Unofficial Portkey Archive

Shadow Walker

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time.

-Bonnie Tyler, "Total Eclipse of the Heart"

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"And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears. And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears." -Mumford and Sons, "After the Storm"

Consciousness crashed over Hermione like the crest of a wave, and when she surfaced, she sucked in a noisy breath, eyes flying open and arms flailing wildly. She let out an almost surprised grunt of pain when her movements sent a sharp flare up her rib cage into her shoulder.

"Easy there…" soothed a voice in a lilting Irish brogue. She squinted against the reflection of the overhead light against the stark whiteness of the hospital room.

"Seamus? Where - where are Vega and Harry? Is she okay? Where's Malfoy?"

"Slow down; slow down there, Time Traveler. Vega's fine. Baby's fine. Harry's with her; she's getting checked out by a Healer - just precautionary. Malfoy's in custody waiting on you. Believe me, he's not going anywhere."

"I'm not a Time Traveler," Hermione replied petulantly, narrowing her eyes at his easy grin and subsequent whatever shrug. "What happened to me?"

"Well, aside from your harebrained idea to Apparate yourself through a hole in a ward - you're lucky you didn't lose your entire arm, by the way! - looks like Malfoy grazed you with Sectumsempra." Hermione's hand drifted across her torso to touch the thick pad of bandages that ran the full length of her side. She couldn't feel her other arm at all. "That was touch-and-go. The Blood Replenishing potions had trouble keeping up. The Splinching took out some of your muscle, nearly to the bone at the deeper end. The Repair work was complicated. It's - it's going to be a while before you're able to use your arm properly again." Seamus crimped his lips together sympathetically, a look of apology in his eyes.

"Is Harry mad?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"Vega'll talk him down," was Seamus' answer: a confirmation without outright saying so.

"Why are you in here? Shouldn't you be guarding Malfoy?"

"There are two Aurors on him, two of our best. You'll know Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley?"

"Of course!" Hermione uttered automatically.

"'Of course,' she says," Seamus echoed in a sarcastic way. "Well, no worries on that front, anyway. You know," he added, with a satisfied smirk, "The Prophet calls the four of us Aurors, the ones who were in the first Auror class out of the War - they've called us the - "

There was a perfunctory knock that didn't wait for an answer, and suddenly Harry was in her room. His cloak was still torn and dirty from the altercation, and his hair was on end.

"You call that a knock?" flew from Hermione's mouth before she could stop herself, and then she winced at her inopportune timing, as Harry rounded on her.

"You. You're going to scold me for barging in a room, after - after what you did?"

Hermione felt defensive, even as she understood why Harry was feeling somewhat unhinged.

"What I recall is that I was the one incapacitating Lucius Malfoy, instead of the two Aurors on site." Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I told Vega not to go. I knew it was a bad idea. She wouldn't have gone if you hadn't - if you hadn't planted the bloody idea in her head in the first place!"

Hermione wilted as quickly as she'd bristled to fight. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm sure you were terrified for her, and I had no intention of putting either of you in that position… and she's - they're both okay, right?"

"Vega and Lily are fine," Harry admitted, appearing almost reluctant to voice the fact that he was upset over what might have happened, rather than what had actually occurred. Hermione let a real smile waft across her face, and she met his gaze squarely.

"I'm glad. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if anything had happened." She swung her legs toward the side of the bed, pushing the sheet out of the way, and struggling to rise using only her good arm. "Now, when can I take my prisoner, and be on my way? I'm sure you'll be thrilled to see the last of me."

"Easy there, Time Traveler," Seamus interjected, even as the nausea and pain began to surge over her. "You're not going anywhere today."

"I'm not waiting until tomorrow!" Hermione was incensed at the delay, even while spots were dancing in her vision.

"Splinching and Dark Curse wounds aren't so easily Healed as all that. You're going to have to be a little more patient."

"Somehow, I don't think that's an inherent quality she possesses," Harry snorted, but he came to her bedside, and gently repositioned both her and the bedsheet. "Malfoy is going to be guarded by either myself or someone I trust implicitly. You don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," Hermione lied unconvincingly. "I just want to get this done." Harry arched an eyebrow of patent disbelief at her, and she flushed, amazed that he could read her as easily as he had, with no history of closeness or friendship between them. Then again, she supposed her desperate need to finish this once and for all had made her somewhat more transparent than was usual for her.

"You're not going anywhere, until the Healer has evaluated you in the morning." Harry's voice had a concerned undertone, but his eyes were implacable. "I'll station someone outside your door, if I need to."

"You always were high-handed," Hermione muttered, sinking back into the pillows, knowing he meant what he said. Her arm was starting to throb, a dull, steady thrum , and her side felt like it had been laid open and then bathed in acid. Something flickered in Harry's gaze, a bemused wonderment that she knew him, but he could not return the favor.

"Something tells me you're routinely this stubborn, as well." She shot a baleful look at him, but appeared to concede his point.

"I just want to go home," she finally said, emotion and fatigue and pain clouding her dark eyes. She let the euphoria of that single word wash over her: soothing and comfortable, yet breath-taking with newness. She had somewhere to go, a place to belong. She missed Harry and Ron. She had Harry and Ron, and it had been so long since she could say that with any grain of truth. She thought of him, of his clouded eyes that still saw her, still recognized a kindred spirit; she thought of his arms around her, his mouth yearning and eager on hers. She wanted…

"This is so weird." Harry's voice broke into her thoughts, and he arched an eyebrow at her, looking for all the world like he had front row Legilimency for everything she'd just been thinking. She felt a flush begin to creep into her face. How the hell could he read her so accurately? He didn't even know her. "I wouldn't have thought - I mean, the fact that another me knows another you… in another life. It shouldn't affect us, here and now. And yet…" He cocked his head at her, squinting as though he dimly recognized her from somewhere. "I wonder if there`s a universe where I finally gave in and just throttled you…"

A laugh leapt from Hermione's mouth unbidden. Harry slanted a reprovingly amused look back at her, not exactly smiling, though something had lightened in his eyes.

"Is Vega… I mean, will she…? I'd go to her, but - "

"She wanted to see you, before you left. I'll make sure she comes by."

"Harry, I - I never meant to - "

He rolled his eyes at her, a gesture that so reminded her of one she might have made herself, that it was startling. "I know," he admitted, albeit reluctantly. One hand lifted, as though he might have stroked it over her matted curls. Instead, he ran it through his already disheveled hair, and sighed, a deeply tired sound that raised and dropped both shoulders. "Get some rest. Leave Malfoy to us."

She relaxed against her flat hospital-issue pillow, and watched Harry cross in front of her bed to speak with Seamus, murmuring in a voice to low for her to distinguish individual words. The slicing pain in her arm had dwindled back down to a dull, steady throb. She was asleep before Harry had even exited the room.

***

There were fell voices in her dreams. Fierce winds lashed at her clothing and her hair; she had to squint her eyes against the force of it. Hands grabbed at her; Harry's voice called for her; she couldn't hold on. Was that her mother's sob? It was all ripped away in a maelstrom of fury, as if the multiverse itself had turned against her. And above it all, she could hear Malfoy's patrician laugh.

She woke with a start, not realizing the murmur of voices had followed her into consciousness, until her eyes opened and a stab of pain in her arm and side arrested further movement. Vega, Seamus, and Harry stood near the door, quietly conversing. The Irish Auror looked rumpled, as though he'd slept in his uniform, but Vega and Harry were in different clothes.

Hermione's throat was dry; she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Even so, something must have snagged Vega's attention, for she looked suddenly in Hermione's direction. Her mouth moved. She's awake.

Hermione reached for the glass of water on her bedside table, pushing herself into more of a sitting position despite the pain that made her see stars. Vega, moving surprisingly quickly for her cumbersome size, handed her the water with a chiding, "Hermione…"

"I'm taking him today," Hermione croaked, after a couple of swallows.

"You need to let the Healer determine that," Harry pointed out gruffly, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm taking him today," she repeated stolidly.

"You can barely move!"

"I'll take a potion."

"Then you'll be impaired."

"One that just takes the edge off then!" Hostility crackled between them. "I rested. Just as you asked." Sarcasm heavily laced the last word. "I'm taking the prisoner and we're going back. Today."

"Then I'm going through with you."

"Like hell you are!"

"Those are my terms."

"This isn't a negotiation!" Her voice was blistering. Vega and Seamus were watching the back-and-forth as if it were a Quidditch match with particularly adept Chasers.

"Shall I just call a Mediwitch in here then? You seem agitated. Some Dreamless Sleep might do you good."

"You unmitigated arse!" Hermione felt such a strong desire to do him bodily harm that her fingers actually curled into claws, tangling in her sheets. If he'd just step a little closer, she might be able to manage a kick… in an unfortunate place, too.

"Harry, for Merlin's sake, stop antagonizing her. I've never known anyone but Percy Weasley to make you this… irritable," his wife remonstrated gently. Harry's smirk became an open grin, when he noticed Hermione's flare of annoyance at being compared to Percy. "Hermione, let him go with you. This type of thing is his job anyway. The Nexus is perfectly safe; he'll be back here in thirty minutes. You get to take… the prisoner… today, and Harry gets to satisfy himself that you'll be all right." Hermione cut her eyes over at Harry, as if she very much doubted that Harry cared at all whether she was all right, but Vega continued brightly, "You both win."

"Hmph," Harry grunted, his eyes glinting with fondness. "Somehow, I think you win, O Wife of Mine and Daughter of Slytherins." He spoke the last part in a teasing mockery of a royal address. Vega's only response was a complacent smile that bespoke her agreement with her husband's assessment.

"Vega," Hermione rasped, reaching out her good arm to lightly touch Vega's. "I'm so sorry… for putting you in that situation. In your condition. I had no right…"

"All's well that ends well, right?" Vega said lightly, shrugging. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she shot him a quelling look. "I'd make the same decision again. I'm glad we could help you, and I'm fine. The baby's fine. And you've extricated a criminal and an impostor from our lives. And now, you can go home to your Harry." Her eyes were misty as she and her husband exchange a glance of such tenderness that it made Hermione's heart ache.

My Harry, she thought wistfully. They helped her sit up, as a Mediwitch bustled in, clucking her tongue over Hermione's decision to leave.

"We can't unbind the arm, dear," she said, in a Molly Weasley way. "It's been specially charmed. And if you get hit with any spellfire…" The implications were clearly dire, though unspoken.

"She'll be with me. I won't let anything happen to her," Harry assured the nurse.

"Just - just immobilize the whole thing," Hermione said. "Strap it to me or something. Sometimes, it can be a rather rough ride." As the Mediwitch handed her two different potions to take, Harry gave her instructions.

"You'll be holding my wand as well. Keep only one of them out. Stay out of arm's reach of Malfoy. He'll be Stunned, but stranger things have happened." His wife neatly transfigured Hermione's hospital garb into a shirt and jeans, and Summoned a knapsack that contained - Hermione assumed - her other things. Her panicked hand flew to her breastbone, but the multiverse crystal was there, had been there all along. She had grown so accustomed to its presence that she didn't even notice it anymore. "I'll go through with you, see him safely into the Veil, and return home."

"Sounds easy…" she said, smiling tremulously at them. Some kind of material leapt through the air and began wrapping itself around her midsection, binding her arm against her torso in the last position it had been in, with her palm near her sternum. She groped for the railing of the bed, as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Her arm and side were agony.

"Give those potions about five more minutes, and you shouldn't be hurting as much," the Mediwitch instructed gently.

Hermione thanked her, and gingerly clambered down from the bed. She nodded to Seamus, and allowed Vega to wrap her in a careful hug.

"I'm so pleased to have met you!" She whispered in such a warm way that Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"See you round, Time Traveler," Seamus winked. Harry pressed a kiss to his wife's temple and murmured something in her ear. Love you. Be back in a bit.

"Thank you both… so much." It seemed woefully inadequate, but it was all Hermione could manage, as she followed Harry out of the room.

****

The Nexus was the same cool cavern humming with activity and glowing with soft, almost electronic light. She and Harry had made their way down from some kind of Special Priority Auror Entrance, with Lucius Malfoy bobbing along behind them, and had only just stuck their heads in the door, when Luna approached, seemingly having sensed their entrance.

"Oh," Luna said, in a thoroughly unsurprised tone. "You got him." Her eyes flicked to Hermione's useless arm, the white wrappings glowing against the green shirt Vega had produced. "But not before he got you, apparently. Good Morning, Harry."

"H'lo, Luna," he responded with casual affection. "I'm going to take her through, if you don't mind."

"That is not our jurisdiction. She arrived in the Room of Judgment. We can go there now, and you may leave whenever you wish." She made a motion as if to follow them through the door, but arrested it abruptly. "Half a moment." She glided away, her heavy cloak billowing behind her, as she melted into the shadows.

Mere seconds later, she was back, and as they crossed the corridor to the room with the veil, she pressed something - two small vials of something - into Hermione's hand, the long draping sleeve of her cloak concealing the movement. Hermione darted a questioning look at her, but Luna's expression was serene and unchanged.

"You wouldn't have had a chance before. You'll know when you need them."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, her eyebrows dark angles over confused eyes, but Luna gestured toward Harry. "It's time for you to go." Harry had swiveled the elder Malfoy so that he was hovering in a more vertical direction, and Hermione could not help the ripple of unease that washed over her as she approached them. She pulled the chain out from under her shirt, Extending it as she went, and handed it to Harry, who ducked beneath it and then flung it over Lucius' head.

Hermione said the incantation, and the rushing wind rose from a hiss to a roar. The injured side of her body was pulsing with a dull ache. Almost there.

"Be right back, Luna!" Harry called above the noise. A wisp of a smile flitted daintily across the Unspeakable's face.

"You always are."

****

The trip was once again rougher, as it seemed to be when there was a specific destination as the target, turning their movement into the hurtling of a bullet, rather than a lazier meandering as through slow-moving water. Hermione staggered , as the whirling stopped, colliding sideways into Harry, and unable to stop the cry of pain that came with the contact. Harry kept her from falling, though he didn't have enough warning to be gentle, and watched her with a concerned face.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine," she lied, trying not to gasp. She took a brief moment to steady herself against him before moving away. Lucius Malfoy still hovered serenely in their small circle, and she felt ill at ease in his shadow.

"You're back," Luna's smooth voice was matter of fact. "I'll let Harry and Ron know. They've been camping out in the antechamber since you left. I offered them a tent. I don't know why they wouldn't take it. Camping is ever so much more comfortable, if one has a tent." She glided toward the door noiselessly from her position beyond them, and Hermione noticed that she was in traditional Chinese dress, complete with silk slippers and ornamental chopsticks in her hair.

"Are you in disguise again?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

"Oh no, not today. I'm never in disguise on Thursday," was Luna's departing comment as she exited the room.

Harry and Ron were in the doorway just moments later. Harry's face was alive with both expectation and apprehension, and Ron's arm was cupped discreetly around Harry's elbow.

"Hermione?"

"I'm - I'm here," she managed, relief at the sight of him all but choking her. Even that small admission was enough for him to gauge her position, and he made a move as if he would have plunged across the room toward her. But Ron's hand tightened around his arm, and he murmured something that sounded like,

"Easy, mate. She's hurt."

Fear flooded Harry's face. "How badly? She's standing up. Is someone holding her up?"

"I'm standing. It's -it's not so bad, really. Got myself a bit Splinched is all."

The Harry who had accompanied her snorted. "A bit Splinched! Is that what you call - ?" He froze at the fire in Hermione's eyes. Harry and Ron had stilled as well, both of them clearly recognizing the voice, as Ron noticed his presence in the room for the first time.

"There's another… me… in here?"

Ron's low, disbelieving, "Bloody hell," was apparently convincing. Harry's sightless eyes darted from where he'd heard his own voice to where he'd heard Hermione's.

Hermione had started toward Harry, moving as carefully as she could. The stiff way she was walking was starting to send a dull ache up her back and the side of her neck.

"We got him, Harry. We got Lucius Malfoy, and we're ready to send him through the Veil." Her voice was uneven; she was out of breath from crossing the room, and he frowned.

"You - you got Splinched?" Harry refused to be sidetracked, even by such momentous news as that.

"Splinched half the muscle out of her upper arm going through a ward. Then got hit with Sectumsempra on top of that," the other Harry supplied helpfully. The atmosphere in the room grew grim. No one had to ask who had hit Hermione with the Dark spell.

"Would you shut up… please?" Hermione all but shrieked at him.

"Why?" he answered back hotly. "Were you going to do him a disservice by keeping it a secret and hoping he wouldn't notice that you were hurt?"

"I was going to try to keep him from worrying unnecessarily about me."

"Well, that's the foundation to a healthy relationship."

"Oh… go back to your own universe!" Hermione snapped. Ron snorted.

"Good luck with this one, mate," Harry addressed his counterpart, still standing stunned at Hermione's side. "She's going to make you gray before you're forty." He sketched a smirking bow back in her direction. "If it's all the same to you, I'll believe I'll wait until Malfoy's been… dispatched. The more Aurors the better, in this situation, wouldn't you say?" He nodded at Ron in a comradely fashion. Hermione stewed. So damn cocky.

The silken material of Luna's clothing made a sinuous noise that heralded her arrival back into the room, accompanied by another hooded Unspeakable, one several inches taller than she and positively drowning in swaths of material.

"This is Caledfryn," she introduced, with a floaty hand gesture. "He's helping with the transfer attempt today. If you're sure you want to try it," she tacked on, looking inquiringly at Hermione.

Harry had not yet touched her, and she realized belatedly that he did not know on what side she was injured. She reached out and gripped his hand tightly, rejoicing to feel the answering squeeze of his fingers.

"I'm sure." The pad of Harry's thumb brushed across the uneven surface of her knuckles. "This is going to work," she whispered, as an aside to him.

"Please… please don't - don't not tell me things." He spoke clumsily, but with a beseeching note in his voice. Just a day or two ago, he would have gone storming from the room, she thought. Doing him a disservice is exactly right. A wave of shame washed over her.

"You're right," she replied softly. "I'm sorry." Using their joined hands, he gingerly pulled her closer to him, and kissed her, carefully and reverently.

"I'll be waiting right here," he said, and the bravado in his voice was almost believable.

"Caledfryn, if you'll generate the null magic field here," Luna's voice managed to be ethereal and businesslike at the same time. "Harry, Levitate Malfoy over here as soon as he's done." Hermione had already disentangled her hand from Harry's, and moved in their direction.

A tight ball of translucent light, glowing a shiny orange, expanded outward from the tip of Caledfryn's wand as he raised it above his head. Hermione felt the pressure in the room change, as if her ears needed to pop, yet couldn't. She swallowed ineffectually. The field grew until it looked like it could encompass two or three people, remaining open on one side, where Caledfryn still held his wand.

"Ms. Granger, if you will," he said, in a surprisingly resonant voice, gesturing with his free hand for her to enter the field. "Oh, not with your wands," he added. She looked stupidly toward her pocket; she'd forgotten she was even carrying her wand… and Harry's. That Auror stepped up quickly, and relieved her of both wands; a smile flitted across his face, but his eyes were serious.

She stepped into the field, and immediately felt assailed by curious sensations. Her senses were muffled; her movements seemed slower and less sure. She felt like she wouldn't be able to take a full breath if she tried, so she did not try. She didn't want to start panicking.

"What you're feeling is normal," Luna told her, apparently able to recognize the frantic look on her face. "Breathe as normally as you can. Try to remain very still." Across the room, Ron was whispering in Harry's ear. She guessed that he was giving his friend a play-by-play.

At Caledfryn's nod, the other Harry lofted Lucius Malfoy through the opening, and the Unspeakable closed the field, snapping his wand toward the floor and jerking it backwards, as if severing a connection. The smothering feeling increased. Luna and Caledfryn were both incanting now, wands aimed at the bubble enclosing her and Malfoy, but she could not hear them. The air inside the field felt heavy and dead.

Breathe normally, breathe normally, breathe normally.

Lucius' eyes opened, pupils dilated to blackness. Their eyes met.

Harry! She shrieked inwardly, trying to gasp in a capacity that she no longer possessed. Malfoy must have tried to breathe too, and was panicking. He dropped to his knees, mouth open; he might have been screaming, but she could not hear it.

He's not suffocating, she realized suddenly. Something gracefully and brightly rendered was emerging in the air in front of him. A rune. His Constant. My Constant. She felt a smile begin to curl her lips. She wished Harry could see her. It's going to work.

The satisfaction was ripped from her, almost before she could feel it.

It was replaced with pain.

It fired in her head, whining into a frequency that somehow was coming from inside of her. It was like every nerve ending being on fire, carved from her body. It was worse than Cruciatus, infinitely, almost unfathomably worse. She wanted to curl in on herself, perhaps smash her head into blessed unconsciousness.

Try to remain very still.

Time lost meaning. The English language lost all meaning. She was no longer aware of the null field around her, the Chamber of the Veil, the smooth hard floor beneath her feet, nothing but how much she hurt.

I am going to die.

She thought that she was sorry about that. Even though she couldn't quite remember why.

Hermione! Hermione, listen to me!! It was Harry's voice. The Harry she'd known long ago; the Harry who'd warned her mother, who'd saved her life. Your pocket! It's in your pocket!

You wouldn't have had a chance before. You'll know when you need them.

You'll know when you need them.

Hermione, now!! It was Harry's voice again, desperate, blisteringly pleading.

Her ears were roaring; her vision had grayed out. And yet she groped toward where her pocket should be with nerveless fingers. Were there vials in her hand? She flipped off corks by muscle memory alone, one, two… She should have heard the crisp pop of seals breaking, but there was nothing. She lifted her arm - at least, her brain was telling her arm to lift - and knocked back the vials that the other Luna had given her.

You'll know when you need them.

It shouldn't have worked. How could Luna have possibly known?

Yet, it did work. She felt cool relief slowly flooding her system, as sensation was restored. The pain ebbed, swirling and dwindling, as if down a drain. She could breathe again; her vision begin to fade back in. She swallowed; her throat was sore. Sound returned, and with it, a lot of yelling and general clamor, topped off by a persistent, tinny ringing in her ears. Reflexively, as if she'd been startled, she dropped the empty potions containers, and they shattered on the floor.

Pain washed over her again, and she realized that someone was touching her, holding on to her, gripping her, as if she were his lifeline. The person apparently cottoned on to the fact that he was hurting her, at about the same time that she realized it. She blinked, and Harry's frantic face came into focus. He released his hold on her right arm.

"Oh, God, I've hurt you. I'm so sorry, Hermione, I forgot, I couldn't bear - I thought you - the way - you were screaming - I thought I'd - " lost you. She took in the utter terror on his face. He had thought he was going to go through this again. He had lost Vega, and then her, only days after she had convinced him to open his heart. She felt her face crumple with the force of how much she loved him.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It was - it was bad, worse than I thought it would be. But I'm here now. And we're going to be okay." She lifted her good hand to caress his damp cheek, and he leaned his forehead into hers.

"I love you," he whispered, so softly that it barely registered.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she teased.

"You heard me." There was casual arrogance in his voice, but that was belied by the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She tilted her head up to kiss him, but just as his mouth welcomed hers, Luna interrupted them.

"It's been several days since I've interrupted anyone's tete-a-tete, but Hermione, we'd like to get a look at your magical signature now, so we can make sure everything is as it should be." There was a tone in Luna's voice that made Hermione spear her with a piercing look, but the Unspeakable's face was as bland and unreadable as ever.

You wouldn't have had a chance before. You'll know when you need them.

How much did Luna know? This Luna? All Lunas?

Hermione shook her head to clear the cobwebs. "Sure, Luna," she said. "I'd like to know for sure myself." Luna extracted the runes of Hermione's signature, and they wrote themselves in the air before them, glowing brightly. Luna pulled out Caledfryn's as well, for comparison, and Hermione felt a brilliant, beaming smile break out across her face when her Constant was a perfect match.

"It worked!" she breathed, ecstatic.

"We're ready over here!" Ron called, snagging everyone's attention.

The null field was gone. Ron and the other Harry were flanking the Veil, as they moved Lucius Malfoy in front of it. Someone who looked like a bureaucrat from the MLE department was documenting the proceedings with quill and scroll. Luna and Caledfryn had moved a little ways apart, looking over a long furl of parchment together.

"Proceed," the MLE official ordered. Her quill moved of its own volition across the scroll.

There was no pomp or circumstance, or anything other than a grim attendance to duty. Harry turned toward the Veil, the set of his shoulders and spine rigid. Hermione laced her fingers through his. Ron and the other Harry directed him into the Veil; there was a flutter of the curtains, a whistling of distant wind, and then it was over. Ron looked over at them, and nodded once.

"It's done," she whispered.

"For Vega." Harry looked as if he were a million miles away. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and echoed,

"For Vega."

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