Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N. Well, here we are, finally.

The last chapter. Took me an extra 5 days (at least it wasn't another year!) to get HHr right. Bexis - one chapter would not be enough to completely repair HHr - it would take an entire story!

Hope this was worth the wait.

XXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 73 - Son of Death vs Master of Death

`The one who calls himself the Son of Death will rule without challenge until the coming of age of the Son of Death's Mistress. They will fight a battle unfought before, altering life and death as it is known.' Prophecy by Chastity Kriselda Durning a.k.a. The Hag, dated July 10, 2001, multiple witnesses during the 2001 Great Seer Gathering.

Within the warmth of the inter-realm portal, Hugo braced himself for impact.

In an instant, white light was replaced by a blinding green laser that struck his body with an intensity of a lightning bolt. It felt like his chest ripped open as he was catapulted into the air by the force of the curse.

He struggled to focus because of the unexpected pain and, instead of easing himself to a balanced landing, got slammed hard onto jagged rock. On instinct one hand went up to check his chest for a possible gaping wound. Finding none, he was finally able to take a normal breath in. He quickly got up, Elder Wand in hand and ready, facing a bewildered Malvado.

"How did you do that?!" Malvado demanded, angry and confused.

"Maybe you didn't do it right?" Hugo offered, in spite his father telling him not to antagonize the beast.

Another green curse that looked just like the last one was about to make impact.

Oh shit!

His shield came up short again and it hit him at the same spot with the same force causing the same pain and the same aerial body effect. He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from screaming. This time he was able to orient himself while in the air and somersault to a reasonable landing, wand at the ready. His breath hitched every time he took it. That really hurt.

Must remember that profanities and exclamations are not spells.

The truth was Hugo had counted on being able to forego protecting himself from a few of those. There goes that strategy. Nobody told him the AK would be excruciatingly painful but then most didn't survive the curse long enough to feel it; except for one person who survived it not once, not twice but three times. He'd have to have a talk with his father about this.

"How are you doing this?!" the frustration in Malvado was somewhat comical if not for the extremely sore torso he had right now.

"Maybe your wand is broken?"

The realization finally dawned on Malvado, "You have all three Hallows. You're Master of Death."

Good. At least Malvado didn't need to AK him a third time to figure it out.

"And you're the Son of Death. Do you know that in many master-slave societies that makes me your Master too?" Hugo couldn't help himself, and seeing how incredibly angry Malvado was becoming only increased his desire to continue, "Oh wait, I almost forgot. Death said It doesn't have a son. It wants a paternity test."

"You have an insolent mouth! Nobody talks to me like that!"

Hugo saw Malvado's wand hand twitch and felt incoming projectiles from behind him and to his right.

Protego!

He whipped up a shield in time and rolled to his left, avoiding another just conjured AK. It exploded behind him, splattering him with broken volcanic rock.

It then rained Stunners on him but he was able to repel most of them back towards Malvado. For his part, his opponent seemed to have smartened up after the delayed limb regeneration incident and was now avoiding them.

With Malvado on the rare defensive Hugo attacked.

Confringo!

He conjured blasting spells in succession, aiming for Malvado's wand limb to gain possession of the Wand of Wands. The ultimate game plan was to return all four Hallows to render both Malvado, and the remaining Invincible currently on the lamb, powerless.

But the older, more experienced wizard regained his composure, warding off Hugo's attack utilizing both wand speed and power. It was Malvado's turn to counter. A steady stream of powerful stunners, blasting spells, maiming curses, disarming hexes and any other conceivable magic that could cause permanent injury were thrown at him.

Hugo put up his best defense to weather the storm. Part of the strategy was to frustrate the enemy, shake his confidence, and cause him to make a mistake. Without confidence, the wand in Malvado's hand would be a lesser weapon. This was not only going to be a fight of skill but also a fight of endurance.

It was strange. Hugo could tell what spells were being conjured and when they were coming even before they were fully formed. He had trained hard and could recognize spell characteristics as they emanated from the wand but usually never before they were actually conjured.

The ability to anticipate the hexes gave him the extra split second to react. He had not gotten hit critically. Hugo calmly dealt with them all, using some defensive spells but also his quickness and agility to dodge the hexes. Utilizing terrain physical attributes was also a major part of his defensive tactic.

He had learned that given a window of time, regardless of magical strength, the efficacy of a magical spell was inversely proportional to the number of times the spell was conjured. Malvado may have a vast arsenal of abilities but only a few of them mattered in battle. Magical physics would be on his side soon.

Of course the laws of magical physics also applied to defensive spells, the reason he was trying to conserve them. He was going to need effective ones when it truly counted.

"Fight me!" Malvado growled, strafing Hugo's immediate vicinity with immobility hexes, a telltale sign that he was rebuilding his arsenal.

Hugo moved to his left, staying ahead of the curses, parrying them off when they got too close. Malvado's suggestion to fight was starting to sound good. All the physical work he had to do to avoid most of the spells was wearing him down. And he knew Malvado wasn't even warmed up yet. With Malvado conserving for a more damaging spell he had to make a pre-emptive strike.

Crack!!!

Malvado Disapparated. The Dark Wizard had used this on his Mum the last time so his father had made sure hide and seek Disapparitions were part of his training. Hugo quieted himself to feel the air around him, picked the spot of impending magical presence and fired a burst of Stunners into it.

Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!

Malvado cursed loudly as a couple hit him mid-Apparition. Hugo turned and fired the same curses at the original Apparition spot where his enemy reappeared a split second later, hitting Malvado again and causing him to fall.

Now on the offensive, Hugo peppered the off balanced wizard with blasters. A couple grazed him. But the Dark one was quick, once again Disapparating before Hugo could zone in on a vital organ.

Hugo fought instinct and closed his eyes, tuning in to the characteristic energy deformation. He crouched as he felt an imminent reappearance in his vicinity.

Sectumsempra!

He slashed at Malvado's knees with a cutting spell at re-entry. It took half of one leg off but Malvado moved away in time that the cut to the other was superficial.

Malvado countered, stunning him at close range. Hugo took the first one and it flattened him to the ground. He barely blocked the next and was in a very bad position. Hugo had to move or do something about Malvado's wand hand.

Reducto!

"Argh!!!" Malvado screamed in agony as his right hand turned into dust, the undamaged Wand of Wands dropping on the ground a few inches from where he was.

Hugo summoned it. Just as it reached his left hand Malvado swung at his head with his other fist and hit him squarely on the jaw. Pain exploded from the point of impact and reverberated through his entire skull. His head was still ringing as two more came down hard on him. Malvado pummeled him to the ground. One unfortunate thing about his thirteen year old body was that it wasn't built to take punches like that.

Or the boot that was about to hit his midsection. He was supposed to avoid a physical fight, particularly in close quarters, but now that he was in it he had to engage. Still reeling from the blows to his head, he had to focus. He grasped the Elder Wand and willed his body to assume that of the most muscular human he could transform into.

He steeled himself to absorb the kick and to roll with it, ending up on his back. Malvado was still handless and now wandless. Ignoring the pain he aimed both wands at his foe.

Stupefy!!!

Two stunners struck Malvado at the same time. The enemy staggered back but only a couple of steps, and he was on top of Hugo in no time. Their bodies crashed hard on the ground causing him to let go of both wands with the impact.

As quick as Hugo was Malvado was even quicker on his feet and received another fist to his face. He was feeling the strain of being beaten up and constantly on his backside. Without either wand, instinct took over. Hugo brought his hands to meet the foot that was about to come down hard on his head and in one motion twisted it hard in an unnatural position with all his strength.

It snapped, causing Malvado to fall on his side in agony. Groggy from the head hits and not knowing where exactly the wands were, Hugo willed for the Elder Wand. He conjured the first hex he could think of the second it came.

Incarcerous!

Chains of metal snaked around Malvado and tightened. Hugo pinned him down with his weight. Then he punched Malvado in the face.

Once, twice, three times. Hugo lost it. Wrath came out of nowhere and took over without his permission. With each hard blow came the sound of bone against bone, a satisfying release and a motivation to do it over and over again. Malvado deserved this for generations of pain and death, all those beings, those innocent lives, his Dad, his Mum; his Mum who was about to die because of this evil man.

Tears blurred his vision and he heard a primitive cry which sounded very much like him. His knuckles sore, bloody and slippery, he continued to pound against the wizard's face.

"Hugo, stop! It's me."

The voice was so familiar that it jolted him back from his uncontrollable rage. He saw Warren's broken face before him, causing momentary confusion. Then, the wounds began to heal right before his eyes. While it was still Warren's face, the eyes and the wicked grin were definitely not his.

Hugo felt a stab of a wand tip on his ribcage. Concentration broken, the restraining spell was off. Malvado, with Warren's face, laughing.

Knowing that no physical maneuver or defensive spell could spare him the incoming hit, he summoned his wand, aimed at Malvado and fired an offensive curse he hoped would cause the most damage.

Barely getting his hex off, his ribcage exploded and a blinding pain shot through him it almost knocked him out. Best guess, a blasting curse, just like the one he just conjured. He managed to stagger away from Malvado but had to fight to remain conscious, to stay alert, get through the pain and be prepared for the next attack.

Transforming back into his own body, he could feel he was slowly healing but he needed more time to recover. From a crouched position, he glanced up at Malvado who was about twenty feet away, the smoldering crater to his right. Somehow, they had managed to fight their way back to summit.

Malvado, it seemed, was taking a breather too, hand fully recuperated but now missing a part of his face.

"You can't kill me. I can't kill you. I can heal. On the other hand, you…"

Malvado stopped mouth slightly agape, seeing that the hole the Malvado spell created in his side was no longer there.

"…can heal too," Hugo finished for him, faced him squarely and took a fight ready stance.

It still stung like hell though. Quick, shallow breaths seemed to help, hopefully not too obvious to his foe. Too bad there were no known anesthetic spells strong enough for his type of injury.

"Your mother couldn't do that."

"Upgraded version," Hugo replied, wand still aimed at Malvado, wary of both his opponents' eyes and any slight motions with his wand, "Master of Death 2.0."

"I see. I am impressed. Warren is impressed too."

Willing his senses to see Warren as enemy, Hugo did not bite. He made that mistake once and wouldn't again. Hugo had just then accepted that if Warren was still alive he was going to die with Malvado.

He should have taken advantage of Malvado's state but, frankly, he was spent. He could counter and defend, yes, but was not in any condition to mount an effective attack. Regeneration always took a lot out of him and he wasn't even sure he could follow Malvado should the wizard decide to leave and fight another day.

"Well, this is just stupid, don't you think?" Malvado continued, gesticulating with his hands, abandoning a fighting posture, "As you can see we are both very powerful wizards. We can't kill or hurt each other. So what's the point in all this fighting?"

"You picked a fight with me."

"I obviously made a mistake," the older wizard countered, then made a mind-boggling suggestion, "I have a proposal for you. I want what you have and I want the Hallows. Take my Stone and join me."

Hugo spat at him, "How gullible do you think I am?"

"On the contrary, I think you are a very smart young man," Malvado patronized him. He retrieved dark vials from his pockets and laid them gently at his feet, explaining, "Antidotes to the Asphyxiatus, the only ones in existence; one vial for testing by your experts and the other to rid your mother of the poison. All I ask in exchange is for you, the Master of Death, to accept the Invisibility stone from me and give me the Hallows."

There should have been no question in his mind what the answer to this question was. His father had warned him that because Malvado had control over Warren's body, such mind games were a big possibility. This bargain for his Mum's life that he was being presented with was one scenario they went through. Hugo had assured his father and himself that he was not going to cave into the pressure. And here he was, considering it heavily when his decision truly mattered. He reached into his logical brain for support.

"There is no known antidote. You're lying."

"I could be but what if I am not. What have you got to lose?" Warren's image snarled evilly, "In a few hours your mother will experience one of the most excruciatingly painful ways to die. Would it help if I gave you three days to verify the results for yourself? See your Mum well? Three days is a long time, time you will not have otherwise. If you are satisfied with your mother's recovery, we'll meet and perform the transfer. You are an honorable young man. I trust you to keep your word."

Every thought and voice within him screamed "no"; except for his own. After two years thinking that she was dying and unable to do anything about it in a realm limited in what was already known he would give anything for a chance to see his Mum alive and well. He picked up the vials, touched them, to make them more real. Malvado wasn't through with his offer.

"Still not good enough? Let me sweeten the pot. I will make an Unbreakable vow before Death on my Stone that, if you accept my offer, any blood relative of yours will never die by my hand or by my command, and that Death take away my invincibility if they do. I will leave your family alone for all of eternity."

And as if Malvado could read Hugo's mind he added, "Let me take away your fears. Let me stop the nightmares. What would you rather do, Hugo? Join me and save your entire family or fight for a losing cause and watch them die one by one?"

Made up memories of his family and friends dying by his hand flashed in his mind. In his vulnerability Malvado had accessed a private mental space and was now toying with him. His unseeing eyes were filled with horrible images and shutting them didn't make the graphic pictures go away.

In it his mother and his father said to him, "Don't fail us, Hugo."

"Enough!" he screamed, the thought of failing them broke the unauthorized connection.

Large beads of sweat trickled down the side of his forehead as he flicked and pointed a steady hand at Malvado. Taken aback, Malvado had his arms up, locked and immovable, his feet dangling on thin air just above the crater of the volcano. He did not know what hit him until he saw a wand fall right in front of Hugo's feet.

Elder Wand steadily aimed at the Dark Wizard, Hugo picked up the Wand of Wands, held it with the antidote and walked over to the crater edge. He said to Malvado.

"What good will it do if I give myself up to you to protect my family but abandon everyone else? I would rather die than fail that way."

Malvado's visage resurfaced, his eyes as black as the night, fury palpable.

"Then you can't have it both ways!"

The vials burst in Hugo's hand, glass perforating through his palms and out the back. Fake antidote or not the physical pain Hugo felt was nothing compared to the agony of seeing the potion that represented his Mum's life pass through his fingers.

A single thought came to mind. Malvado had to end now. The Hallows would have to wait.

Eyes fixed on Malvado's, he summoned Death one last time.

"Master," It said.

"A portal please, right at the crater."

His calm façade belied the fierce resolve to extinguish any remnant of being Malvado possessed.

Death was being meticulous as usual, "I am not supposed to interfere in this fight or cause his death."

"Technically you are not interfering and you are in no way causing his death. The fight is over, as you can see," Hugo reasoned, "I need a portal to escort this escaped being back to the realm where he came from."

"The portal is designed to transport one being at a time," It reminded.

Hugo was well aware of that.

"Really? Then I will use it accordingly. Thank you."

After a measured pause, Death obeyed. The earth shook and chunks of volcanic rock coated with hot steamy magma shot out from underneath Malvado. Hugo looked down into the darkness.

Realizing what Hugo was about to do, Malvado mounted a raucous protest.

"This is not humane! If you send me through this portal it will not hold! I will cease to exist! Warren will cease to exist! Anywhere!"

According to Rasputin's calculations, Malvado, having accumulated multiple magical signatures over the years, would likely collapse the portal and disappear forever. And if the portal didn't collapse, Hugo was going to join him to make sure that it did.

Hugo ignored his plea. He felt no guilt or remorse for what he was about to do. He released Malvado and watched him fall into nothingness. It would be over soon.

Out of the blue, burning excruciating terror gripped his entire being. Hugo crumpled to the ground on all fours, screaming and writhing in anguish. The Mental Cruciatus. It was searing and crushing at the same time, coming in waves of increasing intensity until his body and mind couldn't take it any longer.

Hugo blacked out for what must have been a short period of time. He was awoken by the sound of two wizards in conversation.

"You're late. What took you so long?"

It was Malvado; somehow he survived. Hugo had to fight back. Then he noticed. There was nothing in his hands other than shards of glass from the broken antidote vials.

He summoned the Elder wand. It did not come.

"A simple thanks will do," the voice was that of another wizard, familiar but Hugo could not place where he heard him before, "What do we do with him?"

He summoned Death. It did not come.

Malvado coldly replied, "Use this wand. Kill him in front of his mother."

His mother? Out of the corner of his eye Hugo saw two figures dismounting from brooms.

"Let him go!"

His mum's voice.

"Mum…"

Hugo turned his head up towards her direction. He missed her so much he just wanted to see her.

"Hugo!"

He blinked and her face came into focus. She was crying. His Dad, his Uncle Ron, was holding her back at a safe distance.

"Please, let him go!" she pleaded.

Someone took him by the arm, got him up on his feet and pushed him forward.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Hugo!!!"

His world turned green. This time, Hugo felt no pain at all.

XXXXXXXXXX

Malvado looked upon the grieving mother, fascinated by his lack of indifference. Somewhere within him the remnants of his son's existence wanted to go over and console the woman.

He sent Warren a message, "You picked the wrong side and lost. Resistance is futile. I will find you and destroy you."

There was no reply save for the sudden taste of bile in his mouth.

The Prophecy. Son of Death against Son of Death's Mistress. It would have been honorable to keep it strictly between the two of them but he learned from Voldemort's experience never to underestimate kids. He was right not to.

"We lost all our men," his new right hand man updated him of the situation.

It was a surprise this change in the guard but it was well earned and well deserved. Hector was old school like he was. He needed someone fresh and current. He had thought it would be Warren but this young one would have to do.

"We rebuild."

It would take time but he had done it many times before. Then he would be great again.

"What about them?"

The other wizard motioned over to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, both with wands in their hands and ready to avenge their loss.

His regeneration was still incomplete. Given his current state he didn't like his chances against the Granger woman.

"Leave them. She's a dead woman," he replied, "Him I don't care about."

"Salazar…"

There was no need to call his attention. Malvado saw. There was something wrong with the boy they just killed.

The dead boy's body was a kaleidoscope of warm colors, pulsating, a slow, steady heartbeat. Moment by moment the pulse picked up and pounded with increasing force, until if got so fast he couldn't pick up where one beat ended and the other started.

Suddenly, the boy burst into blistering flames they had to step away. It burned vibrantly and gloriously, incinerating the figure instantly. Red, yellow and orange danced at its core weaving around each other in patterns so magnificent it was mesmerizing.

Colors gathered at the center of the blaze, organized and formed a shape. A human figure…with wings. It was looking straight at him.

Malvado retreated slightly, wand in hand, prepared to curse whatever came out of the fire.

As ready as he was he wasn't prepared for what came next. The human figure shot out of the fire, a gale of immeasurable force and speed. It grabbed a hold of him with a death grip and took him straight into the still open portal.

The portal whirred loudly as it took them in. In no time, the walls of the inter-realm vessel expanded and contracted vigorously in unnatural proportions. Face to face with his nemesis, he saw his reflection off its avian eyes. Although he felt nothing, his face, his entire body was expanding and contracting the same way the portal was.

Horror gripped him by the throat. He could see essences of beings he acquired escaping his body. They sensed death. He looked down at his hand and could not find the wand.

The humming sound rose to deafening levels as the base of the portal began to crack and fold unto itself. The only reason he had not fallen yet was because the winged boy had him by his robes.

Malvado looked the boy in the eye, begging for mercy. The boy said nothing but his eyes told Malvado what he needed to know.

He was let go and gravity did the rest.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Council of Death was emergently convened. A catastrophic event had just occurred. The time continuum barrier had been breached, damaged by a massive explosion of an inter-realm portal.

Repair of the rip and containment was of the utmost priority or death as it was known would cease to exist.

XXXXXXXXX

Hugo regained consciousness in the arms of his Mum. There was a dull ache on his back and shoulders and he felt like his bones had been arranged incorrectly inside him. The portal tried to suck him in as it imploded and it took a lot of effort to get out. He hurt all over but he knew it was over.

Malvado was dead. But his Mum…

"Mum, I'm okay," he said to her as he sat up, ignoring the pain as he moved, "The poison…"

A couple of figures with hospital badges appeared out of nowhere.

His Dad said to them, "Let's get you both to St. Mungo's."

XXXXXXXXX

One week later at St. Mungo's

"So, in the two years you spent in that realm training to be this kick-ass warrior, did you get some?"

Spencer was straddling one of those swivel chairs back to front, asking the first question that came to him after Hugo shared a slightly edited version of what transpired. Hugo laughed. It was good to be back.

Isa, as usual annoyed at their friend's lack of propriety, replied, "He was trying to save his life and the world, not on some quest to get laid. This is the first time we're being allowed to see him and that's the first question that comes to your mind?!"

"It's a fair question," Spencer responded, "He's a fifteen year old trapped in a thirteen year old body, with raging hormones like us. Be honest with us Hugo, did you have a steady girl while you were there to help you, you know, relax?"

Isa's eyes rolled up. Hugo chuckled.

"Yuck! I don't want to hear about my brother's sex life," Rose interjected, "Oh wait, I do!"

They laughed.

"No, Spence," Hugo answered, knowing Spencer would not rest until he did, "Didn't really meet any nice dead girls my age while I was there."

He glanced at Isa who was seated on his bed beside him. Spencer was right about raging hormones though. He had dreams about Isa when he was away, dreams one wouldn't really consider innocent and more bordering on inappropriate considering who they were to each other. They started off subconsciously while he slept then grew into something more conscious towards the end. He rationalized that it was normal. Professor Dumbledore said so himself during one of their fishing trips. Considering that Isa was the only girl his age he was close to who wasn't related to him, he figured things could have been worse.

At the moment, he was crushing hard on his best friend. Her proximity wasn't helping him in his efforts to explain it away.

"I'm really glad you had a chance to work things out with Dad," Al, who was standing close to Isa, chimed in.

Apparently Al and Isa had been running into each other a lot in the past week and got to talking. Probably more than talking judging by how his brother's arm casually rested around Isa's shoulder and how they stole glances at each other when they thought no one was looking.

His chest tightened at the sight. Check that. He was crushing hard on his best friend who was currently in love with his brother. Well, he did ask for normal. Pining away for someone else's girl was normal for kids his age.

Hugo replied, "I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him. How is he?"

"The same," Al answered somberly, "James and Lily came to visit."

"She forgives him?" Hugo wanted Lily to, for their dad.

Rose weighed in, "Forgive might be too hopeful a word. I said `hi' to her and she totally ignored me."

That meant it wasn't time for him to come to Lily either. Hugo was disappointed.

"She'll come around," Al reassured them, "I'll take you to see him later if you want."

He nodded, though he preferred to do it on his own. His dad was still in a coma. This in spite the fact that the healers found nothing that could cause him not to wake. Hugo was worried about him but surprisingly not as much as he thought and wondered if he lingered in the other realm for news. He wished he could summon Death and ask It, or even travel back to where his dad was. For a fleeting moment he felt bad losing mastership of the Elder wand.

Isa spoke and gave him an excuse to look at her, "By the way, we just ran into your Mum. She looks so much better."

"Yeah, she does."

When he and his Mum arrived at St. Mungo's that night the Healers had a sample of a possible antidote but they quickly ran out. An urgent search for three eyed crow blood and direwolf hair came up empty. Aunt Jessie somehow figured that Rose planted his blood sample with Isa and Spencer and they told her the truth. He begged her not to turn him over and, thankfully, she understood.

While he had learned to harness his healing powers during combat they were still raw and not fully in his control when not under life or death situations. Nobody knew if or how long they would last, not even in the other realm. It was also something that only a few people knew about; his mum, his two dads, Rose, Isa, Spencer and Aunt Jessie. And he had asked each of them to keep the secret to themselves. At some point, he hoped to find someone who understood the phoenix-healer part of him. He was not in any rush.

He couldn't wait to leave the hospital and resume life as usual. He was going back to the IMAN for school and live the life of a thirteen year old, maybe break some rules but work for good grades so he could get into a respectable Healer Training Program and deserve it.

His Mum was happy when he told her that and that he was no longer going to deny the abilities he was born with. Hugo told her what his dad did, how he helped him get into a better state to fight Malvado and have a chance, and how he got to know him better in the two years. The first time he casually referred to his father as `Dad' in their conversation and completely without spite he noticed a relief in her. While he didn't intentionally get close to his dad for her he was glad that it made her happy.

Mum was thinking about staying at Grimmauld for a while. He didn't know if that decision had to do with his father or the fact that talks were underway for an IMAN in the area but he was glad. It would be difficult and awkward at first but at least he'd see his family more often. He wished though that his dad would wake soon.

Hugo listened as Spencer, Rose, Isa and Al talked about the events of the past week while Hugo was sequestered and out of touch.

The Malvado trials were on the way. The village of Pag-asa was being rebuilt. With Gracie gone his Mum's friend, Maria, had taken a leave of absence from her current International Magical Police job to help in the process.

There were a lot of changes at the Ministry.

Unspeakable Max had stepped down as head of the Department of Mysteries, an early retirement. Efforts were on the way to find a suitable replacement however Unspeakable Boots was the favorite candidate.

His father was still Head Auror but because of his medical condition his other dad was tapped to fill in for him in the interim. Ted and George Bones got merit citations for the vital roles they played in exposing the Hosiah Humptail-Salazar Malvado connection as well as the capture of Malvado's men. George Bones was appointed Interim Chief of the North division (while his dad filled in for, er, his other dad).

Aunt Jessie, still Chief of Forensics, after seeing that her Mum had recovered from the Asphyxiatus, had decided to take an entire year off work on a Sabbatical, citing that she had seen more dead bodies in recent weeks than she would normally see in two years. Finnigan's was also temporarily without its owner. She and Uncle Seamus were off travelling to parts unknown. Ridiculous stories came out of the tabloids that she had become a mad woman insisting that staff perform more tests on bodies to verify death before putting them in the freezer. Frankly who could blame her?

There was a new Minister for Magic. Samuel Greengrass was unanimously voted.

"Guys, check this out!" Spencer had short attention span and was looking through the blinds out the window, "Paparazzi. On the tree outside Hugo's window."

"I hate those guys," Al had strong feelings, "Wish they would leave us and Mum alone."

Hugo heard that the rumor mills were having a field day speculating whether Aunt Ginny and his dad would still divorce or if his dad and mum were getting back together because of him. He didn't know what was going to happen with his dad still being in a coma and all but after spending all kinds of time together, Hugo knew what the older Potter wanted. The two years was not only filled with hours of training but hours of talking, a lot of it about his mother. His father spoke of them not only as a couple but as partners in helping fight evil.

He saw his mum and their friendship through his father's eyes now. For years he heard how great it was but it was nothing compared to listening to his father talk about her and them and what they went through. Hugo wished for his old man to get what he wanted, not for Hugo but for himself, but it depended a lot on what his mother did. That and he had to wake up.

"I got an idea!" Spencer was always full of them, "Let's moon them."

Isa objected, "No. They'll think it's Hugo."

"In the first place, so what?"

Hugo concurred, "I agree."

"But understanding this act would be considered as one not fitting a respected Potter, I, Spencer, will take the fall. We'll need a pen."

Isa took one from her purse and handed it to him, with less resistance than Hugo thought it usually merited. Instead of taking it, Spencer turned and dropped his pants.

"Write "Spencer's ass" on my butt."

The room burst out into laughter.

"Sorry," Isa refused, "I supply the pen. I think I've done enough."

"Al, bud, come on," Spencer urged, slapping his butt cheek.

"Uh," Al hesitated, then declined, "I'd like to be your friend but we're not that close yet."

"I'll do it," Rose volunteered eagerly, snatching the pen from Isa.

"Go Pink!" Spencer cheered.

Al protested, for reasons totally unknown, and suggested, "Let Hugo do it."

"I'm not touching his butt," Hugo held both hands up.

Rose explained as only she could, "The way I see it, of the people in this room I am the most qualified. I've touched a few boy butts and I've actually seen many boy butts, all three of yours included."

She pointed to each of them with satisfaction. Spencer looked proud; Hugo didn't care; but Al…

"What?! When?!"

"Spencer a few days ago, Hugo many times before he turned five and you, two summers ago, camp, boy's cabin."

"You spied on me naked?!"

"Ew. Not you. Me and the girls were spying on Troy, you just happened to be there. So really, not my fault," Rose rationalized, then turned to Isa, "It was on the skinny side but a fine one."

Al blushed crimson red. Everybody else was laughing.

His brother declared to him, "Your sister is a depraved human being."

Spencer butted in, "Hello, getting cold down there."

While the others were busy mooning the paparazzi, Isa took his hand in hers and gave it a brief squeeze.

She said to him, "I'm so glad you made it."

"And in one piece," he joked, acutely aware of her now non-existent touch.

She smiled, "What did you miss the most?"

He thought about it for a second, looked at his friends and family in the room talking about nothing and everything, then replied, "This. Normal stuff."

Isa's facial response was a cross between a smile and a frown.

"You've changed, a lot," she concluded.

He had. It no longer bothered him that he was Harry Potter's bastard son. He was finally at peace with who he was.

Before he could reply a burst of laughter erupted. The paparazzi had lost his grip taking a picture of Spencer's ass that he fell off the tree. Revenge complete.

Isa asked, "Do you think it's over?"

The Peverell Hallows were back with the POTH for now. He, Al and James with the use of his Mum's book would return them to Death when he got better.

The Wand of Wands was nowhere to be found, presumed to have been with Malvado in the portal when it collapsed.

As for Malvado's accomplice, the wizard had gone under and was at large. Neither his mum nor his dad saw his face so they couldn't ID him. However, returning the Hallows should render his Invincibility stone powerless.

Hugo replied honestly, "I don't know but I really hope so."

"Excuse me," Spencer had an important sounding question, "Why won't this thing come off?"

Isa had a mischievous glint in her eye. The butt marker was a permanent one.

Hugo laughed. Normal stuff.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hermione had been walking past Harry's private room at least once every day since she was well enough to walk. There was always someone with him; healers, aides, James, Al, Lily, Hugo, Ron. And Ginny of course, who almost never left his side. She went in and sat with him during the nights when they were gone.

Tonight's visit was no different than the ones before. She snuck in undetected and sat on the chair to his right. She didn't say much, found that words were difficult to find. She mostly watched him. The few times she touched him, his hand, his shoulder, his hair, she had tears in her eyes. She kept expecting him to respond and, because he didn't, she was overcome by this overwhelming desire for him to be better.

She was worried; worried that he would never wake up, worried that he would wake up and they'd have to talk about what they had to talk about, and worried that he would wake up and he wouldn't remember.

Truth be told she was anxious about speaking with him. She'd had a lot of time to think about what happened between them since Harry found out about Hugo and about what he said to her that night he almost died after fighting Malvado.

I know about your deal with Death. I know it wasn't my fault that I forgot about us. It wasn't yours either. But if you think it was, I forgive you. I only wish you could forgive yourself so you can stop running away from us. Come back to me.

She wasn't sure if she could ever forgive herself but she was back to hoping she could. He had always had that effect on her. And she was back to hoping that there could be a `them' again, a feeling she didn't particularly like. She just then remembered why not. Hoping for a `them' always hurt her in the end.

A `them' again, after all these years. Things wouldn't be the same as it was before. They were not the same people they were fifteen years ago. Did he realize that?

Hermione took his hand in hers.

And what if you don't wake up?

The possibility gutted her and it suddenly was hard to keep still. She didn't belong here, she didn't belong anywhere, not without him around.

She stood up and kissed him on the mouth, silent tears falling as she did. She pulled back a bit.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

Hermione left the room that night and the hospital the next day.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Two days later, Tisdale Cemetery, Timmins, Ontario

Hermione was at Warren's funeral. There were about five hundred wizards, witches and beings here. She did not realize Warren knew so many people and expected a smaller gathering but many had come from all over the world to pay their last respects.

The service was solemn and tasteful. She couldn't help but shed tears as she remembered how he saved her from herself and how he died trying to save Hugo. No matter what other people thought of him, to her he was a beautiful person.

Aside from his twenty-three known biological children accompanied by their mothers (yes, he did try his best to fulfill the Hag's prophecy that he would seed the world), most of the attendees were people who had known Warren from way back when he was still with the Canadian Magical Law Enforcement. Then there was the other group of mourners, those who probably had outstanding criminal warrants in other jurisdictions.

She laughed inwardly, even as tears still came down her cheeks. That was Warren in a nutshell.

The man beside her offered her a handkerchief. She took it and thanked him.

"Good man," he said, "But how much tedious drivel must one endure?"

Hermione must have chuckled, drawing judging stares from the other mourners.

"It's a funeral," the man chastised harshly, "You're not supposed to laugh you know."

I expected better etiquette from you, Waterloo. And more howling and tears.

Warren's voice in her head.

And I expected you to be dead.

Then a thought crossed her mind that made her sad.

Stop it. I'm not a ghost or your imagination. You're perfectly sane, well, in that regard anyway.

Then explain.

When the portal collapsed it destroyed the physical me so technically I am dead. But not dead dead. The implosion caused several rips in the time continuum barrier. Past, present and future connections exist in some places. The Death Council went in emergency mode to fix it but, until they do so completely, unauthorized being travels are causing major anomalies throughout the realms and they need experienced essences like me to help retrieve inter-time and inter-realm jumpers.

You actually agreed to do this?

I volunteered. And it's your fault.

How is it my fault?

I was a perfectly self-centered being before I met you.

You're still a self-centered being. Fess up.

Unlimited access, of course. Imagine this. Women. Lots of them in every conceivable realm on the time continuum.

Hmm, doesn't do it for me.

It was prophesized. I have to seed the world.

Twenty-three seeds in this reality not enough?

Not nearly. Just twenty-three, huh? Could have sworn I had a couple more.

What are you doing here?

Checking out the turn out. So, what do you think?

For someone who pissed off so many, impressive.

Better be. I told many of them they'd get paid at the end of the service. Some of them I actually owe money from. If I were you, I'd leave, now. I may have given your name to a few. Got to go. Work to do.

Warren.

Yeah.

Thank you. For what you did and for letting me know you're okay.

Take care of yourself, Waterloo.

XXXXXXXXXX

Two weeks later…

Hermione looked at her timeteller; five before one; she was a few minutes early for her final POTH meeting. Hours earlier, James, Albus and Hugo returned the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak to Death. The POTH was no longer needed and she was visiting each POTH member individually to give her personal thanks for the service they provided. That and to terminate their POTH contract.

Meeting with Boris was most difficult. He had been with her since its inception and erasing his POTH related memories was tough. He, like the rest, opted for Obliviation. In the end it was he who urged her to do the task when she wavered.

She had erased six memories today; one memory to go. This was going to be even more challenging but for very different reasons.

The porch light was on as she approached the front door. The Keeper was expecting her. Hermione pressed the ringer, her anxiety amplified as a soft melodious ring echoed within. Not long after, the Keeper was at the door ushering her into the foyer. The unfamiliarity of it suddenly struck her as she pulled her cloak hood back. All these years and it was her first time inside the Pitch.

"It's late. I apologize," Hermione broke the ice, dispensing with the more traditional pleasantries.

"It has to be done," Ginny replied with genuine understanding, "How does this work exactly? I was only half listening when Professor Flitwick explained termination of duties."

"There's not much to it. I go in, assess potential security risks and remove your POTH associated memories."

"Memory alterations make me nervous."

"I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better I've done six today without any problems."

Ginny was indeed tense, a demeanor Hermione had not seen in a very long while. She had anticipated Ginny's unease. Undergoing voluntary Obliviation required trust. She didn't imagine there was any of that between them.

Secret meetings of the POTH kind were beyond Ginny's comfort zone. Nobody who knew enough about the POTH, especially Warren, would have guessed her involvement, which made her the perfect alternate Keeper. Even if Warren had suspected, he would not have questioned his inability to access pockets of her mind, her being the Head Auror's wife and all.

Admittedly, when Professor Flitwick suggested it two years ago Hermione seriously doubted that Ginny would accept and that was the only reason she did not try to dissuade the professor from making the offer. It was quite surprising when Ginny agreed. Although she was perfect, for personal reasons, Hermione would have much preferred someone else.

She scanned the premises. They were alone. Ginny had given her elf the night off as she asked. She preferred not to be disturbed, to keep the meeting with the Keeper short, professional and to the point.

"Do you have questions before we proceed?"

"Yes, I have a few questions."

Hermione had hoped not but that was expecting too much out of a Daily Prophet columnist.

"After you Obliviate me, how are you going to explain your being here?"

"I won't have to. I'll be gone when you regain full awareness," Hermione replied, "It's best if we do it where you were just before I arrived."

"That makes sense. This way."

Ginny turned and walked down the corridor, opening the double doors leading into a study. As Hermione followed Ginny she noticed papers on the desk, the beginnings of an already heavily edited paragraph on the sheet at the centre and several discarded drafts haphazardly strewn about.

"Bad writer's block," she explained.

She sat at her desk and motioned Hermione to sit across from her. Hermione preferred not to sit but didn't want to upset the fragile state of things between them so she did. The red head continued with her questions.

"Was Gates aware that I was the Keeper?"

"He knew our history. I don't think the possibility ever crossed his mind. Why do you ask?"

"Why did he send IMP impersonators to the Pitch?"

"I made him vow he'd protect the Potters against Malvado," Hermione gave her one of the reasons, "And he thought Harry had the cloak."

"And Al?" Ginny was still miffed at Warren about that. "Asking my son to pose as yours."

Hermione's instinct was to defend Warren's actions like she did when Harry questioned his motives, all borne out of a twisted sense of loyalty to him. She owed Ginny nothing; she owed Warren a lot. But in the end there was no point making Warren out to be someone no one else would ever believe him to be.

"He crossed the line. What he did was wrong. If it were the other way around I would feel the same as you."

That wasn't a lie.

Ginny revealed, "Harry knows. He said something to me today."

Harry had woken up a few days ago. She had yet to visit, something she still wasn't ready for. How did Harry find out?

Hermione asked, "Al's old Snitch?"

"That and Dovalov's and Seamus' visit here to warn me. He didn't buy that they came over to see him because they should have known he was on the other side of the world," Ginny explained.

"Does it matter to you that he does?"

"It is not necessary to Obliviate him," Ginny replied, "After today it won't matter. He asked why I did it."

"Why did you?" Hermione was curious.

"For James, Al and Lily. They had as much claim to the Peverell Hallows as Hugo did. I did it for them, to safeguard what is theirs."

Hermione understood, "You thought I was stealing their birthrights to give to Hugo."

"I didn't think you were actually serious about getting rid of them. Can you blame me?"

"No. We would do anything for our children."

Ginny agreed, "And Harry, we do have those two things in common."

The mention of Harry was a cue for Hermione to get Ginny's Obliviation underway.

"If there is nothing else…" Hermione began but was interrupted.

"Actually, there is one other thing I'm desperately hoping we can discuss," Ginny wavered, suddenly uncomfortable.

Hermione regarded Ginny's expression. She had a few guesses about what Ginny wanted to talk about, all of them about Harry and the children, and none of them she was keen on hearing. But there something about Ginny's demeanor that spoke to her as a truce of sorts. That and her curiosity was piqued. What was it that Ginny was desperate to talk to her about?

"If it's about me and Harry, I'd rather not hear it," Hermione told her truthfully.

"It's going to be difficult but I'll try not to let it be about that," Ginny answered, then took a breath in and out before continuing, "I love Harry. I always have and always will. I know you love him too. It's a few years too late but I needed to tell you that I'm sorry that I hurt you when I married him. I should have known about you."

Hermione was surprised. She didn't expect that at all.

"In all fairness the first time you married him you didn't know. That definitely wasn't your fault," Hermione put things in perspective.

"Yeah, but that second time and staying married to him after I found out, that was mean."

"Selfish maybe, but it wasn't mean. And it happened a long time ago," Hermione shrugged, "Time makes many things seem not a big deal anymore."

"It had to be said."

She had not had a candid conversation with Ginny in a very long time but it was easy to slip into one even though it was clear they weren't friends anymore. Ginny divorced Harry and now, an apology. Mid life crisis or something else?

"Why apologize now? We both know there is no going back to how things were between us and I don't think you're doing this because you want an apology from me. You're not dying yet, are you?"

Ginny laughed, "No, I'm not, although I can see why you'd think that an absolution from you could be the reason. I owe you a proper apology so I'm giving you one."

To be truthful Hermione didn't need one. A part of her did think that Ginny had been apologizing for years, maybe even before Ginny realized she was sorry for what happened. Little things - Ginny asking her to come back to the Ministry to work with Harry, the tolerance of her and Harry's close working relationship then and even Ginny's agreement with Professor Flitwick's proposal to be POTH keeper upon his demise.

Admittedly, on those alone, Hermione had thought Ginny could have had less noble motives. But there was one thing that always made Hermione feel that Ginny was trying to atone for the past. Since Hugo's birth Ginny treated him with a kindness that didn't make sense otherwise.

"You have been very good to Hugo all these years," Hermione had to say it, "I'm grateful."

"You did the same for my children. It was the least I could do."

There were things that needed to be said plainly and things that didn't need to be spelled out. Ginny apologized; she accepted.

"One last thing," Ginny took out a small black cloth from the top right drawer of her desk and handed it to her, "This belongs to you."

She untied the bow and opened the wrapping. In it was a very familiar piece of jewelry, the sight of it was so unnerving she felt numb all of a sudden. Instinctively she pushed the cloth away from her until it settled at the centre of Ginny's desk between them, the ring with the green stone sitting on it like a big white elephant.

"I don't understand," she looked at Ginny.

"The ring belongs to you," Ginny repeated.

"He gave it to you."

"But he gave it to you first and he meant to give it back," Ginny stated the truth, facts that she would have known only because Harry told her.

Hermione thought Ginny insane, "That may be so but I can't take it."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

Ginny said to her plainly, "It'll be wrong for me to keep it."

"Then give it back to him."

"He would never willingly take it from me. And even if I don't give him a choice he won't give it to anyone else, especially not to you," Ginny reasoned, "It was his Mum's. It is yours. It's not just a ring. It stands for something meaningful, something beautiful, at least it used to. I'd rather it not go to waste."

"I wouldn't know what to do with it either. I have no intention of marrying Harry."

Hermione hadn't even decided if she was going to see him.

"It doesn't have to be complicated. He doesn't need to know you have it. When the time comes maybe you can pass it on to Hugo or to his children," Ginny wrapped the ring back into the back cloth, pushed it closer to her side of the desk, "You know I'm right about this. Quit being so stubborn and just take it. Please."

At that point Hermione didn't have a choice. Hermione put the ring away. She would try and figure out the best way to give it back to Harry or, maybe, to Hugo as Ginny suggested. As much as it didn't feel right she understood how Ginny felt - it would be more wrong for her to keep it.

Hermione felt safe enough to say poker-faced, "So, was that it or do you have any more baggage you'd like to leave with me?"

Ginny got the joke, "That's plenty, don't you think?"

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione had a question she was hoping Ginny would address.

"What is it?"

"Harry believes in marriage. I can't picture him walking away from his vows unless you asked him to and didn't give him a choice. Why did you let him go?"

Ginny paused, as if contemplating how best to respond, then said with the complete honesty they had between them many eons ago, "I didn't let him go. A part of me will always love him but it has become increasingly difficult to stay with him when some truths are hard to ignore. I think deep down I've always known it just took me a while to accept. He may have married me but his heart was never mine to begin with. It has always been yours."

A collective relief floated in the air between them, for Ginny because she finally said it out loud and for Hermione because she finally heard Ginny say it. It was a blessing of sorts, one Hermione never expected to come from Ginny, ever.

"Okay, I think I'm finally ready," Ginny announced, "Try not to erase this last part. I don't want to have to repeat this conversation with you again."

Hermione lifted her wand.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was late. Well-wishers had left hours ago and Harry was relieved. He was glad to see most of them but there was one particular person he was hoping to see who hadn't come. And after three days of being awake he wondered if she ever would.

One day, he could understand. Two, maybe she was really busy. But three? She was avoiding him, avoiding him even after what he said to her, as if it made no difference.

Or worse, she had three days to figure out ways to tell him why it wouldn't work.

In the two years he held on to the hope that she would survive the Asphyxiatus, he also believed there was no way she would refuse what he was going to ask. He wasn't prepared for rejection but supposed he should take it like any normal adult would. Suck it up and move on.

Harry sat on his bed and perused urgent Ministry documents to keep his mind busy. Hirings, firings, transfers, assignment approvals, a proposal to restructure…

After going through a thick stack, Harry took his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes. It was way past two a.m. and his Healer would give him heck for staying up so late. He looked up and noticed someone at the door. He was relieved. She finally came.

Hermione had one of those half smiles on that always made his heart flutter. Instantly he forgot how he felt about her not coming sooner.

"I see you survived another one, Potter," Hermione said to him as she walked over to the right side of the bed.

He smiled back, put away work and made room for her to sit beside him, "You know me, hard to kill."

"How are you?" she asked as she sat down, facing him.

"A couple of horrible scars but otherwise good," Harry responded.

Hermione declared, "The reason I quit being an Auror, vanity."

"And you? Is the poison all gone?"

"Am told that I may need an occasional dose of the antidote to address what they called `sequestered factions' of the poison? It sounded very much like some internal war was raging in me."

Harry didn't doubt it, "There's always some internal war raging within you."

"True," she laughed; it was such a good sight, "It's been three days, you haven't checked yourself out. What gives?"

"I'm trying to set a good example," he explained, "How's Hugo?"

"Hugo's fine. And yeah, you told me so," Hermione grew serious, "Harry, thank you, for making sure he'd come back to me. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't."

"No need to thank me. He's my son too, remember."

"Damn it, why do I keep forgetting that?" her tone came off as joking but her eyes said something else, "So, how are you really?"

Harry frowned. Her question struck a nerve.

"Healers say I'm fine, everybody keeps telling me I look better, I'm even working to prove it," he pointed at the pile of documents on his bedside table, "I should feel fine but I don't. I've been worried. I was out for three weeks and it took you three days to come visit me. You had plenty of time to think about what I said, about us and about what this all means. I had almost given up hope that you would come."

This was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn't want to tell her how awful it was waiting for her to come so they could talk. Hermione got off the bed, taken aback by his sudden mood change, tried to interrupt, "Harry…"

Harry didn't let her. He had a Hermione-sized rant to get off his chest.

"I was hoping that telling you that I know about your deal with Death would fix everything that's not right between us, that you would finally accept that it wasn't your fault and believe that I wasn't just doing this out of guilt or for atonement or both," Harry continued, "But it didn't fix things, did it? How could it when that was not the only thing that broke. I see that now.

"But I meant what I said. I've had months to think about it. Don't you think I deserve at least one good reason why you don't want us to try again?"

He looked at her, worked up and anxious, waiting for her reply. By this time Hermione was standing a few feet away, a frown on her face.

Harry held his breath as she spoke, "I don't know what gave you the impression that I don't want us to try again. I couldn't begin to think about us and about what you said until I was sure you would wake up for it to matter, and then when I heard you did, I needed time to sort things out. But I do have plenty of reasons why we shouldn't try again. There's a list."

"A list?"

"For starters, those ghastly scars," she motioned as she approached him bedside and sat next to him but closer than before. Harry let go of the breath he had been holding. She then added more seriously, looking deeply into his eyes, touching his very soul, "There are others. It's a very long list. But the reason I took so long was because there's also a list of why we should."

They looked at each other with the love and affection he had longed to see for so long. There were tears in her eyes, not unhappy ones. He brushed them off gently with the back of his hand and held her one hand with the other.

"Name one," he wanted to hear her say it.

She said to him softly, "The fact that no matter how hard I try I can't seem to stop loving you."

He thought out loud with approval, "That's a good one."

"I think so too."

Harry wanted her to hear the words as well, "I love you the same way."

"That was a close number two on my list," she answered and made her choice official, "I agree; we should try again."

Harry took her hand up to his face and kissed it, her eyes twinkling with joy. He also saw in them a fleeting doubt, a fear that she would get hurt badly again but that was something only time together could change. His thoughts, in chaos a few minutes ago, settled.

"You agree?" he confirmed.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

Harry playfully teased, "You tortured me for three days and you actually agree?"

"You know this about me. I'm thorough, I had to sort things out," she explained, then looking very serious, although he knew she wasn't, she added, "If we are going to do this let's talk terms."

"I don't like the sound of this," Harry played along.

"I have two conditions," she sounded very official.

"Only two?"

"First of all, we're taking this slow, not like before."

Harry did his best not to laugh.

"I spent two years thinking about this moment and the moments after," Harry had to come clean, "I can't promise anything. I truly can't."

"We don't even know if we still like each other," Hermione reasoned, "Three dates before you try to get me naked, agreed?"

"What if you end up naked on your own, without my intervention?"

"Harry, I may love you but I am not that kind of woman," she was trying her best to keep a straight face and was failing miserably.

"Make that two dates and you've got a deal."

It was a lost battle for her and for him. He was already thinking about her without clothes on and her eyes had flitted down to his lips with desire as he spoke. If they weren't on public property he would have caved already. He had to temper his longing to take her into his arms right then and there.

Harry re-focused their conversation, "And what's your other condition?"

She looked at him and said simply, "We're telling family and friends."

He agreed, "That was one of mine."

Harry inched in closer. Hermione did the same.

"Do you have more?" she asked, her lips so close he could almost feel them on his.

"A lot more," he answered, "Let's talk about my terms later."

"Okay."

Their lips touched. They kissed a sweet, tender and deep kiss. It tugged at his heart and felt all kinds of right.

And after a while he made more room for her and she slipped into bed with him. They talked about his made up terms and kissed, well, they mostly kissed, until they fell asleep in each others' arms.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The next day…

Hermione was not herself. The day had gone by like a blur and she remembered nothing of consequence except for waking up next to Harry at the hospital and being firmly ushered out by his prison guard of a Healer. She didn't even get a chance to kiss him goodbye.

Admittedly, there was a lot of snogging between them until just before dawn. And yet kissing him again was all she could think about. Not particularly good when you have ten sets of eyes staring at you as you try and convince the leaders of Magical Europe that putting an IMAN somewhere in Spain was a great idea.

"Ms. Granger," Minister Greengrass interrupted, "You were saying?"

Where was I?

"Yes," she picked a spot from her presentation that looked vaguely familiar, a map, "As you can see the numbers do not lie. This part of the European Magical Community is underserviced in terms of being education. You see schools here, here and here but the regional population has grown…"

There was a commotion outside the conference room. The Aurors stood at alert as the double doors swung open.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt."

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry?

"I need Ms. Granger urgently for a life and death matter," Harry was in civvies, and looked very serious, "Ms. Granger?"

Reflexive maternal instinct surfaced instantly. Did something happen to Hugo?

She excused herself and asked one of her assistants to take over. She followed Harry into one of the smaller conference rooms.

"Is it Hugo?" she asked before he could even shut the door.

Harry turned to her and answered somewhat perplexed, "Hugo's fine. What would make you think he wasn't?"

Hermione felt like she should be upset, "Life and death matter?"

Harry realized, "Oh that. No, nothing like that."

"So, what is it?"

"All day I've been dying to do this."

In one motion he pulled her up against him and kissed her thoroughly, his lips warm and moist against hers. She matched his ardor with like passion, her arms coming around his neck to get even closer. After a while they broke their kiss, both breathless. Hermione's heart was pounding against her chest.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Not quite."

Harry kissed her again and she couldn't not kiss back. Butterflies in the stomach, mind fogging, body acutely sensitive to his touch…

Knock, knock, knock

That made them jump back.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger," it was the Minister, "Is everything okay in there?"

Define okay.

"Just another minute!" Harry answered for them.

"I should get back," she said to him, although it would take more than a minute to alter the just-snogged look she was positive she was wearing at the moment.

Harry said to her as he was leaving, "Dinner, tonight, 7, I'll pick you up."

"Should I expect any more of these `matter of life and death' visits before then?"

Harry grinned, "I will try to restrain myself but no promises."

Hermione got back into the conference room, thinking how much Harry's visit actually helped. She wasn't thinking about kissing him anymore, at least not as much.

She would see him again tonight. She couldn't wait.

Dinner at 7; a mere 3 hours away. What was she going to wear?

And Hermione spent the rest of the meeting thinking about that.

Later that night Harry was prompt. At exactly 7pm, the doorbell to Number 12 Grimmauld Place rang. Hermione opened the door and found Harry on her porch, with a bunch of freshly picked dandelions in his hand.

She invited him in and they didn't make it out to dinner that night. The dress didn't matter after all; she didn't wear it for long. She and Harry were mostly undressed by the time they reached their bedroom door.

They made sweet and passionate love on their bed, in their room, at their place, rekindling the complete intimacy of their past with an absolute affirmation of adoration.

She was his forever and he was hers. Eternally linked by a bond that would never break, nothing, not even death, could change that.

Later that night, lying in bed in his arms, her flesh still tingling from their lovemaking, she turned to the man she cherished with all her heart and looked at him. In spite of everything that happened between them she had a good feeling that this time things would work out.

Harry's eyes opened and they looked at each other. In his she saw love and contentment. He would see the same in hers.

After some time, she asked, "What are you thinking?"

He grinned, "I was thinking, it's about time you asked me that question."

"Am I that predictable?"

"I like that about you. I like the unpredictable part too," he said with mischief in his eyes, referring to why they didn't make it out to dinner.

"So, what are you thinking?" she asked him again.

Hermione sensed a subtle change. Harry was about to say something serious and she hoped it wasn't what she thought.

"Let's move in together."

Okay, good, it wasn't what she thought but still.

"Don't you think it's too soon after just one night of this?"

"You know I love you and it's not just about this."

"You're busy. I'm busy."

"I know that. We've done this before," he was quite serious, "I'm not asking you to play house with me. I want to come home to you wherever you are whatever time it is. And if you're not home am perfectly okay with just the thought that you will be coming home to me."

Harry was very convincing. Coming home to each other, she realized, was what she wanted too. She couldn't say `no' to that.

He kissed her when she said `yes' and took away whatever apprehensions she had about doing it. They decided Grimmauld. While he was no longer owner on paper it would always belong to them.

Thinking about the complicated reality outside their bedroom window didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. It was going to be an interesting journey. With Harry she always had and always would live one day at a time.

They made love again and again until they couldn't anymore. It was morning, the start of a new day, a new beginning. As sunrise peeked through the window, he held her with absolute affection and stilled her heart. She was at peace.

XXXXXXXXX

A/N. Am dying to hear how this was for you.

Lots of people to thank. I know I will miss someone if I try and attempt to mention all those who propped me up in times of doubt and never gave up on this story. Thank you so much for the reviews and the PMs.

I do want to acknowledge Books and Cleverness for keeping in touch during my `dark ages' - if not for you I wouldn't have finished. I am eternally grateful.

Epilogue…a definite maybe?

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7

-->