A/N. I hope you still remember the story and don't completely hate me. It's been a stressful time with RL stuff and the muse keeps fleeting in and out of my life. Much thanks to the reviews and encouragement.
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Chapter 61 - Timeteller Troubles
Harry sifted through the mist of the non-living who responded to the call of the Resurrection Stone. There were many, most of them angry, most of them wronged, and there would be no shortage of information from those who were seeking justice. But while it was important to give those victimized the resolution they had come for, it was vital to remain focussed on the goal of finding out what kind of being they were dealing with. He had enlisted his most trusted Aurors to assist in the interrogation.
His name is Hector Llamas.
I knew his family, politicians, the entire lot. His grandfather was Minister of Magic of Peru, lived a long time that one, much longer than one would expect even a pureblood wizard to live. Hector was a senator in the Muggle government.
I was stupid and foolish. I took the stone at his deathbed, he said so I could live as long as he had and even longer if I chose to. Once he took over my body, he got rid of me.
Nobody knows exactly how they met. Malvado must have known Llamas' grandfather and their paths have criss-crossed many times in history. Theirs had always been a mutually benefitting one. Malvado was chaos to Llamas' order. They enabled the other to succeed and remain in the world of the living, recognizing that it's big enough for both of them.
I was there when Llamas spoke with Gaunt in February 2003. Gaunt was on the run then and hiding out in St. Petersburg. It was Llamas who told him about the rest of the Hallows. Llamas offered him use of the invincibility stone, told him it was the only way he could acquire what was rightfully his.
You have to understand, they choose the essences they acquire. Each stone transfer into another living being is an act of violence, an attack with the intention to occupy, to take over and to steal. Imagine two beings fighting over the use of one body. With Gaunt, Llamas took on a powerful wizard to become more powerful at the risk of losing himself. He almost did and in the internal struggle they both got sent to the other realm. But Llamas found a way back and his risk has paid off big time.
Harry found him. Gaunt was observing the proceedings with amusement, the haughty display enough to remind Harry of what Gaunt had cost him and Hermione. It took a while but he did regain composure, knowing that there was nothing he could do to change what happened, much less avenge their loss.
"Potter," Gaunt greeted with a smug grin as Harry approached, "Thank you for giving me a break from the mundane. This is entertaining, to say the least. I see you're still as stupid as you've always been."
"What makes you say that?"
"None of these fools can help you get rid of the Invincibles."
Actually, they already gave him a couple of options but he hoped Gaunt would confirm. Harry decided to play along.
"I suppose you know."
"Of course, I do. But I am not inclined to help you."
"That's too bad. You came all this way to gloat about how smart you are and can't prove it," Harry pointed out. Gaunt was obviously annoyed at his remark. Harry pressed on, "It is a pain being dead, powerless to stop the being who stole your talent from using it for personal gain. Tell me something. How could you, with your unusual mental capabilities, get hoodwinked into taking the stone? Didn't see it coming?"
Gaunt responded, quite worked up, "I did. And for a while I had Llamas exactly where I wanted him. If not for Granger, I would be here in this world, living free and certainly not wasting my time in the Ministry lock-up like he is."
"I'm sure you would have fared better," Harry replied, getting the confirmation he wanted.
He broke eye contact to walk away. Gaunt quickly tried to regain his attention.
"The solution is obvious," Gaunt called out.
"It is?"
"And Granger should realise it by now. There is no other way. The Hallows have to unite," Gaunt opened up eagerly, perhaps taking the opportunity to prove he knew what he was talking about and maybe do the little that he could to exact revenge, "Death's Master is not bound by the contracts Death enters into. The Invincibility Stones will be no match for the Hallows provided they are wielded by a skilled master. Llamas should be easy."
"And Malvado?"
"Malvado is a different being of sorts."
"How so?"
Gaunt explained, "Years ago, he approached me with a proposition. He said he could take me with him on his next trip back to the world of the living. Having been burned by an Invincible before I graciously declined. But rumour has it that he made a couple of interesting alliances and that when he escaped, he travelled with so much excess baggage he collapsed the portal and almost didn't make it through."
The dead wizard paused for effect, studying Harry's face, hoping to read his mind.
"You're not afraid," Gaunt stated a fact, "You should be. I can't imagine any truce between him and the two greatest wizards of all time lasting this long."
"I thought I retired your Uncle for good."
"There isn't much to do in the afterlife except suffer for all of eternity. He's bored."
"And Grindelwald?"
"He's bored too. Most of us are."
Gaunt left him with more food for thought.
"Whoever Malvado is now he possesses an unlimited arsenal of dark power never known to exist within a singular being before. Even the Master of Death would find it near impossible to beat someone like that, especially someone that powerful protected by an invincibility stone."
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Marco rejoined them in their mini-huddle.
"There are eleven participants," he told Al, "You're 7th, I made sure you got a spot in between two really lousy ones."
"So no one would listen?" Al asked, nervous about speaking up in front of the local crowd.
Tomas corrected him, "No, it's so you'll sound way much better than the rest."
"Or not seem as bad as you are," Juan couldn't stop chuckling.
Al blushed. He had been working with Tomas and Juan and things weren't going well.
"He's not bad. He just needs practise," Tomas defended him. "And we need to tweak the words a bit."
"Leave it the way it is," Juan replied, "At least he'll be very amusing when he gets up on the stage to perform."
"Juan is right," Al said, his confidence wavering, "Maybe I should just withdraw."
"What are you guys talking about?" Marco asked, "Show me what you have so far."
"Watch this," Juan was primed to laugh again.
Al began speaking, having no problem saying the foreign words from memory but not knowing the exact meaning he sounded like a broken robot.
And there was another thing. Every time he got to this certain passage his wand lit up on its own. Juan couldn't help it anymore. He was doubled up, tears streaming down his face. Even Tomas was no longer immune but a poker face Marco commented.
"Which word is it?"
"Lumos," Tomas told Marco what was setting his wand off, "Can't find another way to say 'he's drowning in the depth of her beauty'."
"I'm hopeless," Al declared.
Marco had an idea. "Forget English completely. Say it as you hear it, not as you read it. Try 'lost' instead of 'drowning'."
Marco gave him the word for lost and Al changed it on the paper before him, repeating what he just heard. That was much better.
Juan pointed out, "Try not to sound like an American."
"I'm British," he snapped, insulted.
Juan shrugged, really not knowing, "Is there a difference?"
"Excuse his ignorance," Tomas apologized for Juan, "He cut Geography class a lot."
"Sound less like one," Marco encouraged him, "And more practice. You've got a couple of hours. You'll be just fine."
"Yeah, we've got lots of time. You can do this," Tomas assured him.
He sighed. An announcement that dinner was ready interrupted them. He instantly noticed that Isa had gotten up with the rest of the girls and were heading for the buffet tables.
"Here's your chance!" Marco nudged him.
"What?"
"Your chance to get a better seat."
He followed Marco and the other boys towards the food. Marco told him exactly what to do. They finally got up to the line where the girls were and, with the help of some very good diversionary maneuvers by his new friends, he found his way right behind Isa. Then he panicked. How was he supposed to practise if he was going to sit with her during dinner?
She turned and he wasn't quite prepared to see her looking at him this close.
"Hi," she greeted first as he scrambled to find his voice.
"Hi."
Merlin, here I go again.
She was about to turn around to find the other girls. Hastily, Al took a couple of gulps and mustered up the courage to strike a conversation.
"How did you know?"
"I'm sorry?" she asked, puzzled, her hazel eyes boring deep into him; he was melting.
"Er, um, who I was. How did you know?"
"Hugo told me he had an older brother who looks like him. You look like him. I took a 'wild guess'."
She smiled, the way she said 'wild guess' was a joke. He laughed, loud, too loud. She blushed.
"It wasn't that funny but thanks."
Isa laughed lightly, embarrassed. He did too as he apologized. By then, he could feel his heart in his throat.
"I'm glad we're finally eating," Isa said to him privately, handing him a paper plate. She smelled of something wonderful as she leaned closer, "I'm kind of famished."
"Yeah. Me too," he replied, trying to steady his breathing.
He wasn't paying much attention to what he was doing, following mostly Isa's lead, mindlessly moving food. A skewer of something, thin noodles, vegetables, rice cake, then a couple of spoonfuls of some kind of meat cooked in a dark curd-like sauce. Isa noticed.
"You're either brave or really hungry. Most non-locals stay away from human entrails cooked in blood."
Al stopped, quite concerned about having to eat this in front of her just to save face. Just the thought of it made him nauseous.
Isa hurriedly took back what she said, "It's a joke. I'm kidding. It's animal meat. The hosts wouldn't serve us humans with humans."
"Of course they wouldn't," he replied a bit relieved though looking at it again he wasn't sure.
Their eyes met and she must have read his mind. His doubt rubbed off on her.
"On the other hand," she said to him as she checked around, "Cover me."
She took both their plates and emptied that portion surreptitiously, hiding the evidence under and behind the overhanging table cloth. They moved forward quickly, had a laugh about that one and then continued down the line, picking 'safe' food from the buffet. Al remembered something.
He held out a hand and said to her, "Let me help you."
She frowned and enquired, "Why?"
He didn't expect the question and had no sensible answer.
"It must be um - heavy."
Isa lifted the plate in her hand without effort and politely turned him down, "I think I can handle this one."
Once again, proof to her that he was a moron. She excused herself when Hugo and Spencer came and whisked her away, with perhaps his chance of ever redeeming himself.
"It figures," Rosie said knowingly, with amusement in her voice as she reached for a piece of roasted chicken in front of him.
Al groaned internally, realizing his cousin had been behind them all along and heard the entire thing as it unravelled. Al prepared himself for the worst.
"What?"
"That you'd be just like Uncle Harry."
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
"His very first serious crush was on an Asian girl with long black hair. It must be a Potter thing," she concluded.
Al didn't know this about his Dad and it was kind of surprising. He always thought that his parents were school sweethearts and assumed they were each others' firsts.
"How do you know this?"
Rosie shrugged, "Girl talk. She was a Ravenclaw Seeker back during our parents' time."
Al knew who she was referring to.
"Cho Chang?"
"That's the one. I must say this is a relief. I was really starting to worry about you. Isa is nice. I approve."
"I wasn't looking for your approval."
"Of course not. I approve anyway. I am slighted though that you're not asking for advice. Do you honestly trust these local boys to know how to woo a girl? They can't even do it for themselves."
They both observed his new friends stumble in their own attempts at getting girls to talk to them. One of them just got slapped. Rosie was right. He really didn't know if Marco, Tomas and Juan knew what they were talking about.
Rosie continued, "I am insulted, yes, but willing to forgive you. As amusing as it is it's so painful to watch my own flesh and blood strike out twice in a matter of hours."
Al swallowed his pride and gave in, "I could use a different perspective."
"You know I know what I'll be talking about."
"I am desperate here. If you're waiting for me to grovel this is me grovelling," he said though his tone was more matter-of-fact than begging.
"It's simple really. Just be yourself."
Hugo sighed in exasperation, saying, "And I thought you were going to help."
But Rosie wasn't pulling his leg.
"If you're serious about this girl then you'd want to let her see the real you because she'll find out sooner or later who you really are. This way if she doesn't like the real you then you know right away that it won't ever work out.
"On the other hand if you just want a quickie one night thingy, and there's nothing wrong with that if that's what you want, then by all means, impress her with whatever you think will get you what you want the quickest."
She had a good point.
"It's scary how that brilliant insight actually came from you."
"Watch it, I can still hurt you," she threatened, finger pointed.
"Thanks," Al said earnestly, feeling much better about it all, knowing now what to do
"You're welcome. It's all about me, really. I wouldn't be able to stand the depressing look on your face when you lose your chance with her. Then I'd have to listen to you cry 'where oh where did I go wrong?!"
"Okay. I get it. I'll try my best not to screw this up."
"You better not screw this up. I'm rooting for you. And I'm so proud! " she put her plate down, grabbed him dramatically by the shoulders and hugged him, "My cousin, Al, finally has a crush! He's all grown up now! I think I'm gonna cry!"
"Funny," he commented on her histrionics dryly, looking around and hoping nobody was witnessing this.
She laughed and made her way back to the other girls but not before making a mischievous parting comment, "I just thought I'd let you know; Cho Chang was not only Uncle Harry's first crush, she was also his first kiss."
Really?
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"Auror Lupin," the Head Auror's assistant interrupted him as he paced across the span of the sitting room, "If you must do that please do so in the corridor. You are driving me spare."
Ted sat down, his legs and hands fidgeting. He had been waiting for fifteen minutes and hanging on to the information for more than a couple of hours before that. He had gone to Shell Cottage to see Tory and had spent some time there making sure security was as it should be but if he had to wait any longer to tell Harry what happened when he followed Gummy earlier he would explode.
The door to the Head Auror's office swung open and the Chief Warlock, Tiberius Tudor, was the first one out. He was immediately followed by the Wizengamot appointed Interim MoM.
"Harry," Tiberius Tudor shook his hand, "As much as many of us at the Wizengamot are quite comfortable having you at the helm for a longer time I understand your desire to hand over these new responsibilities quickly. I will do my best to get the process underway sooner."
"My family and I would greatly appreciate it," Harry replied, then turned to Leila Gennaro who had quill and parchment in hand, poised for orders, "Leila. Rescind all of Humptail's appointments. Tell them to talk to me if they have a problem. Send out owls to Leo's last heads of offices, with an invitation to re-assume their past positions. I wish to meet with them in an hour."
"You should address the public," Tudor suggested.
Harry's reluctance was evident, "I'm only Interim Minister because the Wizengamot reversed my termination."
"Unanimously," Tudor reminded him, "Trussell should have never been appointed Head Auror. There is much uncertainty out there. You need to stabilize the situation, to restore the people's faith in the Ministry and to regain their trust in the Wizengamot. You have to address the public if only to calm them down."
That swayed Harry's earlier decision. He instructed Leila to set something up with Leo's press and public relations secretary for sometime after his emergency cabinet meeting. The Chief Warlock excused himself, saying something about having his work cut out for him, nodding at Ted on his way out.
Leila said, "A few important people have asked for an audience. Should I schedule them?"
Harry looked at her list and gave them back to her.
"They can save the ass-kissing for the next Minister," he said to her, and when her brows raised, rephrased, "I would be delighted to meet with them once the Ministry addresses the current threat from Salazar Malvado."
"Much better," Gennaro scribbled what he said, then relayed another message, "Auror Weasley says he needs to speak with you right away. He's in Unspeakable Boots' lab."
"I'll give him a call. Is there anything else?"
Ted thought she had forgotten about him. He cleared his throat to draw their attention.
"Auror Lupin has been here pacing for a long time," her tone was somewhat short-tempered., "if you don't see him now I may have to put new carpeting in."
Harry motioned him to enter the office. His assistant's disapproving scrutiny made Ted more nervous that he knocked over a magazine rack on his way into Harry's office and a cascade of periodicals spilled on the floor.
"Go," she instructed him as he made an effort to gather them up, "I'll take care of this."
Ted went into the Head Auror office and didn't even wait for Harry to speak. He burst out with information the second Harry closed the door.
"I met the rest of the POTH!"
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Al went on to grab himself a drink, thinking about the prospect of him achieving the same thing with Isa. He had not even thought past getting her to have a real conversation with him but now that Rosie mentioned it, he couldn't help picturing them snogging and thinking just how amazing that would feel. No, he wouldn't rush. Isa was not the type of girl one would rush and it wouldn't be the way he imagined his first would be.
His thoughts preoccupied he turned to go back to his seat when he saw someone right in front of him. He put the brakes on and stopped himself from crashing into the other person. The other person had stopped in time too and their near collision almost cost him his dinner. His drink wasn't so lucky though.
"I'm so sorry!" Isa apologized, quite upset about causing the near accident, "I shouldn't have followed too closely!"
"It's quite all right," he quickly dismissed, shaking off his right shoe to get rid of the spilt melon juice, "I was thinking about - um - I was a bit distracted too. No harm done."
"Let me get you another drink," she offered and took two cups of the fruit drink but didn't give one to him. She asked instead, "Where are you sitting?"
He assumed she wanted to bring it over to his table. He looked and saw that his seat was occupied.
"I think I've just lost my spot. Anywhere I guess."
It was an eternity before Isa ended his torment.
"There's room at our table."
His move, he figured.
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not."
He followed her, trying so hard not to break out into a wide grin. Rosie gave him a wink when he passed by her. His step had more of a bounce to it until they got closer to her table and he was welcomed by not so warm reactions from Hugo and Spencer.
"I invited Albus," Isa said his name perfectly, choosing to ignore how icy things just got, "He lost his seat."
Isa sat beside Hugo, handing Al his drink as she did. Al took the empty seat across his brother, who hadn't acknowledged his presence at all. What Al did see was the questioning look he gave Isa. This was followed by a barely audible reply from her which sounded something like, "He's your brother."
"Isa is a bleeding heart," Spencer, who was on his right, commented, "She always picks up strays."
Al was sure it was meant to insult.
Isa glossed it over, "Spencer knows this because he is one."
Hugo shook off Spencer as the latter was poised to retort. Both boys went back to eating, talking about Malvado as they did.
Isa asked him what he thought of Pag-asa. They talked about the beings in the village, about how interesting the half bodied ones were and about how different yet similar many of them were compared to the ones he grew up with. Isa, he found out, was brought up in a mostly Muggle environment and up until recently, she always thought that stories about magical beings were mere tall tales meant to scare kids.
Al found it surprisingly easy to talk with her. As they ate he found out more about who she was, quite happy that Hugo and Spencer seemed to be engrossed in a conversation of their own Although her parents were both Pureblood, her Mum was a Squib too. She didn't explicitly say it but Al gathered her father was not in the picture. Her mother remarried a Muggle, but when the Integrated school for magicals and non-magicals opened, she told Isa about magic and gave her the opportunity to see if the school was something she'd like or not.
Isa had not planned on staying, particularly after the wand thing didn't do much for her, but then she fell in love with the science and gadgetry side of things. She viewed magic as energy that could be shaped and moulded and that field of study was virtually new. That was what made her stay and he could tell from how she talked about it that it was her passion.
"What about you?" she asked and when he didn't answer right away she put him on the spot, "You have me talking on and on. You haven't said anything about yourself."
"There's nothing interesting about me," Al heard himself answer.
"You're humble if not totally self deprecating. For a guy with famous parents I think that's interesting," she said, speaking her mind that it took him off guard, "What does a girl have to do to get you to talk?"
He blushed and caved, "James is the brawn, the popular jock, captain of the Quidditch team. My sister, Lily, is the brain, always top of her class. I'm average, okay, maybe above average."
"What do you like to do, when you're not running off without your parents' knowledge to some remote part of the world, teaching beings how to use magic?"
Al shrugged, "Hang out, read."
"What do you read?"
"You're going to laugh," Al said, stabbing at something on his plate, beginning to regret leading her to their current topic.
"As long as you're not into romance fiction -," she stopped abruptly, checking herself, "I'm sorry but you're not into romance novels, are you?"
He had to smile at her concern about offending him, "No, not that. History, psychology, sociology, philosophy, really boring stuff."
"I don't think those are boring," she tried to make him feel better.
"When was the last time you picked up Friedrich Nietzsche and read him cover to cover in one sitting?"
Isa frowned, probably wondering if he was telling the truth or not.
"Okay, if you've done that then you're strange and unlike any other teenager I know-" she conceded, quickly adding, "-but in a good way - I hope," her uncertainly made him laugh, "I heard you're some sort of school monitor?"
She heard?
"A prefect."
"And you were chosen for that. Your teachers must see something in you they don't see in others."
"I was chosen by process of elimination. I'm one of the few students who don't break school rules."
"Why not?"
"Never had reason to," he answered truthfully.
"Really? No staying out and wandering the hallways after lights out, meeting up with friends or girlfriends?"
"Nope," Al noted her curiosity and felt amazing that she asked, "You?"
"My friends are a bad influence."
Spencer overheard and objected, "Whoa! That is a flat out lie. She was the one who planned our educational leave of absence from the IMAN to help Hugo escape from your Dad's house."
"That was out of necessity," Isa defended herself. "You do it for sport."
Spencer proclaimed, "And I still have the best record in the entire school - thirty consecutive undetected qualified acts of mischief. I am king!"
"See what I have to deal with?" Isa rolled her eyes in exasperation, "All right, King. Help me grab desserts."
Isa got up and Al got up too.
"I'll come with you," he said to her.
Spencer seemed fine with Al's offer, "Yeah, I can stay-"
"No, really, Spencer can help me," she insisted, grabbing Spencer by the arm with a death grip he winced, "You just sit here with Hugo. We'll be right back."
With Isa and Spencer gone things got quiet immediately. There was some commotion at the stage as the locals were about to start the show. That distracted both of them for a bit. Al couldn't take the silence anymore.
"Did you want to tell me something?" Al asked.
"No," Hugo replied, "You?"
"No."
There was an awkward pause again then Hugo spoke, "There is something. Thanks for not letting Rosie leave the Pitch on her own."
"I didn't do it for you."
"No, of course not. You wouldn't be caught dead doing something like that."
"That's not what I meant."
But Hugo wasn't hearing him and it was obvious in the caustic reply he got, "You don't have to talk to me. We may be half-brothers but we don't have to be friends."
Al wanted to reach out but his pride kept him from doing so. He felt a weight pulling him back, seeing his face on his brother or more accurately, his father's face. Hugo looked more like his Dad than he did and there was something very unsettling about that. Did Hugo think that he was better than them, that he was more their father's son because they looked more alike?
"What are you gawking at?" Hugo suddenly burst out angrily.
"I wasn't gawking!" Al denied.
Isa and Spencer happened to come back at that very moment.
She asked, "What's going on?"
Hugo confronted him, "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's impolite to stare?!"
The accusation incensed Al instantly. He just snapped.
"Actually she did! She also taught me not to lie and not to steal, which is way much more than what I can say about your mother!" he insulted Hugo back.
"Are you calling my mother a thief?!"
"And a liar!"
Both were on their feet. Spencer was ready to hit him for Hugo. Isa was the intervening calming voice.
"Put your wands away!" she ordered them both, "I'm sure your mothers wouldn't approve if you got into a fight because of them!"
Al backed down first, already feeling bad about saying his thoughts out loud. Aunt Hermione, looking back, had never been anything but good to him. She didn't deserve to be called that, even if a part of him believed it to be true.
His brother, he could tell, still wasn't quite ready to let go of what he said. Isa seemed to know just what to say. Al didn't hear it but whatever it was Hugo calmed down, enough to even apologize.
"I'm sorry," his brother mumbled, perhaps not very sincere but at least he did.
"I'm sorry, too," Al replied.
"Just don't stare."
He wasn't but really, it wasn't worth another argument.
"Got it."
Hugo left their table. Spencer followed him. Al figured Isa would want to follow him too.
"You should go," Al said to her.
Isa ignored his suggestion.
"He didn't mean to insult your mother," she explained.
"I shouldn't be saying this because he's your friend but he acts as if he's better than me because he looks more like Dad."
"You misunderstand. He doesn't like the way he looks. He's still trying to get used to people comparing him to your father. You know how annoying that is, right?" Isa enlightened him, "And he's pretty sure all of you hate him for being who he is."
"That's rubbish! We don't hate him," Al quickly dismissed.
"So I keep telling him but he doesn't believe me. He needs to hear it from you. He needs to hear it from your brother and from your sister."
XXXXXXXXXX
Harry thanked Ted for the information and asked him to remain at Shell Cottage. From Ted's sdescription of the events it was evident that Hermione allowed Ted to follow them and to listen in. She must have suspected too that complete Obliviation of a Metamorph would be tricky when the events to be wiped off were acquired in different physical states. It was reassuring to know that even though she couldn't tell him herself because of the POTH-related vows she took, she did find a way to get him the information.
He barely had time to process what Ted had uncovered when an anxious Ron barged into his office and shut the door behind him. Ron's timeteller was giving off a high pitched alarm.
"Blasted timeteller!" Ron cursed, turned it off then faced him, "We need to talk about Hermione!"
"Now?!"
"Oh yes! Definitely now!"
Ron's bad timing was intensely irritating. And so was his timeteller. It went off again.
"Can you not take care of that?!"
"That's what I'm trying to do! It won't stop reminding me until I actually do what I've set it to remind me to do! I should have known Hermione would get me a watch that would be so bloody persistent!"
"You set a reminder for us to talk about Hermione?" Harry asked in disbelief, "Since when did you become so organised?"
"I didn't set it for that!" Ron screamed over the noise, now unable to shut it off, "It's been three days!"
"What - ?"
"It's been three days!" Ron repeated, glaring at him
Harry realised what Ron was telling him. It had been three days since he gave Ron Hermione's letter.
He put his wands on top of his desk and walked up to where Ron stood. Since Ron's verbal attack on Hermione Harry had wanted to tell him one thing. He figured he should say it now in case he wouldn't be able to later.
Harry spoke quietly over Ron's ringing time teller, "I loved her too, Ron. I'm sorry about Ginny but what Hermione and I did had nothing to do with you. And when it was over we couldn't tell you for the obvious reasons. It wasn't Hermione's fault. I knew that if I came to her she wouldn't refuse. I shouldn't have asked."
That was his one regret. Looking back now through a wiser set of eyes he would have done things differently. Hindsight was always 20/20.
Ron had tears in his eyes too, but his were of anger and frustration.
"Enough defending her already," he chastised him, "I know what happened, okay? Ginny, she told me. She told me everything. I know it wasn't Hermione's fault and right now I don't really care whose fault it was! But dammit Harry! For a guy who wouldn't hurt a bee you're certainly like an elephant in a Chinese grocery store!"
Ron always mixed up his Muggle sayings.
"I know."
He thought about his children. How he wished Lily would be okay and would talk to him. And he didn't know where to start making it up to Hugo.
The ringing from Ron's timeteller only grew louder by the second. While it didn't seem that Ron came to beat him up he couldn't be sure. What Ron was about to inflict would hurt but a fraction of what he was putting his children through and he deserved it. He braced himself, reminding himself not to duck.
"Okay, I'm ready. Do you worst."
Ron hesitated then growled, "I really hate you, do you know that?! Grab your wand and help me figure out how to shut this blasted thing off!"
XXXXXXXXXX
Hermione excused herself from the head table, thanking the village elders again for the hospitality and shelter they had extended to her and her family. She left them somewhat disappointed in her. The news of her being the former Mistress of Death buoyed many of them but, as what she had done during her meeting with the Being leaders, she gave them no unreasonable expectations about her current capabilities. As for Hugo, she made clear what she thought of the prophecy. One person, let alone a boy, would not save their world. All of them would have to fight the battle against Malvado.
She headed to where Warren and Gracie were seated with Maria. Their eyes were on Al on the stage. Hermione heard the tail end of his performance.
Isa, what a beautiful name!
Without you my life won't be the same.
You are the one, my first and my only.
My heart and my soul are yours, truly.
"Well done! Bravo!" Maria cheered loudly, her voice carrying over the applause. She said to them after, "Young love is such a wonderful thing."
"Young love sucks," Warren rebutted.
"But it's romantic and sweet," Gracie argued, "When else would you have the courage and conviction to compose a poem and spill your heart out like that in front of complete strangers?"
"My point exactly. That boy will regret this moment forever."
"All of us have made fools of ourselves in the past," Hermione joined in, "Admit it, to love carefree like that is exhilarating. You'll never feel that way ever again."
"Because it wasn't worth it the first time," Warren replied.
"No," she disagreed, "Because you're never quite the same person after that first."
"I wish I was everybody else's first," Maria sighed, "Nobody ever pined over me like that in my youth."
"Never had such luck either," Gracie concurred.
"You women are so delusional."
That made them all laugh.
"I guess I shouldn't be expecting anything like that from you."
"Right about that, honey," Warren answered Gracie.
Maria nudged her cousin, "Come on, Grace. We have to get ready. We're up soon."
"Oh, right," Gracie got up and whispered something in Warren's ear that made him smile.
They watched the two women as they made their way back stage. Warren had this smirk on his face. Their thoughts connected and she bit the bait.
I am not jealous.
I'm still choosing to believe you are.
You've always been an arrogant bastard. I like her, I really do. She's been good for you. You've been good for her.
She likes you, too.
Warren!
I am a man and I can only think like a man.
He was laughing and she could only shake her head.
You have to reassure her more. I don't think she fully understands us.
I tried but it's a woman thing. She knows it's something she'll just have to get over with.
The both disconnected. It was a bit of a surprise when Warren told her a few weeks ago that he was seeing Gracie. Warren saw other women before but this was his first attempt at a monogamous relationship since theirs. It was an adjustment for both of them.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.
"Yes. Thanks for doing this."
"Right," he thought she was being sarcastic, "I'm just waiting for what kind of pay back is in store for me."
"I'm not talking about the birthday thing."
"Of course, not."
"I'm talking about making the suggestion to have a village celebration. They needed this. The birthday singing you will have to pay for."
"I'm sure I will."
"And thanks."
"For what?"
"Coming back to save my life."
"Just don't do anything that crazy again. What were you thinking?"
"I obviously wasn't."
"Okay, what I did was borderline traitorous," he admitted, "Were you testing my loyalty?"
She had to laugh, "There are less lethal ways to do that, though you did pass that with flying colours."
"So, why did you stay that night?" he pressed on.
Hermione felt him probe her mind and she let him through, back to that night she decided to fight Malvado on her own. She explained.
He knows who I am, my name, where I live. He knows my children. He will not stop until he kills me and he kills Hugo. I can't hide from him.
And you thought you could just wing it?
I was hoping for a miracle.
You don't believe in prophecies but you believe in miracles.
There isn't much else to believe in. I no longer have the luxury of time. I don't have another year to figure him out.
Then get me the Hallows. You may have made the vow not to use them but I didn't. We can end this sooner.
Warren vented his frustration. When she didn't answer he made the conclusion.
You don't trust me.
Don't be ridiculous. I left Rosie and Hugo with you.
You don't trust me with the Hallows.
It's not a matter of trust.
But you trust Harry. You found a way around the POTH to lend him the stone. What happened there? Did you acquire a few allies to tip the power in your favour?
She left his questions unanswered.
You believe in the prophecy way too much. Harry would never put Hugo in any danger.
You just can't see it and neither will Harry. Not giving Hugo the Hallows puts him in more danger.
If he were yours you'd see it my way.
Warren heaved a long sigh.
Fine. What do I care? I'm just a regular prick. I shouldn't have to try too hard.
She took a look around his mind for any evidence that Malvado had been in touch with him. He answered her query.
"Haven't heard from him yet."
"By now he must know you're playing both sides," she said quite concerned, "You shouldn't report back when he summons you."
"What? And waste my perfect cover? Are you mad?" Warren reacted to her suggestion explosively, "I have him right where I want him."
"And where is this exactly? Where he knows you're definitely not useful to him and expendable?"
Hermione couldn't understand. The extent of Warren's mind games with Malvado was beyond her, in spite of her trying very hard to put herself in his shoes.
"No," he explained for the umpteenth time, "Now that you're alive he needs me to get to you and to Hugo more than ever. Failing to do so once will make him try again and he's cocky enough to think that he will succeed the next time. Then when he fails he'll try a third."
"You're sure that he'll give you three chances?"
"It's written."
She shook her head in exasperation at his fatalistic attitude.
"Then after?"
"I could die. But that's the beauty of it. We won't let it get to that. We'll get him before he kills me."
"I hate it when you get prophetic on me," she replied, "We haven't figured that getting-to-him part out, remember?"
"We will. Just hang in there."
"I still don't like the idea of you going back. I get that you can alter your destiny but Malvado can alter the course of our futures just as easily as we can alter his. What if he decides this one chance he gave you is enough? It's too great a risk."
"It's only one life. Compare that to the ones already lost and the ones who will die unless we send him back."
As hard as it was to admit, that made sense. Hermione was genuinely concerned. She had recently seen a remote memory of Warren's, one with the Hag while he trained with her eons ago. Warren downplayed it but she sensed he was completely sold on it.
"The Hag said you either betray me completely or you die. Just so I'm clear, I forbid you to die for me."
"Don't worry. I'm perfectly capable of bailing on you without you telling me. But if I don't and the Hag's prophecy does come true, think of it this way. Hugo is the one - no, don't argue. He is the one, and he needs you to be the one. He can't save wizardom unless you're there for him so I won't be dying for you, I'll be dying for a cause. In fact that's what I want on my tombstone - Here lies a complete arse whose last act was to die for a cause."
It would be useless to express her disagreement.
"If I outlive you that will definitely not go on your tombstone."
"Oh yeah? What would you put on it?"
"Here lies Warren Gates, father, friend, a great man in every way, unimaginable to most but to the many lives he touched."
"Wimpy. Great. Now you've just given me good reason to outlive you."
"Good."
The vamps and the half-bodied beings were up. She and Warren watched their cleanly performed folk dance, the tiny candles in their hands and on their heads not falling once in the course of the complicated choreography. During it all Hermione's mind drifted off to how Harry was doing with the stone. Between the Being in Humptail and Ted, Harry would have the information that she couldn't give to him directly. That would hopefully alleviate his frustration.
"Listen, about Harry," she said to Warren as they clapped their hands at the conclusion of the program, "He's going through a lot. I'd really appreciate it if you eased off on him a bit."
Warren whined, "But I've waited forever for him to finally know about Hugo so I can tell him what a clueless fuck he has been for thirteen years. I'm not making this easier for him. He didn't make things easy for me. Does he know what it feels like to be abandoned by the man you love twice in one lifetime? He doesn't; I do. And to raise a child without him because you didn't want to interrupt his perfect life? I went through all that. I've been waiting a long time to do this."
Warren was being silly on purpose.
"You do realise you sound just like a scorned woman."
"I am. He ruined my life."
"How do you figure that?"
"He introduced me to you."
"True."
"Not to mention, he makes you, and hence me, feel all girly horny whenever he's around you."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
"You think this is funny? If Gracie found out about this it'll be the end of us," Warren complained bitterly.
"I'm sorry but 'girly horny'?"
He finally laughed too, unable to keep a poker face.
"Deny it all you want. I really don't know how you women live with yourselves; all that tension and anxiety hanging over you for years on end. What's with that?"
"You're full of it."
"We men don't torture ourselves," he was quick to point out, "We move on and find other objects of attraction."
"I've moved on," she argued back, "Are we done with him?
"You brought him up," Warren reminded her, "And let's face it. We won't ever be."
"Can you at least stop calling me 'honey'?"
"You know I only do it because it annoys him. He hates thinking that you're with me. And admit it, you also want him to think you're with me. You're afraid."
"Afraid?"
"Yes. Fearful - frightened - afraid."
"I'm not afraid."
"So why didn't you tell him we're not together?"
"Because he didn't ask that question?" she replied. Warren raised his brows, waiting for a better answer, "He did not ask that question exactly. Am I supposed to assume that was what he wanted to know? And he has known for a long time. I told him nothing has changed between us. Why would he care anyway?"
Warren commented, "He has you scared out of your wits, you can't even argue properly."
Hermione couldn't get anything past him.
"So if I am afraid, what exactly am I afraid of?"
"You know. You're afraid because he isn't wearing his wedding ring. You're afraid you're going for a ride again."
She did notice when he held her hand.
Hermione shrugged, "Maybe he took it off and misplaced it."
Warren debunked that theory, "Right. Then explain this. Mrs. Potter, when I last saw her, wasn't wearing hers either."
"Maybe she misplaced hers too."
"I doubt it. If anything she probably had hers resized. It's now too small for her ego," Warren couldn't resist taking a stab at Ginny, "You should ask him what happened. You should ask him tonight. He did say he was coming."
XXXXXXXXXX
A/N. There. Portkey compliance matters about to be cleared up. Wish me well on the next one…not sure how it's going to turn out but I hope it will be special. :)