Chapter 2
Endings and Beginnings
Harry had not slept for at least forty-eight hours and to be honest he could not have told you if the first or the last twenty-four were the worst. The fight with Voldemort, now it was over, paled into insignificance when compared to the problem with Hermione. Certainly that is the way his sub-conscious mind saw it. His dreams were not filled with the nightmarish figures of Voldemort and Belatrix Lestrange but of a foggy expanse of nothing where his best friend wandered aimlessly, calling out, searching for the memories which eluded her. He struggled to find a solution, to help her, but as is usual with dreams the answer was always just out of his reach.
Surprisingly for someone with so few memories to mull over Hermione fell asleep with a slightly troubled mind, there were questions to be asked and answers to be given. The words she had overheard slipping almost guiltily by the partly open door had confirmed what she already thought might be the case, Harry did love her, but he hid that love; now why would he do that? Perhaps there were others involved, was there a chance that she didn't return that love, and if not, why?
Her dreams came thick and fast, so many thoughts struggling to get out, so many memories banished by that spell but not really gone, flashed through her mind. Some were happy and full of laughter, some so dark that the fear of them made her whimper in her sleep but behind all of them was one face. That face sometimes mirrored the fears and happiness that she was feeling but regardless of that, it was always there, comforting in its presence. Only as she began to awake, did the face of Harry Potter begin to change as freckles began to appear on his nose and his hair began to take on a slight red tinge. Hermione opened her eyes and the myriad of dream memories vanished she was left only with the image of Harry's face undergoing a strange transformation into that of another.
She heard a sound from the main study, Harry was already awake and up. She clambered out of the bed and grabbed a light blue dressing gown, covered in a pattern of golden stars and moons, from a nearby chair. It was much too big for her. Only by bunching it up and fixing it with the waist cord could she manage to walk in it at all. With the back of the dressing gown dragging on the floor, she made her way into the study. Harry saw her as she pulled the door fully open and smiled, there was something very vulnerable about the way she looked, overwrapped in what must be one of Dumbledore's old gowns. Definitely Dumbledore's, he told himself, he certainly could never imagine Severus Snape in something so gaudy.
"Morning," he greeted her, "Kreacher brought some breakfast, come and have some." A fresh tray of tea, toast and marmalade was sitting on the table. Hermione noticed that Harry was holding a piece of parchment covered in purple writing as well as his teacup and that he was looking very smart indeed. She shuffled over to him, "Here," he said, pulling out a chair, "make yourself comfortable."
While she ate, Harry explained that Kreacher had also brought the note, which told him that he was needed to attend a ceremony this morning. Those that were killed fighting against Voldemort were being sent to their final resting places and he was to stand for one of them so she would have to wait here.
"You can watch if you like, the big window over there looks down onto the lawns," he told her, "But if you would rather not, I understand."
"No I'll watch," she said. "Maybe it will help me, and even if I can't remember them at the moment I owe every one of them our future, I can at least do that."
Harry gave her a wistful smile, "I know they would thank you for that if they could," he stood, "but they can't, so I will, on their behalf," and he bent over and kissed her on the cheek. "I err... better go," he said and walked to the door. "I'll make sure you can hear everything," he added as he left.
Hermione stepped out of the bathroom some ten minutes later just in time to the house elf Kreacher fade into nothing. The clothes she had been wearing yesterday were gone and clean, new ones had replaced them, she silently thanked the little man and then remembering Harry from the night before shouted "Thank-you" into the ether, she had no idea if he would hear it but it seemed the right thing to do. Once dressed Hermione walked out into the study and crossed to the large window that stretched from floor to ceiling, the view from it was magnificent, the whole valley and the mountains beyond were spread out before her. Then she looked down and although she was separated from the scene by several hundred feet, the emotions rising from the people down there hit her as if a physical blow and tears began to gather in her eyes.
Harry descended the grand staircase, he had met no one on his way down from Dumbledore's old study in fact the whole castle was eerily quiet, almost as if it was waiting for something to happen, as if the events of the last few days were not enough. As he crossed the entrance hall the main doors began to move and by the time he reached them they were fully open. He walked down the steps outside, acutely aware that the muted voices of the assembled witches and wizards had fallen silent and all eyes were turned to him. As he crossed the lawns he drew his wand and touched it to his ear, then pointed it up towards the window where Hermione could be seen looking down. Several eyes followed the point of Harry's wand and knowing shakes of heads and whispered comments fluttered through the gathering.
He looked neither to the right or left now as he passed through the crowd, his attention was fixed on one thing the plain coffin with the name Remus Lupin engraved on its lid, he walked up to it and stood at its head. As if this was a signal to the others, they divided and placed themselves at the head of each of the fifty-four coffins laid out on the grass and drew their wands. Some of the dead only had one person standing for them, others, small groups, family members or several friends unwilling to relinquish the final act of respect to just one of their number. The elderly wizard who was to give thanks for the sacrifice of those that had died stood and, flanked by Professor McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt, began to speak. His words reached Harry's ears but they meant little to him the loss of all these friends was too raw a wound to be healed, but as he heard them, up in the Headmasters Study they were repeated to Hermione. She had no memory of those that had died but she was touched deeply by the words and sentiment that was being expressed and the tears now rolled unashamedly down her cheeks.
The old wizard fell silent, the time had come, one by one, wands were touched to the names on the coffin lids and the unspoken spells sent the dead to their final resting places. Harry's turn came and he reached forward aware that the person next to him was doing the same to her coffin and so, as one, Remus and Tonks vanished together.
It was Luna. "I thought they would like it that way," she choked out over her tears. The last few coffins faded away, Fred's being the last of all and Harry drew the sobbing girl into a fierce embrace.
"Yes, I think you are right. You always manage to see through to the important bits," said Harry, "its why you are so dear to me." He held her while she calmed down and regained control of her sadness. Harry lifted his gaze and looked around, people were slipping away most walking off down the pathway that led to the school gates, as the gathering was beginning to break up. "So, where are you off to now?" Harry asked.
"Oh I'm going to stay with Ginny and Ron for the time being... No where else to go," she told him and then blew her nose in a large brilliantly pink handkerchief. "I understand you've spoken to Ron," Harry nodded, "He doesn't believe you can do anything to make her better, but I suppose you do; I mean why else would you stay with her, it's not as if you are in love with her are you?" She looked at Harry and saw the mixed emotions cross his features, and realised there was more going on here that she or Ron imagined, "Oh dear!"
Harry shook his head. "It's not as bad as that Luna; if anyone's feelings are compromised they will be mine. Hermione doesn't know how I feel, neither does Ron and you mustn't tell him. When Hermione has her memories back, if she wants, then she and Ron will be able to pick up where they left off, the decision must be hers alone, no matter what Dumbledore thinks."
Luna nodded in agreement but her thoughts were sad, poor Harry still clinging to when Hermione gets better, not if and the far more likely never.
A balding ginger haired man walked up to where Harry and Luna were standing, the figure of Ron not far behind him.
"Hello Mr Weasley,"
"Hello Harry, ah how is it going?" his eyes glancing up to the tower containing the Headmasters study.
"Hardly had a chance to start on anything meaningful, but she can still do magic so I suppose that at least is something. Hello Ron."
"Hi." Ron responded but Harry notice that he seemed uncomfortable, as if he was wishing he were anywhere but here.
"Well yes that is indeed good news, sometimes that never comes back," Arthur said with false cheeriness. He switched his gaze back and forth between Harry and Ron as if waiting for some interaction but none was forthcoming. "Right then, we'd better be on our way, Bill and Charlie have everything sorted at the other end and we mustn't keep them waiting too long, come on Ron, Luna."
I'm very sorry Mr Weasley, about Fred I mean," said Harry, as they turned to leave. "Please let everyone know. I would come but..." He left the rest unsaid.
"Quite understand, and Harry," Arthur, obviously upset, tried hard to control is emotions, "don't worry yourself my lad, you have given us so much more that we have lost." They walked away and Harry watched them go. Luna turned back just before they disappeared around the corner in the path and waved Harry gave a half hearted one back in return. Ron completely ignored him.
Arthur Weasley walked on in silence for a few minutes the he turned to Ron. "That lad deserves more you know."
"What Harry? He'll come around when he realises he wasting his time," said Ron, tightly. He was still unhappy with the way things had turned out and he was feeling sorry for himself. There was nothing he could do for Hermione everyone had said so, and he could see no reason why Harry didn't understand that as well. Even so, there was still that little tinge of jealousy that he was with her and poor old Ron was once again out in the cold.
"Well may be, but I feel sorry for him. After all he dealt with err... you know who and then this happens to Hermione."
"Surely we should feel sorrier for Hermione ...or me?"
Mr Weasley regarded his son with exasperation. "You, there's nothing you have to worry about, you're alive and uninjured. Didn't you listen to anything Professor McGonagall told you yesterday?" Ron shrugged his shoulders, to be truthful; he hadn't really paid that much attention. "Harry has promised to stay with Hermione to try and help her regardless of the outcome," continued Mr Wesley, "and if I know that young man as well as I think, he will keep that promise, whatever the cost. To all intents he is trapped with someone who looks just like the Hermione he cares for but isn't. Without recovery she will begin to depend on him totally and rely on his presence for her very sanity. And to be honest," Arthur sighed heavily, "no one has ever recovered from a full, unrestrained, obliviation. I fear Harry may well have promised himself a life sentence."
His father's words finally filtered through to Ron, he imagined the heartache of watching Hermione every day, knowing that the girl you cared for... loved, like a sister or not, was lost. That all your eyes could see was merely a shell; he knew he could never bear that and he felt acutely ashamed that he had ever doubted Harry's reasons for trying, now he didn't know what to think.
His feelings for Hermione had smouldered along for quite some time now, never really breaking out because he was too thick to see past all the arguments and couldn't cope with how clever she was. He was very fond of her, more than fond, of that there was no doubt and until recently he had always assumed that Harry felt the same, until he spouted all that stuff about like being brother and sister. Ron didn't get that at all, brothers and sisters were just annoying additions to the family, always causing problems, more trouble than they were worth, except that that wasn't true now he thought about it ...he'd give anything to have Fred back. Still, Harry and Hermione had seemed better connected; he thought she had always given Harry far more attention, so it had come as a great surprise to Ron when Hermione had kissed him. He had to admit that he enjoyed it and kissed her back just as passionately, but to be honest he still couldn't believe she was that interested in him. Ron sighed, it was a very sad but inescapable fact that the flame of romance that had flared so brightly had been suddenly extinguished and it would never be given the chance to burn again.
Harry walked back across the lawns; an irritating itch in his ear suddenly reminded him that Hermione could still hear everything he could and that she would have heard his conversation with Luna. It seemed that Luna's insightful "Oh dear!" aptly fitted the bill and that, even before starting to try and help Hermione, he would have a lot of explaining to do.
"I'll be up in a minute or two," said Harry out loud so that Hermione could here him but he was unaware that Professor McGonagall was only a few steps behind him.
"Talking to yourself Potter?" the soft Scots accent was unmistakable.
Harry stopped and McGonagall joined him on the steps. "No Professor, to Hermione actually," he said as he touched his wand to his ear and broke the contact. "She wanted to hear, I just hope she didn't hear too much."
It was clear the old witch was not interested in the details of Harry's concerns but the advice she gave was pertinent anyway. "Well try not to complicate things anymore than they already are." She stopped to speak quiet words of comfort to an elderly couple that passed them on the steps and then turned her attention back to Harry. "I have arranged it so that you can continue to use the Headmasters study until the last week of August, it will give us plenty of time to find somewhere more permanent for Hermione; we want to avoid St.Mungo's if we possibly can."
It occurred to Harry that most, unlike Madam Pomfrey, had already assumed that Hermione would not get any better, but he didn't believe that, he couldn't believe that. "Well that's no worry because she will be better by then," he said defiantly.
Professor McGonagall looked down at Harry over her glasses trying to determine if he was merely in denial but the resolute look he returned made her realise he was serious and her heart went out to him, he just couldn't see the reality of the situation.
"Well anyway," she said in a comforting tone, "Professor Cervelet will be arriving tomorrow, we will know much more then." She patted Harry on the shoulder, saddened by his useless devotion and walked up the steps and through the castle doors, leaving Harry standing rooted to the spot and more determined than ever to bring his Hermione back.
He found her still staring out of the window but Hermione had brought up a chair and was sitting, taking in the wide panorama displayed before her. He readied himself to explain everything she must have heard when she surprised him by speaking up first.
"Thank-you for letting me listen in, I understand lots more now." She stood and turned toward him but didn't give him time to respond. "I know that you and I are linked in a very special way," she continued, "for the moment it doesn't matter how or in what way. I can feel that here," she placed her hand over her heart, "even if not in here," now she touched the side of her head. "Not yet anyway but because of you I know I am going to get better and then I will really know."
She took hold of his hand and led an unresisting Harry to the large desk that dominated the far end of the study. Placing him in the headmaster's chair Hermione moved to the front of the desk and sat down. "So," she said, "how do we start?"
Harry had actually thought about what he wanted to try first, there was something in this room that could look into your mind and analyse the things that made you what you are. He took it down from its place on the shelf; it looked even more decrepit than usual and smelled very strongly of smoke. Harry initially placed the sorting hat on his own head, because before he tried it on Hermione, he wanted to ask it some questions.
"Ahh Harry Potter," he heard the voice of the hat resound in his own head, "I see you have been successful at last."
"Yes, but I have a problem."
"I see..." there was a pause while the hat considered, "...I cannot refuse the man who defeated the heir of Slytherin, share your problem."
"I have a friend who has been obliviated, I need you to look into her mind and tell me what you find."
"But you are hiding the name of your friend from me Harry Potter, how can I ... Ahh I see, very clever. Let us try this experiment."
Harry lifted the hat from his head, "Right you have to try on this hat and it will talk to you," Hermione gave him a funny look, "Honestly it will, when you put it on try not to think of your name, we want to see if it can find it on its own."
"Ok Harry, if you say so." She leaned forward and Harry placed the sorting hat firmly on her head.
"Ok, ...right," said the hat out loud for Harry's benefit. "Umm... what have we here, a void as I expected, but wait over here in the corner behind this wall." The hat fell silent.
"I can hear him in my head Harry!" said Hermione excitedly, then her expression changed and she frowned. "OH! he's gone."
"It's all here you know, everything she needs," the hat's spoken voice sounded oddly hollow, " but it will be difficult to set free because now I am with her memories she can't hear me any more, this barrier is substantial."
"Can the barrier be broken?" Harry asked out loud, even though he was not sure if he could talk to the hat without putting it on.
"The barrier can be crossed, but can it be broken?... I cannot tell you," said the hat, "however everything that makes Hermione Granger what she is resides within her head, you will have to seek another route."
Harry placed the hat back on its shelf. "Thanks," he said quietly, the hat gave a little bow in return. "Well at least that's something," he clambered back down to stand in front of Hermione. "We know it's all in here," and he placed his hand on her head and gently smoothed her hair, but he was not prepared for what happened next. Hermione jumped to her feet, flung her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his chest. He could feel her trembling and for a moment he stood very still, his arms hanging by his sides then he slowly raised them and encircled her in a tight embrace. "It'll be alright," he whispered gently.
"But what if it isn't Harry, the hat said it will be difficult, what if I have to stay like this," she wailed.
He wanted to say; 'It doesn't matter, that even if we fail I will never leave you'. He wanted to say; 'Even if we do succeed I will never leave you'. There were lots of things he wanted to say but her outburst, at what she perceived was a failure, made him understand how fragile her true state of mind was, instead all he said was "You won't, I promise."
That afternoon Harry looked out onto the castle lawns, they were deserted but bathed in warm sunshine and looked very inviting. Hermione had recovered from her morning upset and was practising the levitating spell she used to be so good at and that hadn't changed. She had six floating teaspoons dancing to the waving of her wand and the tinny, repetitive tune that was coming from a small music box. Harry smiled, for the moment she looked very happy, and it gave him a very warm feeling inside.
"I think we should go for a walk," he said, "It's lovely outside and some fresh air would do us both some good."
She gently lowered the teaspoons down onto the table. "That would be nice, I've never been outside," she giggled. "Well of course I must have, but I can't remember doing it; weird isn't it?"
"Just a little," Harry replied, "But then lots of things are weird, like this for example." He picked up a cloak made of shimmering material and wrapped around his shoulders. Hermione shrieked for, from the neck down, his body was invisible. "This is my invisibility cloak," he told her, "you'd be surprised how much time we've spent under this thing."
"Why? What on earth were we doing?"
"Sneaking about, breaking school rules, usually getting ourselves into loads of trouble," he laughed.
"Gosh was I really like that."
"Well most of the time you were trying to stop Ron and me, we were the trouble makers, you were the voice of caution, saved us from ourselves.
"Ron? Tall with ginger hair, you spoke to him this morning.
"Yes, that's right," said Harry cautiously.
"He didn't seem very pleased to see you."
"No I don't think he was," Harry shook his head sadly. "So are we going for that walk," he said briskly, wanting to change the subject.
"Oh yes!"
"Right then, under here,"
"Why we're not being sneaky again are we Harry?"
"Probably, but best not to meet other people just yet, and this is a wonderful way of avoiding them."So covered by the invisibility cloak they had an uninterrupted descent to the lawns.
Once outside Harry removed the cloak and slung it over his shoulder, the pair strolled side by side down to the lake where the giant squid basked in the sunshine. Harry sat down close to the shore and lent back against a rock, Hermione walked on to the waters edge stooped down and picked up a stone. She took out her wand and transformed the stone into a frog, which she released into the water and watched it swim away.
"Would that frog have any memories, Harry?" she asked as she walked back to him.
"Err... I suppose not, only ones of being a stone and I wouldn't count that out as impossible anymore." Harry replied. "Why?"
She sank to the ground next to him. "Oh just that he seemed to be a very happy frog so he was doing fine without any."
"Umm..." Harry thought for a moment, "You probably don't need memories to be a frog it's all ahh... instinct."
"So you don't think I could manage on instinct then?"
"Not completely, no," he answered.
Hermione shifted around so that she was leaning up against him, resting her head on his shoulder, then she reached for Harry's hand and laced their fingers together. She gave a deep sigh and relaxed fully against him. "That's a shame," she murmured sleepily as she closed her eyes.
Harry let Hermione sleep; he had so much to think over. Her quixotic changes of temperament, left him quite breathless and rather confused, but that was a situation, which could not continue. He knew he had to be able to ride the highs and lows with her, almost try to be one-step ahead; he looked down at her sleeping form, kissed her gently on the head, and wondered how on earth he was going to manage that.
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