing his surroundings Harry noticed several Muggles passing by, paying him no attention. He was under an Invisibility Cloak which looked exactly like the one Hermione sent him for his last birthday. He scanned to his right, then his left, looking for Hugo. Where was the kid? He was so sure he pushed Hugo out of the line of fire in time. Did he make it out?
There were footsteps approaching him from his right. He gripped the wand in his hand and aimed it at the stranger.
"It's me," it was Hugo in another Muggle disguise, a local man in his twenties.
Harry was relieved to see him. Hugo took the cloak and slipped it into his rucksack.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes," he did look like he was. Hugo continued, "You got hit. I did as much as I could."
Hugo was referring to his leg. Harry moved and immediately felt intense pain shoot up from his right one. He looked down through the tear in his trousers and saw a bullet wound in the belly of his thigh. It was a deep puncture and wasn't bleeding anymore but his bone had shattered and had not healed yet. He got up and gently put weight on it, to test it out. Whatever Hugo did would at least allow him to stand and maybe walk on his own.
"I had to move you before I could finish. I think they're scanning the area for magical activity and I didn't want to risk using my wand unless absolutely necessary," he explained further.
"The Professor-"
"I just saw her. She's shaken but okay. She got out before the tent collapsed. Muggle emergency crew are there," Hugo explained, implying that the Seer would be safe.
"How did you get me out?"
"I dragged you out," Hugo replied then steered his attention towards a group of people heading their way, "Over there. Muggle police doing their sweep. They can't find us. Malvado has spies everywhere. Best to avoid getting Muggles involved in a fight"
Harry didn't want that either, not in such a densely populated event.
"Anti-Disapparition wards," Harry guessed.
His son nodded, "Can you break through them?"
He grabbed Hugo by the arm and tried. They budged an inch. He could keep trying but they had to have a back up plan. Hugo read his mind.
They ambled down the steps and headed for the fair exit but found uniformed men at the gates. Harry tapped Hugo and motioned him to the opposite direction, changing his appearance and clothes as they blended into the crowd that just arrived. With difficulty, he limped badly behind Hugo, trusting his son's lead as he kept an eye on the policemen on their heels.
They ended up within the flow of people heading for the large, dome tent with bright lights and loud fanfare music. When they got in it was packed. About two thousand were in attendance most of whom were looking up as the dwarf-sized ringmaster dressed in a tailcoat and top hat directed everyone's attention to the high flying acrobats on the elevated stage above.
There was a commotion at the entrance. A handful of uniforms came in and began making their way through the audience. Harry and Hugo moved away from the doors hoping to blend in with the constant traffic in the outside aisle.
"Backstage," Harry told Hugo who nodded and led him down the most direct path to where the clowns, jugglers and other ground acts were coming from, hoping to exit that way.
Then, in the midst of gasps from the audience as a tightrope walker almost fell, something struck him. Harry was overcome with an overwhelming unpleasant sensation and the bitter taste of immense hatred. The image of Hugo in his current state came to mind, only his son was walking towards him. The scene played out for him in slow motion, frame by frame. He looked up ahead past Hugo who was oblivious to what was before them and saw the source of the bilious thoughts, Salazar Malvado, wand drawn out and muttering a curse intended for his son.
Before he could react Hugo was floating, his extremities being pulled in opposing directions, his agonizing scream drowned by applause. Muggles close by noticed; many thought it was part of the act. In one motion Harry had his weapon out and blasted the Dark Wizard off his feet, sending him soaring up and back, disappearing in the mass of people behind.
The strike broke the spell and Harry broke Hugo's fall in time. He quickly surveyed their perimeter. Quite a few locals, realizing that something was amiss, were running around, obstructing his view of where Malvado landed. Right near the exits policemen were battling against the sea of humanity in a mad rush for the doors, their guns pointed in the air, yelling at him to put his hands up. Harry disarmed and Petrified them, and then emptied their weapons, firing successive shots into the roof. Full blown chaos followed, Harry's very intention, to clear the tent of civilians. Malvado would attack again.
He got to Hugo just as the teenager was attempting to get up, his wand ready.
"Where did he go?!" his son asked with every intention to fight.
Harry told him, preferring to take him to safety first, and he had this very small window of opportunity to do that, "We have to leave!"
"No!"
"We are not going to argue about this!"
"So let's not!"
"This is not the place or time!"
A flash of a green death curse was headed their way. Harry took Hugo by his collar and moved him out of its path, the curse missing his son by an inch. The wave of the spell smashed through the pillar behind them and sent the hundred foot elevated stage to its side and onto the ground, crushing everything under it. Dust billowed around them as the curse curved back like a boomerang and headed straight for Hugo. Harry redirected it, sending it back to its origin.
Malvado did not even bother blocking the spell. He absorbed the killing curse and attacked again, this time with a succession of high voltage electrical discharges. Harry conjured a shield to hold the incoming assault while Hugo counter attacked with Stunners. The last two stung Malvado somewhat, giving Harry the opening he needed. Figuring that if a killing curse couldn't hurt the dark wizard, offensive spells would be useless, Harry transformed the energies from Malvado's electrical onslaught into a spherical restraining field, encasing the Dark Wizard. Being caged made Malvado angrier.
"There is not a prison that can hold me!"
Harry and Hugo watched as he walked through the visible bars and got zapped, convulsing from the extreme currents that coursed through his body. His robes then burst into flames, his figure burning into this huge ball of fire. When the flames finally died out, a charred Malvado was still standing. He shook off his just acquired charcoal gray exterior and gained new skin and clothes.
Interesting...
Malvado ran his free hand through his singed hair and came away with a handful pissed.
"I hate being bald!"
The Dark Wizard fired. Harry easily blocked it and was about to go on his own offensive when he tasted the bitter dark emotion again. Prepared to counter, he was caught off guard that the curse came from an unexpected wizard.
"Avada K-k-ked-"
Yellow light shot out of Hugo's weapon even without completing the incantation. It found Malvado's chest.
"K-k-ked? You'd have to do better than that, boy!" Malvado howled, mocking Hugo.
Hugo was shaking, pale, eyes transfixed and wand still pointed at Malvado. Stunned himself, Harry was at a loss about what to say. He was conflicted; does he rebuke or does he encourage his son for his first attempted murder? Both seemed inappropriate even if it was to kill a dark wizard.
"Let me show you how it's done," the Dark Wizard boasted.
A prepared Harry deflected it easily, finally earning Malvado's attention.
"Potter, I have no quarrel with you."
"Too bad. I have a problem with you."
"Stay out of my business or I will kill you, too."
"If you know me well enough to know my name, seriously, asshole, do you think your threat will work?"
In general, assholes didn't like being called assholes. Malvado was no exception. Their foe sent a barrage of strikes. He shielded Hugo and countered but was now mainly concerned about the teenager being hit by crossfire. Hugo still seemed listless from what just happened and wasn't himself.
It was obvious that Malvado was invincible just as Warren had claimed he was. Harry needed to think more about how to defeat this particular opponent. Not counting Voldemort, he had not encountered anyone like Malvado before. He could only hope Horcruxes or Hallows or something similar to them were involved, something that made Malvado impervious to injury that he could eliminate to make the Dark wizard mortal. He would rather think that was the case for the alternative was somewhat unimaginable. The Hag mentioned the book. She said Hugo likely knew where the book was.
More wandfire headed their way and Harry parried off each and every one of them. He mapped out an escape as he and Malvado duelled. Then someone yelled from the entrance of the tent.
"Nobody move!"
It was the South Asian Magical Police, about two dozen of them. Half the wands were aimed at Malvado and half on them.
"Arrest them all!"
Malvado cackled. Harry sensed trouble. Suggestive spells soaked the air and there was confusion within the ranks of the SAMP.
"I would duck if I were you," Malvado suggested.
Harry felt the first wave of hexes and dove, taking Hugo down with him. Curses flew as SAMP duelled against SAMP, most shooting at them and some trying to stop the other. Through the chaos Harry saw Malvado walk out of the tent uncontested. He calmly assessed their options. They could stay and deal with the SAMP arresting them, or they could fight their way out.
Over in the corner unseen by the others he saw a figure waving at them like a madman. It was the ringmaster ushering them over to where he was. Two-thirds of his body was below a trap door leading somewhere underground.
He quickly decided, directing Hugo towards the exit. His son went in first. He followed, closing the door after him.
"Come! Quick!" the dwarf beckoned them, "No talking!"
They were in a man-made tunnel, tight, able to fit two people standing upright but just barely. Their guide had a flashlight in his hand and started running away. He and Hugo lit their wands and followed him.
XXXXXXXXXX
Finnigan's, Diagon Alley
Neville clutched his wand in his pocket tightly, his heart going crazy. He followed Ernie into a somewhat crowded Finnigan's and looked over towards the bar, finding Seamus there with his barkeeper.
"Hey Seamus," Ernie greeted sombrely after Seamus got off the phone.
"What will you gents have?" Seamus asked.
He eyed both of them with worry as they remained on their feet and didn't answer.
"We need to talk," Ernie spoke up for them, for Neville couldn't trust himself to not burst out with accusations, "in private."
Seamus understood but was seemingly acting normally, at least normal for someone who had hexed him. Parv had unlocked the memory of what happened earlier that day at Hogwarts. It was Seamus who cursed him then took the Snitch. Neville was certain about that but Hannah proposed that it could have been someone who looked like or was pretending to be Seamus. The only way to find out was to confront him so Neville called Ernie to help him sort it out.
Their friend motioned them around and to the back into the busy Finnigan kitchen. On their way through the crowd Neville overheard patrons discussing the headlines of the afternoon Prophet. On the one hand he was ecstatic that Hermione was alive but he wished she stuck around to answer all the questions. The train of thought got pushed aside as Seamus met them at the swinging doors, led them to his office and closed the door behind them.
The strategy they had decided on was to accuse first then apologize, if they had to, later. Taking his cue from Ernie, Neville pulled his wand out from his pocket and aimed it at Seamus as the other turned to face them. Unexpectedly, Seamus too had his wand out. It was pointed straight at Ernie.
"Drop it Seamus!" Neville shot him a warning, his weapon shaking in his hand.
"You're getting this all wrong," Seamus replied calmly, unflinching, his eyes remaining on Ernie as he did.
"You took the Snitch!" Neville accused.
"I didn't. You did. The Snitch isn't yours."
Seamus had a good point but it was somewhat insulting that he never looked Neville's way. The Hogwarts professor was so tempted to curse him, if only to prove to Seamus that he was capable of hexing him just as Ernie was.
"And it's yours?" Ernie challenged and when no answer came, continued, "Where is it, Seamus? In your safe?"
The bar owner's gaze flitted to a painting of the St. Petersburg Hermitage Museum on the wall behind Ernie and it drew their attention. Then, a sudden explosion nearby made Neville reflexively crouch down. The room was thrown into darkness.
"Don't let him leave!" Ernie screamed.
Fuelled by adrenaline Neville sprang from his feet and jumped the silhouette at the door, sending them both to the floor with a loud thud.
Ernie bellowed, "Get off me!"
"Sorry," he apologized for the mistake.
Neville picked himself up. Light filled the office as the office door creaked ajar. The split second distraction was all Seamus needed. The hidden safe behind the picture was wide open. It was empty and Seamus was gone.
XXXXXXXX
Underground, near Luneta Park
After minutes of running through twists and turns the dwarf led them up some wooden rickety steps and out an old door. They stench of horse dung was unmistakable; they were in an abandoned stable. Their guide just about shoved them out onto the empty cobblestone street. They were in some tourist site shut down for the day.
"You can use magic travel from here," they were informed.
"Thank you. What is your name?" Harry asked.
The dwarf snapped at him, "Not important. Tell Gates to leave me alone. We're even."
Harry thought that was abrupt. They thanked their reluctant rescuer anyway as he disappeared back into the tunnel.
Harry looked at Hugo and asked, "Are you okay?"
His son nodded.
"We're going back to Grimmauld."
There were no arguments for once. Harry created a Portkey from a soda bottle and as soon as Hugo's hand wrapped around its neck, he activated it. Seconds later they were inside Grimmauld. Hugo let go of the Portkey and went up to stairs to see his mother.
Harry was not far behind, though hampered somewhat as the absence of adrenaline made his injury scream for attention. When he got there a restless Hermione was being restrained to her bed. He watched as Hugo sat beside her and held her hand, his touch calming his mother somewhat. He joined Jessie on the other side of the bed.
Jessie told him even before he asked, "High fever. Can't make sense of it. Had to tie her down so she wouldn't hurt herself. She needs a proper Healer. You need to decide."
He acknowledged but couldn't do that just yet. Tears were running down Hugo's cheeks as he tried to soothe his Mum. It was very hard to see her and Hugo this way, more so because he felt like an outsider and there was not much he could do.
"Harry...Harry.."
Her calling out his name only pulled at his heartstrings even more. She sounded like she was in pain, a cry for help which he wanted to answer desperately.
Jessie cleared her throat, "It's just her fever talking."
Harry didn't care. He was by her side gripping her other hand, noticing how hot it was.
"I'm here," he said to her.
He felt Hugo leave. Jessie followed the teenager out of the room leaving Hermione with him. Yes, he had so much to do but he needed this moment with her. He felt so drained, so tired, and while it had been a long while since, being with her always gave him strength and purpose in whatever he did. She didn't have to say anything. Her being there for him was always enough.
With his free hand he gently brushed her brown locks off her face. Tears pooled in his eyes as he remembered the last time he touched her this way and the years of wanting to do it but not being able to. Being this close brought back many emotions and many memories, stuff he had not thought about in a very long time.
He began talking.
"Hey. It's me. I'm not really sure if you can hear me but it's been a while since we really talked and I'm not sure if I'll ever get another chance to say this to you. I've met Hugo, well, I've known him since he was a baby but, you know what I mean. He's a good kid. I'm getting to know him better. We've had some challenging moments as you can imagine, and I think because he is so like me in many ways," he paused as an image of what her reaction could have been came to mind and he couldn't help but chuckle, "Yeah, I know, it's about time I had a dose of what a pain I can be so wipe that smirk off you face."
Taking a deep breath in and out, he continued, his voice soft, quivering from trying to control the flood of emotions dying to burst from within and his tears brimming over as he spoke straight from his heart, "What I really want to say is I understand why you didn't tell me, I understand why you thought it was the right thing to do. But dammit Hermione. He's my son. And I know you didn't want to be the other woman and you didn't want Hugo to grow up like your sister but I can't help but think how things could have been so different had you just told me. I love you. I barely lived past letting you go and you know it would have taken so little for me to come back. He is our son - our son. Even as I say it now it brings so much joy in me, so unimaginable that I still can't believe it's true. Nothing would have kept me away. I would have made it okay and it kills me that you didn't trust me enough to know that I would. And considering what I put you through I only have myself to blame. I understand. I can't blame you for not wanting me back."
He clasped her hand with both of his and pulled it gently closer to him, closing his eyes, his shoulders shaking as he broke down. Saying it out loud was much tougher that he imagined it would be. In the past, with Hermione, words weren't as important. Much would have remained unsaid.
Harry didn't know for how long but he finally stopped sobbing, still raw but spent. Noticing how much cooler she was he looked up at her and as he did, her eyes slowly fluttered open. There were fresh tears on her face. She must have heard. Seeing her anguish tore him apart.
They gazed at each other lovingly, holding hands, grieving their loss, weeping quietly.
XXXXXXXXXX
A/N. I know. Cruel and evil.
It wasn't the HHr scene I had imagined for more than a year but it is what came out with blood, sweat and tears (well, the last one anyway - must remember to bring Kleenex on the subway ride). A few have been suggesting that I should write more Harry POV. Personally I think he is being silly to think that Hermione didn't want him back.
Ginny - tragic to be married to someone you know loves someone else but I know many would think she got what she deserved. The sane thing to do would be to leave though letting go is easier said than done.
Hugo - I tried writing him to actually do the killing curse - it just didn't feel right.
Kudos to those who have been guessing the twists and turns correctly.
As a final note for this chapter I wish to thank all of you who have been very patient with me in the past month. If not for your interest and support I would not be writing.