Having said I wasn't going to write another HP story, I find I am at a bit of a loss to explain the following. Then if I think about it, it comes from having a break in attempting to write an original piece, which is much harder than I thought it would be, revisiting Portkey, and reading a couple of the stories in the Elder Wand competition. For what it is worth this is my attempt to follow on from the last words of Deathly Hallows. The words are the same, but all is not what it appears to be.
Solomon Aegis Wiltshire 2008
Harry Potter and the Power of Love.
1. Sisterly Feelings
The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years, all was well….
There was something wrong here, but Harry could not put his finger on it.
The train whistled shrilly as it pulled out of the station.
He had watched all the children clamber onto the train, waved them goodbye with the others and now they were off to Hogwarts.
The last carriages disappeared from sight and he turned back to his friends, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were all there, standing with him on the platform.
He glanced at the large, many faced, station clock, as usual the train was away on time, the hour hand was firmly stuck on nineteen, no that wasn't right he looked again still nineteen, he shrugged his shoulders it wasn't worth bothering about it now.
They all walked together to the platform entrance passing a billboard proudly exclaiming that Mrs Miggings had nineteen varieties of pies just waiting in her shop `Miggings' Pies, Number 19 Diagon Alley'.
In the distance Harry heard the whistle of the Hogwarts Express as it headed north…. Nineee-teeeen it seemed to say to him.
What was it with this number? Nineteen, nineteen, it was stuck in his head, repeating itself over and over, and he couldn't get rid of it.
Nineteen years, nineteen days, no that wasn't it; the engine's whistle sounded again, louder this time, and that was wrong as well, the train should have been further away, not closer.
He turned to look and the train was thundering towards him.
In an instant Harry found he was tied to the track, he couldn't move…
The whistle screamed again, it could not be ignored… and this time…
Harry woke up, he was wrapped so tightly in his bed sheets that he had great difficulty in releasing his arms. Once he could move he brought a free hand down on his alarm clock, the bright red replica of the front end of the Hogwarts Express emitted one final peep of defeat and shut up. It was the most appalling alarm clock that Harry had ever owned and its banshee shriek was guaranteed to wake him but it was so mind jarring that it often became part of his waking dreams, and this last one had been a real corker.
He clambered out of bed and realised he was all hot and sweaty as well, he headed for the bathroom and divesting himself of his pyjamas stepped under the shower. The water was icy cold and he almost jumped out from under it, but he made himself stay and slowly as it began to warm Harry began to accept the start of another day.
Back in his small sitting room with a bath robe wrapped around him and a towel, working under a neat little spell Harry had picked up a day or two ago, furiously trying to dry his hair. Harry stared impotently at the calendar attached to his wall. Even though the numbers on it were quite large, they were still out of focus without his glasses, and the towel had just knocked them out of his hand. So Harry engaged in a silent battle with the towel, only winning when he retrieved his wand from the table, where he had put it, and touched it to the wildly writhing material. The towel stopped and inconveniently flopped down, completely covering his head. Harry pulled it away, muttered a few choice words at the offending bath sheet, picked up his glasses and put them on.
The number jumped out at him 19, that's what it was all about. It was the 19th of September and today was Hermione's nineteenth birthday. Well at least that was one question answered, but why was his dream filled images of husbands, wives and all those children, why the comfortable feeling of family? Then after a little thought, Harry had an answer for that as well. It was all Mrs. Weasley's fault, he remembered it as if it was yesterday, even though it was four or five months ago.
`I can see it all,' she had said, `give it time and there will be my little Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry all happily married, and bucket loads of children to keep you all busy and out of mischief.' It had been Molly's dream to see her family whole again to recover from the losses, to be better than it was before; only none of it had ever happened.
* * *
The euphoria of defeating Voldemort and his Death Eaters had lasted for several days, but the vision of the bodies of the fallen, laid out in death, returned to Harry to haunt him in nightmares worse than any Voldemort had conjured. He coped with these horrors for a week then after a particularly difficult night he decided enough was enough and without telling anyone he had run away. He cared nothing for the concern he caused in some quarters, his mind was in turmoil, and he craved no company but his own. It took Kingsley Shacklebolt a month to find him, and every ounce of his persuasive powers to convince Harry to return.
Harry slipped quietly back into the wizarding world and took his place in the ranks of the aurors. His outward mask of normality was a fragile thing indeed, and the only way he found he could cope was to throw himself whole heartedly into his work. He ploughed his very essence into his job to the exclusion of everything else, and much to Ginny's distress this exclusion included her as well. She had hoped that now he was back they could forget the problems of the past and start again, but Harry became so single minded that he was oblivious of her, and of all his other friends. It was only quite by chance that he discovered that Hermione was not even in the country.
Early in August, a few days after his eighteenth birthday that had passed with no celebration, Harry bumped into Ron in the Leaky Cauldron. Ron was helping George with the joke shop, with no Fred; George was having a hard time of it.
"She's gone off to Australia to sort out her parents," Ron said, somewhat reluctantly, after Harry asked about Hermione. "I think she felt a bit bad, acting the way she did toward them. She feels now that perhaps they would have understood." He shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows?"
Who knows indeed, and now it was September and for Harry the events of last May were being given some form of perspective, slowly he was getting over it.
Harry ate a lonely breakfast and wondered if the owl he had sent to Hermione a few days before had managed to find her. He worked on the principle that although he didn't know where she was, a letter addressed simply to Hermione Granger, Australia, would reach her. Hedwig had found Sirius with no more instructions when he was in hiding; Harry hoped the regular post owls were just as clever, but he wasn't sure.
Harry had met Ron twice since that first chance meeting back in July and on neither occasion had his best friend mentioned hearing from their other best friend. Perhaps all was not well between the two of them but Harry was wise enough not to push the subject of girlfriends too much because he was aware that he had been a little rough on Ginny and he did not want Ron to get all on his high horse. Ron and Hermione were old enough to sort out their own problems; Harry would leave it to them…..
* * *
"No Harry, keep your wand higher than that, it will steady your aim," Kingsley suggested.
Harry tried again following the Chief Auror's advice and each bolt of magic sped unerringly to its mark. Although inducted directly into the auror ranks, Harry was the first to admit that he was not as well prepared as he could be, and so he was partaking in some on the job training in the finer points of his profession. It was hard work but it was paying off.
Kingsley Shacklebolt watched Harry with measured concern. He was stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place, he needed all these youngsters to bolster his forces but it was pointless pushing the less able into the front ranks, he would lose them far too quickly, however for one new recruit he made an exception. He used Harry mercilessly, relying not just on his skill but also for the fear his name had on some of Voldemort's remaining associates.
Twice the presence of the chosen one and the mention of Harry's name alone had averted an all out fight, the dark wizards preferring to test the mercy of the ministry rather than face the certain death they imagined that Harry Potter would hand out. Harry himself wasn't proud that in this he had become some strange mirror image of his old nemesis but he had the sense to realise that the saving of any life was worth a little discomfort.
A week after his Hogwarts Express dream and so, it would follow, the same time after Hermione's birthday, Harry arrived home after a hard day at the Ministry to find a rather strange bird hopping about on his doorstep. It was quite large and had a rather fearsome looking straight and pointed beak. It also sounded as if it had just heard the funniest joke in the world as its raucous laughter rolled up and down the street and echoed off the surrounding buildings. That it was a post bird was evident, as there was a tightly wound scroll attached to its leg. Taking some care not to end up impaled on the kookaburra's beak Harry gingerly removed the parchment. The bird looked at Harry with a knowing stare then began to laugh at yet another unheard joke. Mid- laugh the kookaburra leapt into the air, took flight and was soon lost in the cloudy skies.
Harry dropped down into his most comfortable armchair and unrolled the parchment, it was, as he had thought, a letter from Hermione written in her tight, neat, hand.
Dear Harry,
Thanks for the birthday wishes, and I belatedly return them, (sorry things down here have been a bit hectic.) It is nice to hear from home occasionally, and to find out what is going on, yours is the first letter I have received in months.
It has been much harder to de-modify my Mum and Dad than I ever imagined, but a local witch put me in touch with someone who helped me out and now they are fine. To say they were cross with me would be a bit of an understatement, but in the end they realised it was all done with the best intentions.
Fortunately they have fallen in love with Oz, as they call it now, and are intent on staying. For that reason and that there is little to make me want to return to England I shall be staying as well, and will be very busy.
Professor Pindari, the person who helped me with mum and dad, is from the Myalla at Uluru; I understand it's their version of Hogwarts and he has asked if I would like to go there. There is a magic here that is so old and different to ours, it will be fascinating to study. It will give me a chance to catch up on everything we missed out on last year, who knows I might even get to take some of their exams! (That I know won't interest you!)
Please be very careful Harry I could not bear to hear that you had come to harm, I miss you too much already and we are only separated by distance.
Write from time to time,
Lots of Love
Hermione.
P.S. If you happen to see Ron, give him my best wishes, maybe if things had worked out differently, oh well who knows.
H.
Harry read the letter again and again, he imagined her speaking the words it was a comforting feeling. He frowned at the last lines; it was clear from the post-script that Hermione's feelings for Ron had cooled. Harry had surmised as much in his few brief conversations with Ron now this only served to confirm it. Still whatever was going on between the two of them one thing was very obvious, she wasn't coming home, and unaccountably that made Harry very sad. Unaccountable because what he wanted most for his friends was for them to be happy and it seemed that Hermione was, but having said that he wasn't prepared for her to be happy 12,000 miles away. It was on the other side of the world, as far away as she could be, and although he hadn't seen her in the last four months, he was suddenly very lonely for her company.
As September dragged into October and then November Harry thought a lot about Hermione's letter, it was the only one he had received, although he had written twice to her no replies were forthcoming. Was she just too busy? Or didn't she want to get involved in long distance correspondence with someone who reminded her too much of her past? Harry didn't believe either of those, and he began to worry that something might have happened to her. He was worried enough to confront Ron on the subject of his girlfriend.
"I know it's none of my business Ron," Harry had managed to catch the junior partner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the shop one Saturday afternoon, "but how is it with you and Hermione?"
Ron stopped unpacking the carton of Jumping Jelly Beans, `Hard to catch and harder to swallow' and stared intently at something on the floor that Harry could see wasn't really there. "Um…" Ron considered his answer, "it's not."
"Not?"
"No, not." And Ron drew a deep breath, "If you must know we had a row."
"Well there's a surprise," thought Harry.
"A big one" continued Ron, as if Harry had not interrupted, which of course he hadn't. "And it sort of ended there."
"Oh," said Harry, "was the disagreement about anything in particular?" He suddenly had one of those feelings that his question had opened a whole new can of worms.
Ron turned to look Harry straight in the eye, "Yes as a matter of fact it was; it was about you."
"Oh… sorry," he did not know what else to say.
"It was when you did the big disappearing trick, which had the ministry, well Shacklebolt, running around in circles trying to find where you had gone. Hermione wanted to join the hunt, she was beside herself with worry for you," Ron tried to look a little sheepish, but merely succeeded in looking defiant. "I thought she was too worried for someone with whom her feelings were supposed to be sisterly."
"You were jealous?"
"Yeah, big time, and I wouldn't let it go… couldn't," admitted Ron, "So one row lead to another, and we said some pretty awful things to each other. That was when I realised it wasn't going to work and, I think, so did she. Then you reappeared in Shacklebolt's pocket and she knew you were ok, so off she went to her mum and dad. I haven't heard from her since then."
Harry looked sadly at his best friend, "I'm really sorry Ron."
Ron gave Harry a wry smile, "Don't be, I'm not, well not any more. It was hard for a while but I am over her now, plenty more fish in the sea as they say, and," he nodded his head toward a blonde haired witch that had entered the shop, "that is the one I am trying to land at the moment." Ron stood, and the blonde seeing him came over, and putting her arms around his neck, kissed him soundly. "And I think I am doing ok," he added, once he had surfaced again. The girl in his arms gave Ron a questioning look, at what to her appeared a very random statement, and Ron grinned at her. "Steph?" he asked, "I don't think you have met my best mate, have you?" He poked Harry in the chest by way of introduction. "This is him, Harry Potter."
If Harry was surprised that Ron could be so cavalier over losing Hermione, he didn't show it. He knew well the stresses and strains that war puts on the heart and even though Ron had succeeded with her right at the end having spent the majority of his time at Hogwarts trying to cultivate the romance, it hadn't lasted. Harry had thought that they would all have been drawn together, victors of a common cause, and yet, it seemed, the opposite had occurred, relationships had flown apart, and that brought Ginny back into his thoughts.
Harry remembered seeing her with Molly in the Great Hall; he remembered his hopes, the time they would have to talk, `days' maybe years'. It ended up being hours and it was very difficult for the both of them. Perhaps they had tried too soon after the battle; she was still consumed with grief and that transferred to Harry as guilt. Harry now knew that this was where it all started to go wrong, his slide downwards, until he could take it no more and had run. He wondered how she was coping now, so many months later. Ron, in their few meetings, had kept off the subject of his sister as well, much to Harry's relief, but now he needed to know, because until he had the chance to see her again he wasn't sure how he felt… he wasn't sure how she felt.
* * *
It wasn't hard for Harry to find out when the next Hogsmead weekend was scheduled for the students at Hogwarts; it wasn't all that long to wait and he assumed that Ginny would go. He decided that it would be better to see her in the village than in the Castle itself, the memories held within those walls were still too strong.
Now he was an auror with six months experience, Harry had the sitting quietly hidden from sight, waiting and observing every detail parts of his profession down pat. He watched as the students began to tumble out of the school gates filled with excitement for the last pre-Christmas Hogsmead weekend, and his assumption that the youngest Weasley would not miss out on the opportunity was proved correct. There she was, walking slowly, on her own, head down with her long red hair cascading down her back; …Harry wondered… She looked up and now he could see her face, she was so beautiful, just as he remembered, but there was sadness in her expression, and Harry felt that sadness tug at his heart, he almost stepped toward her, when there was a shout from someone still inside the school grounds.
"Ginny wait up!" she stopped and a secret sort of smile touched her lips; she turned to face the boy who was running to catch up. He was good looking, dark haired, and fit, by the way he was covering the ground; he was also a Ravenclaw. His blue and silver scarf flew out behind him as he ran, then he slowed, and stopped, to stand in front of Ginny Weasley. She stood quite still while they had a hushed conversation, then the boy put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her toward him and whispered something in her ear. Harry couldn't hear her reply but he saw the small nod of her head in assent. The lad's reaction was instantaneous, his arms slipped down to her waist and gripping her tight, lifted her off her feet and swung her round and around. Ginny grabbed him around the neck and kissed him firmly on the lips, an action that brought forth a few ribald remarks from other passing students. Harry could see the two of them standing together each smiling inanely at the other, then very deliberately the Ravenclaw scarf was removed and then rewrapped around a Gryffindor neck.
Harry didn't dare move as the pair; arm in arm, passed by his hiding place, Ginny's light musical voice was full of happiness. The words she spoke didn't matter to Harry, it was all in the tone, and in response, deep inside him a switch was thrown, and a weight he didn't know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders.
* * *
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