Chapter 6
All the Way Around and Back Again
They packed up the small house that had been their home for the last few months, bade it a fond farewell and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. Hermione let go of Crookshanks, who had apparated with them wrapped in her arms, he shot through the gates to the old castle and granting his mistress one last look, disappeared into the bushes.
"He'll be fine," said Hermione in reply to Harry's questioning eyebrows. "Almost like home for him anyway, and he can always go to Hagrid's if it gets too cold, better for him until we get settled."
Harry pushed open the gates and ushered Hermione through, they closed behind them of their own accord before Harry could do it himself; it seemed that the castle was expecting them. The first term without the spectre of Voldemort hanging over the school, was in full swing and Harry reasoned that today must be a Saturday, for there was a stream of students heading toward the Quidditch pitch and he could see the players circling overhead.
There were still a few students leaving the castle as Harry and Hermione walked up the steps. Some of the older ones stopped to stare at them as they disappeared inside and they could hear the whispers. 'It's Harry Potter and isn't that Hermione Granger with him?' 'What do you think they are here for?' 'I'd heard she was ill.' But the couple ignored the gossiping and carried on up the grand staircase to the hospital wing on the first floor. The great doors to the ward were open and inside they could see the busy figure of the hospital nurse as she arranged the beds and bedclothes in preparation for the inevitable consequences of a Quidditch match. Harry and Hermione stood quietly at the threshold to the ward and watched as Madam Pomfrey smoothed out the covers on the last bed to her satisfaction. The mediwitch seemed to sense that someone was there and she looked to the entrance of the ward as she finished with the bed. Her eyes sought out Harry's face and saw a smile blossom on it accompanied by a slight nod of his head. She gasped and her hand flew to cover her mouth then in a bustle of starched apron and immaculately pressed uniform Madam Pomfrey broke many years of her own rules and trotted up the ward to the young couple waiting for her.
"Oh my dears!" she cried, "Is it true?"
"Yes," answered Harry happily, "It worked Madam Pomfrey, Hermione remembers everything."
"You do?" she asked the girl in question, barely able to contain her surprise and delight.
Hermione was nodding and smiling at the exuberance being shown by someone who had always seemed so serious to her before. "Yes, everything is where it should be," she tapped the side of her head, "And I have the bonus of understanding things from another's point of view," she took Harry's hand in hers and held it tightly, "and you would be surprised the difference that has made."
Madam Pomfrey glanced between the two teenagers, smiled but wisely kept her council. "You must come to my office and tell me how you managed it; I know Professor Cervelet will be so pleased to know that his theory works." The nurse rustled away to her office with Harry and Hermione following slowly behind, by the time they caught up with her she had already conjured up couple of comfy chairs and a pot of tea. "Sit both of you, please."
So Harry and Hermione told Madam Pomfrey of Harry's continued efforts to awaken Hermione's memories using his own as a catalyst, until finally Hermione reached the bit where she described the spell that actually did the job.
"That's not possible," Madam Pomfrey was incredulous that this was fact. "Some spells can be given a short delay, ten, fifteen, minutes, half an hour at the most but nearly three months, I'm sorry but I don't believe it."
"I think the delay was my fault," admitted Harry. "When I cast it I had it in my mind that I wanted very much to pass all my memories of our life together on to Hermione. I wanted her to understand my side of the story of the last seven years, so I assume that the spell only worked when I had fulfilled all the conditions I had set on it."
Madam Pomfrey was not convinced. "You may be an excellent wizard Harry but there would have to be some very special circumstances for you to pull that off."
"I think there were," he countered; Madam Pomfrey gave him a look that was a demand for further explanation, Harry obliged. "Well... no one knew of course but I was in love with Hermione more than I let on," the nurse hid her smile well, "and that apparently formed a connection that my wand was able to tap into." He pulled his wand from his pocket and turned it in his fingers.
"Go on Harry, tell me more," Madam Pomfrey encouraged him.
"The thing is the wand I used was not mine," Hermione's head snapped up and she caught his eye. There was surprise because she had not known about the elder wand and a warning in her gaze. Harry acknowledged her concerns and she knew he would be circumspect... "Not this one anyway," He looked down at the symbol of his magic power. "This other wand was very powerful, it was not really mine but it recognised me as its master. It had already led me to her side on the day Hermione was attacked. It knew Hermione was in danger and even before I reached her, it acted on my will to protect her mind. That is why Hermione was not completely obliviated then when I cast the spell to release her mind I touched the wand to her temple and it marked her." He reached over and with the tips of his fingers moved Hermione's hair back a fraction revealing a small circular mark a faint dirty smudge just behind her hairline. "I thought that meant the spell had done all it could. I just didn't realise..."
"But even though you thought the spell had failed you didn't give up," said Hermione gently.
"No I didn't," he admitted shaking his head.
"And powerful wand or not, that's what makes you special Harry," Hermione leaned forward and kissed him.
Madam Pomfrey watched the byplay with the contentment that comes with being proved right in the end, but that did not dissuade her from pursuing the instrument that had cured the incurable. "And that wand Harry, where is it now?" she asked.
"I destroyed it," Madam Pomfrey looked horrified. "It was Voldemort's," said Harry simply, as if that was a good enough reason for his actions on its own. He knew he wasn't being truthful but it was better that she thought the wand out of reach.
He turned to the girl by his side and took her hand. "Come on Hermione I think it's time for us to go, lots to do." They stood to go but Harry turned back to the mediwitch still sitting at her desk in stunned silence. "Please thank Professor Cervelet for us, he will have to keep trying with his cure, I don't think Hermione's case was strictly conventional, but we couldn't have done it without the both of you."
Madam Pomfrey regained her composure and watched as the pair walked out of her office and down the ward hand in hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world, which of course it was.
* * *
Australia is a big place but tracking down Hermione's parents wasn't as difficult as Harry had imagined it would be. There weren't that many dentists called Wilkins to begin with and only one couple called Wendell and Monica. Their surgery on Sydney's North Shore was quite impressive, and Hermione was beginning to have doubts about interfering with their lives yet again.
"They never had anything like this back home, Harry," she confided in him as they watched the comings and goings from the busy clinic. "Perhaps we should leave them as they are."
Harry knew his young lady well and he could see the hurt in her eyes and the pain it was causing her to be without two of the most important people in her life. "They don't have to lose any of this, returning their memories won't affect that, unless they want it to." He looked deeply into her troubled eyes. "And to be honest if I was given the choice between all the money in the world and having you back in my life, the money wouldn't stand a chance."
"You really think so Harry?"
"I know so," he replied so confidently that all her doubts vanished.
They waited until the clinic was about to close. The receptionist was just about to shut and lock the door when Harry arrived supported by Hermione and clutching a handkerchief to his face with a look of intense pain in his eyes.
"Can I see the dentists please," he mumbled through the material and moaned as if in real pain.
"What is it Sarah?" came a voice from the bowels of the surgery.
"A young man with a tooth ache, by the look of things," the receptionist shouted back.
"Oh... Ok let him in," said the voice of Mr. Granger, with a resigned tone, supper was going to be late again.
"You want me to stay?" Sarah asked, not really wanting the answer to be yes.
"No that's fine Mrs Wilkins and I will deal with it."
Sarah gave a sigh of relief, beckoned Harry and Hermione in through the door yelled, "Cheerio then!" and disappeared out onto the street and away.
The silence in reception was broken only by the tinkling sound of dental instruments being arranged in the treatment room as Harry stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket and Hermione drew her wand. She pointed it toward the door from which the gentle sounds of a dentist preparing for work were issuing and waited. Her father stepped through first and the smile of greeting he especially reserved for any patient froze on his face. 'A hold up! ...At a dentist's! ...Surely not! ...Not by a girl with a stick in her hand anyway!" The thoughts flashed across his mind. Then Hermione's mother appeared behind her husband and the stick in the girls hand began to tremble.
"Please," said the young man, standing just behind the girl, in a very calm even voice, "we mean you no harm. Would you stand next to each other," Mr and Mrs Wilkins moved slowly out into the room. Harry held up his hand. "That's fine thanks." He smiled; it didn't really reassure them. "Now Hermione," but the girl hesitated.
Hermione saw her parents cringe and suddenly was very cross with herself for frightening them this way. Her wand spat magic at her command and the spell struck lifting the memory modification it had placed on them over a year before.
A curtain of illusion rose and Wendell and Monica Wilkins faded into the background as David and Natalie Granger regained their memories. The girl who had appeared so threatening moments before was no longer a stranger. "Hermione!" They both cried out together, as she flew into their arms.
Harry stood back and watched the reunion with happiness tinged with sadness. It was something he would never have denied Hermione but it was something that he knew he could never have for himself. Through her tears of joy, Hermione sensed Harry's sadness, the memories she carried in her head told her exactly how the young man was feeling, so she disengaged herself from her parents' embrace and stretched out a hand to entreat him to join them.
"This is Harry," she introduced him between sniffs, and smiles of happiness. "And I love him very much."
Harry blushed slightly, under the interested gaze of Hermione's mother and father. "Err... um... pleased to meet you," he managed eventually.
Harry let Hermione talk, she had done little else all evening, but he reasoned she was making a much better job of it than he would have done, and her parents were listening with enwrapped attention. He thought she might have covered the bit about them sleeping together now, during the few minutes he was using the bathroom, as he received a very searching look from Hermione's father on his return. However, after a few moments thought he shrugged his shoulders, surrendering to the inevitable consequences of his daughter growing up and gave Harry a nod of acceptance. Hermione left very little out of her tale so it was well past midnight by the time she had finished. Her parents said very little, they had received a rather large culture shock in the last few hours and they wisely decided to sleep on it before passing comment. Mrs Granger had a quiet word with her daughter, before following her husband in wishing Harry a goodnight and disappearing into their bedroom.
"Ok love?" Harry asked gently, slipping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.
She pressed herself against Harry's chest then lifted her face and kissed him. Their lips melted together and as Harry tasted the sweetness of her mouth, the passion flowed back and forth between them. They parted breathless, with the excitement that even a simple kiss left them with, Hermione snuggled back against Harry and sighed with contentment. "How could I not be alright?" she gave him a squeeze. "I'm fine Harry, really I am, I just hope mum and dad are ok with it all; I could tell it all came a bit fast for them, you know, a bit of a shock." She paused for a moment and gazed up into the eyes of the young man she loved to distraction. "Usually they cope well, after all, over the years, I've had to tell them some fairly hairy tales, most of them because of you." Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow. Hermione laughed, "I wouldn't be surprised if they know as much about you as I do."
"I hope not quite as much," he whispered as he found that little spot on Hermione's neck that if he kissed it just right made her squirm with pleasure.
She squealed in delight, "Stop it!" she giggled, then in mock sternness said, "Well they don't know how much you snore."
"Me!"
"Yes you!" she grabbed his hand and led him to the spare room her mother had told her they could use. "Come on Romeo, bed!"
Hermione needn't have worried; her parents spent a great deal of the night talking and came to the conclusion that life as it was would be hard to improve on. There was only one sticking point being the names they would have to live with.
"Why on earth did you pick Wendell? I mean," said Hermione's father the following morning, sounding rather hurt, "I don't even look like a Wendell."
"I'm sorry dad," Hermione placated him, "but at the time things were a little fraught. The names were so unlike you and mum that I figured no one would be able to work out who you were."She pouted her lower lip in mock contriteness. "I was trying to save your lives after all."
Mr Granger drew his daughter into a hug, "Of course I understand I was not really all that serious about being upset. However," he whispered in her ear, "if you could make it so that we are Grangers again, it would be nice."
"Oh easy," said Hermione confidently. That proved to be a drastic understatement; it actually took her two weeks. She was most surprised at the number of places muggles recorded their names. Harry left most of the actual work to Hermione, the paper changes were relatively easy but it needed a fine touch to confound the computers that were used so much in the muggle world. He did stand watch a few times, when it was necessary for them to gain access to what the muggles considered secure facilities but other than that, he spent the time getting to know Hermione's parents.
Harry initially regarded Mr. Granger as a force to be reckoned with. David retained his initial distrust that any father feels when a young man threatens to take away a much-loved daughter but that lasted only for the first few minutes of their initial chat. He soon realised how much the two loved each other and the sacrifices each had made for the other over the years. He concluded that seeing as this Voldemort bloke could not separate the two of them, then he would stand no chance and who was he to try anyway. The more he and Harry talked, the more sure he was that his daughter could be in no better hands and the worries he had carried with him since the day they discovered that Hermione was a witch faded away. For his part, Harry grew to respect the man that had coped so remarkably with a daughter of such devastating talent, and survived sane.
Mrs. Granger was something else, a more mature version of his girlfriend, Harry could not help but like her instantly, and it appeared the feeling was mutual. It may have been that Hermione had told her mother more over the years about this mysterious boy that the wizarding world were pinning their hopes to; she had certainly done so recently. Whereas her father saw Harry as a good solid foundation for Hermione's future, wherever that may lead her, Harry was regarded in different eyes by her mother. She saw the shy romantic, loving deeply but for reasons, he thought best, hiding that love, until the circumstances allowed him to show it. His efforts to help her daughter regain her memories, the very essence of herself, were far above any type of devotion Natalie Granger had ever seen or experienced.
On a warm morning, Mrs. Granger found Harry leaning on the balcony staring out over the busy waters of Sydney Harbour. The feeling of the heat and bright sunshine this close to the Christmas period was just as novel to her as to the young wizard. Hermione was out, having tracked down the last record concerning the emigration of Wendell and Monica Wilkins and then those two could be said to have never existed, which of course they never did. She heard Harry sigh.
"Penny for them Harry?" she asked quietly.
"What?" then, "Oh sorry, you mean my thoughts," he smiled at the older woman. "Nothing really, I was just storing up a few memories to take back home. Not going to be as warm there that's for sure."
Mrs. Granger walked over to the side of the balcony where the white fragrant blossoms of a climbing rose were opening to welcome the sun. She fingered the flower's delicate petals and caught the perfume that so reminded her of summer back in England.
"Memories are very precious things Harry; you know that better than probably anyone. They can be forgotten in an instant or remain with you all your life." She gave a little laugh that was so like Hermione's, it sent a shiver down Harry's back. "Looking at these flowers just reminded me of something, a quotation really, by J.M. Barrie," Harry gave her a blank look, "OH! you haven't been a wizard that long Harry," she said in disbelief at his ignorance, "the chap who wrote Peter Pan," Harry nodded in understanding. "He said 'God gave us memories so that we could have Roses in December', something he had probably never seen or even imagined could happen." She picked one of the blooms holding it to her face and drawing in the scent.
Then acting on impulse, not knowing how he would react, she stepped over to where Harry stood and held out her arms. He had never had the chance to respond to a mother's wish to hold her child, but the instinct was there and he acted on it. He felt the warmth in the embrace that at once showed love, protection, and an approval that he was truly welcome in this family. "Look after my little girl Harry, give her as many 'Roses in December' as you can; the two of you deserve to be happy."
Harry was caught up in the moment, emotions that had never seen the light of day because no parent had ever been physically present to illicit them, rose to the surface and Harry thought, although he actually whispered, the words that Natalie Granger was delighted to hear. "Thanks Mum."
* * *
It was snowing in Ottery St. Catchpole and it had been for some time if the foot of snow that Harry and Hermione apparated into was anything to go by. Sensibly, they had dressed for the cold that they knew they would find. Their heavy boots crunched on the fresh snow as they walked in the direction of the Burrow and the travelling cloaks they wore kept out the worst of the wind that whipped the snow into a whirling dance that at times made it difficult to see where they were going. It was the weekend before Christmas so Harry and Hermione hoped that all the Weasleys would be in residence; it was a chance they had to take as they had promised the Grangers that Christmas Day itself would be spent with them, on a beach, enjoying the sun.
The strange crooked house that Harry knew contained the only people that, in years past, had treated him as family, appeared out of the swirling flakes of snow. It looked the same as it always had; the Death Eaters it seemed had failed to make any lasting impression on the marvellous structure that the Weasleys called home. While on the outside everything looked as normal, Harry knew that the family it contained had been changed forever by the events of last May and to be honest he was a little nervous of the reception he might receive. Hermione had only one concern and that was how Ron would behave. She knew from his letter written all those months ago that he and Luna were seeing each other, she hoped that this was still the case; it would make things much easier for her. She also considered something that had not even crossed Harry's mind and that was the response of the youngest Weasley, when she learned that Harry and Hermione were far more than just best friends. Almost as if it would give her added protection, she drew her cloak tightly around her so that only her eyes were visible in the depths of its folds.
The sounds of merriment and George's raucous laughter instantly ceased when Harry knocked on the front door. The silence lasted nearly a full minute before the sound of footsteps could be heard and the front door was flung open to reveal Mr. Weasley standing there, wand in hand, ready to repel or welcome the visitors to his home.
"Hello Mr. Weasley, do you mind if we come in?" Arthur stood on his doorstep frozen in place his mouth open with surprise. "Only it is rather cold out here," Harry continued, as snowflakes blown into the hall settled on Arthur's slippers.
Arthur suddenly came to his senses. "Harry! my boy come in, come in, your friend too," he cried and he waved them through into the hallway. Then Mr Weasley received his second shock of the evening, which caused his mouth to drop open yet again. As Harry's travelling companion followed him in, Arthur suddenly realised who was bundled up under the concealing cloak. "Hermione?"
"Yes Mr. Weasley, it's me," came the slightly muffled reply. "Merry Christmas."
"Err... yes of course Merry Christmas... err... to the both of you," he finally managed to stammer out.
While Mr Weasley helped Hermione to divest herself of her heavy cloak Harry walked the few steps to the sitting room door, he peered into the room and saw that they were all there. They all had the same shocked expression on their faces that Arthur had worn a few moments before; it was Ron who shook off his surprise first.
"Harry!" he leapt to his feet almost depositing Luna, who had been sitting on his lap, onto the floor. He grabbed Harry and pulled him into an ecstatic hug, banging him on the back, in the pleasure of seeing his best friend again. "I knew we'd see you soon! Oh mate you don't know how good it is." Ron prattled on at nineteen to the dozen. "Kingsley will be over the moon, he's been trying to find you for months, but we all knew it would only be a matter of time, we knew you couldn't shut yourself away for ever." The Ron fell silent for over Harry's shoulder he had seen someone else enter the room guided in by his father. There was a general gasp of astonishment as Hermione became visible to everyone else.
You could have picked up the silence, rolled it out and used it to make earmuffs to protect everyone from the cry of a mandrake it was so dense.
"Hi, back again," said Hermione giving them all a wave.
"Oh my!" cried Mrs. Weasley.
"Bloody hell," said George quietly.
"Hermione!" shouted Ginny and Luna almost as one.
"Well," said Bill to no one in particular, "I have a feeling we have underestimated our Harry once again." The others sat in silence shaking their heads in disbelief.
In the few seconds all this had taken, Hermione had watched the faces of everyone in the room. Most were just surprised, but Luna's eyes had narrowed slightly and Ginny's were wide in hope and had never left Harry. Hermione dealt with both girls at the same time by simply moving to Harry's side and sliding her arm through his, Luna smiled but Ginny's eyes filled with hurt and she looked away. Then Hermione's gaze switched to Ron, he had backed away from Harry, and Luna had come up to stand by his side. There was a stunned expression on his face and then he closed his eyes for a moment as if in pain. Luna slipped her arm around Ron's waist and gave him a little squeeze; Ron responded and wrapped his arm over her shoulders drawing him to her. No words were spoken but now everyone knew where they stood that for good or ill some life defining decisions had been made.
"I shouldn't have believed them Harry," Ron said, as he gave Hermione a rueful smile. "I should have believed in you and in Hermione. I let you both down once before and now I've done it again. I can't be sad for what might have been," he looked down at Luna, "things have moved on too much since then. I hope you can forgive me."
There wasn't much either Harry or Hermione could say but "Forgiven." And with that announcement, the awkwardness vanished and the reconciliation of old friendships was completed. Eventually even Ginny warmed to the party that followed, she had realised long ago that Hermione would be with Harry even if her past had remained lost; but unwilling to let go completely Ginny had held onto one tiny, final hope that Harry would be free and that had lead to her disappointment that evening. Now she knew for definite, a weight was lifted from her shoulders, something she had unconsciously carried for far too long and excitement bubbled up inside her. She could hardly wait to get back to school now; there was a lot of choice there, even if none of it quite reached the standard that Harry set.
They stayed until the following morning. Arthur and Ron wrung a promise out of Harry to get in touch with Kingsley Shacklebolt after the New Year and Mrs. Weasley bade them a tearful farewell still unable to believe in Hermione's complete recovery, despite the evidence of her own eyes.
Luna and Ron walked with them down the lane, they talked quietly together about hopes and plans for the future, the time for recriminations and what if's was long past and it seemed a little childish to pursue them. They reached the cross roads where Ron and Luna were to go on to see Luna's father, now living in his partly restored house once more.
"Well," said Ron, and he took Harry's hand, the handshake quickly became a hug, "I don't begin to understand how you did it, but I'm very glad you brought her back to us all." He glanced over at the girls saying goodbye to one another and sighed. "I know I couldn't have managed it, just that one visit broke my heart." He shook his head slowly. "To be able to take that every day ...how?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders, for him the answer was easy. "I am in love with her Ron. I always have been, maybe even from the first time I saw her. I don't know for sure anymore when it happened but there it is."
Ron nodded, finally accepting that he would never really comprehend the passions that drove his best friend. Then Hermione was there by Harry's side and Ron looked deep into those dark brown eyes where he had first seen real love. He drew her into a hug and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek, then held her at arms length and piled all his regrets and apologies into one word. "Sorry." Hermione smiled, leaned in and returned the kiss.
It wasn't snowing now but the clouds looked as if there was more to come. The others had gone their separate way. Harry and Hermione looked out over the white fields to the Burrow, just visible in the distance. In the daylight, it looked an even more magical place than they both knew it to be. The sun peeked out briefly from behind a cloud and the snow sparkled all around them. Harry took Hermione into his arms and held her close to him.
"Happy," he whispered.
She looked into his eyes and kissed him, "Very happy Harry," she sighed with utter contentment. "Happy in more ways than you could possibly imagine," she fixed him with a mischievous grin.
Harry grinned back, Hermione was glowing with health and to be honest Harry wasn't all that stupid, "Don't you bet on that." He said as he laughed and kissed her again; it seems that life goes on.
They glanced around, making sure they were alone, they both knew they would be back one day soon but for now, with the thoughts of blue skies and warm sun in their minds, Harry and Hermione vanished.
THE END.
A great big thank-you to all who have read and to those who have reviewed this latest offering. I am constantly amazed at the number of people who read these stories and I am eternally grateful to those who take the time to review them. I do read all the reviews and respond where I can but if I haven't responded to yours, do not feel it is in anyway less important to me. They all guide and encourage me to write more, thank-you.
Solomon Aegis
Wiltshire, England. 2010.