Tears of Red and Gold

A/N: This is something that came about from a desire to reconcile how Ron and Family got anything they wanted and how Harry almost lost everything. Thanks go out to trp0522 for the suggestion of the title I used.

Full Disclosure: I borrow a few turns of phrase from Chris Dee. Her depictions of banter between Bruce and Selina are gold. There are a few lines that I couldn’t resist borrowing from Doctor Who as well. I snagged the name Jimmy from Auror Captain Harry Potter. The Idea of granting wishes to deserving people by Norse goddesses belongs to Kosuke Fujishima. To my knowledge, the similarities end there. There are also a few mentions in homage to the great fanfiction writers whose work I greatly admire. I don’t own Harry Potter.

Tears of Red and Gold part 1

By Xelan

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were gathered in the Burrow. It was Ron's 18th birthday and they were all planning to celebrate along with Ron's parents. The cake was nearly ready save for a bit more icing and the candles - Ron eyed it impatiently. Seated at the head of the table in recognition of his special day, he tapped his fingers loudly on the wooden table in irritation.

Hermione was seated just to Ron's right and was eagerly talking about a new book on ancient runes she had purchased. Ron tuned her out as she expounded upon her interests; though, Harry seemed to be interested.

Despite the festive atmosphere, Harry felt glum. He and Ginny and had never gotten back together despite numerous attempts on her part. Living through a war changes a man and Harry just didn't feel comfortable with Ginny after the Final Battle. Certainly they'd had fun during the week they had been together, but a handful of intense snogging sessions does not a long lasting relationship make. Case in point, their time together had barely lasted a week.

Leaving aside the squicky feeling he got when he thought of Ginny's hair - red, ugh. He repressed a shudder and found himself smiling as he focused on Hermione. She had an amazing ability to talk about normally uninteresting topics (like runes) and make them seem like the most fascinating thing in the world. It didn't hurt that her lips were gorgeous and that he enjoyed watching them move. He tried not to focus on the fact that she and Ron were currently trying to give dating a go, but he was sure he would be ready if Ron made the humungous mistake of letting Hermione go.

XXXXXX

The cake had long since been devoured and Ron was leaning back in his chair feeling fat and happy... well, perhaps not truly happy. He was feeling a bit randy as well. He leered a bit at Hermione when her back was turned. She truly had developed a fine backside. He had been amazed at how much worth she had put on his worry for the Hogwarts house elves; after all, who would cook and clean and do up his laundry if the house elves got snuffed?

What frustrated him was how reticent she still was. Two dates and all he got was a little light kissing. He'd gotten further with Lavendar on their first date. On that note, Ron idly wondered what Lavendar was doing these days. He was shaken from his thoughts by Molly telling him it was time for presents.

XXXXXX

Ron Weasley had done extremely well for himself. Loads and loads of quidditch stuff: various pieces of armor from his brothers sent via owl post, a complete set of quidditch balls from his parents, goggles from Ginny, and a Cleansweep broom from Harry. Hermione's gift, he opened in great excitement. He hoped it would be a note promising him certain 'special' favors for his birthday. It turned out to be a book on the Chudley Cannons. That was all. Naturally he frowned as he turned the book upside down and shook it vigorously to make sure no note was stuck between the pages - nothing came out. That Hermione looked hurt never crossed his mind. He was disappointed, but not dissuaded.

Leaning over to catch Hermione's ear, he whispered all the rude thoughts that had been percolating in his mind since fifth year. Before he could even finish his plans involving a banana and silk stockings, Hermione slapped him hard.

“Bloody Hell, Woman!” he yowled. “What is your problem? I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend, couples do this sort of thing!”

Hermione had been staring at her hand as if she had never seen it before. Sighing, she turned her gaze back to Ron and began to explain. “Ron, we aren’t girlfriend and boyfriend. We’re not a couple. Right now, we’re just two friends trying to see if we have a future together. At best you could say we’re dating but nothing more than that.” Her face flushed lightly in embarrassment as she looked guiltily at Harry before continuing. “I’m not ready to do that with you. In fact, that is something I would only do with my husband. If you’re expecting me to do that with you, then I think maybe we should end it now.”

The room was quiet as Ron’s face flushed red in anger. The red imprint of Hermione’s hand faded into the background of his reddening face.

“Bollocks! Dating couples do that all the time. Why, on our first date, Lavendar and me-” then he realized that everyone was staring at them. “Fine! If you’re going to be that way, then get out of my house!

“Please, Ron. You can’t mean that...”

There you go again! Always telling me what I can and can’t do. Don’t slouch, Ron; use your silverware, Ron; Wash your hands after you use the loo, Ron. Blimey! Does it never end?

Not liking the way this conversation was going, Hermione tried a different tactic. “

I’m just... I’m just trying to make you happy. It seems like that’s all I’ve been trying to do since I’ve known you.”

“Well, then you’re doing a piss poor job of it,” he said in a huff.

“That really hurts, Ron. I know you don’t believe me and I know you don’t really mean to hurt me, but your words hurts nonetheless.”

“Then why don’t you leave?” The sarcasm was dripping from his voice.

“Wha- I mean, I don’t understand?”

“You heard me, Herms.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“Nothing would make me happier. In fact, I want nothing to do with you anymore at all.

“Please, Ron. Just stop and think about what you’re doing… Don’t say something you’ll regret”

“THAT’S IT! THAT’S THE LAST STRAW! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE AND LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE!” he yelled.

Hermione couldn’t move, her face was frozen with a look of disbelieving shock. “I... I... You...But...well, huh.”

It was at that point that things began to get very, very weird, and for this group that really says something.

Hermione actually began to float off the ground. Her casual clothing began to shift and blur, as if someone were casting a powerful transfiguration spell in slow motion; her pale white skin started to glow with a pearly sheen and green tear drop marks were becoming visible on her cheeks and forehead. Everyone shied away except for Harry. He thought she looked beautiful and if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Hermione Granger would never seriously hurt him. Some minor scrapes and bruises from the rapidly developing winds and flying debris around the floating Miss Granger were a small price to pay as he watched her age into maturity. Ye gods, she was gorgeous.

As suddenly as the winds began, those same winds abruptly stopped and plates, bowls and small pieces of furniture dropped to the ground with a loud clatter.

The glow died down and Hermione’s feet touched the ground. The nearly blinding light reduced itself to a gentle, almost divine gleam. She spoke. “Molly Weasley, the contract to ensure the happiness of your children has been abrogated by one Ronald Bilius Weasley, one of the primary beneficiaries. In accordance to the Doctrine of Free Will and Destiny, all Divine reality adjustments may be rendered null and void should one or all of the primary beneficiaries decline action as per terms of the original agreement.

Molly was continually shaking her head. In a choked voice, she babbled, “No, No, No, it can’t be. My babies, I thought it was a dream. No, No, No, it can’t be. My babies...” again and again.

“Molly, what’s going on?” demanded Arthur.

Hermione turned to Molly and her eyes began to shimmer. “Also in accordance to the Doctrine of Free Will and Destiny, all current reality adjustments still active will be terminated forth with.” She turned toward Ron who was cowering behind an overturned, overstuffed, armchair. “Let it be known that what happens next is on your head Ronald Bilius Weasley.”

As she finished speaking, her head ducked down and her eyes closed, she drew her arms in and clenched her hands in concentration. All of the sudden, she threw her arms, head and hands back with waves of azure light streaming from her. “DISPELL!” she cried and a wave of golden light issued forth from Hermione, spreading out in a circle. The ring of light thinned as it spread outward, briefly touching all around her then pushing outward to circle the globe. As the light touched each person in the Burrow, each fell unconscious, though for those beyond the Burrow walls, the energy became so diffuse that no one noticed anything out of the ordinary save for a slight tingling sensation.

XXXXXX

Harry regained conscious but his eyes were still closed. Someone with a gentle touch and soft fingers had evidently moved his body from where it fell and had moved his head to lay comfortably on her lap. Fingers were gently being run through his already messy hair and a thumb was stroking daintily down his faded scar. It felt really, really nice.

“I’m sorry, Harry…”

He opened his eyes to stare up at his best friend. “Hermione?”

Her brow was creased with worry and a quiet sob escaped from her mouth. “Not exactly…”

Harry’s eyes shot open in alarm. The colored tattoos notwithstanding, she looked like his best friend and longtime crush; though, perhaps a bit more mature. Was she an imposter?

“Don’t look at me like that, Harry James Potter. I know what you are thinking and I can assure you that I am not an imposter. In fact, if anyone has the right to be called Hermione Jane Granger, then it’s me.”

His mouth dropped open. She had read his mind – not just guessed as she often did, but actually READ HIS MIND.

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, it wasn’t that hard. I know you well enough that I could have guessed at it and done just as well. As for the impromptu mind reading, it was a reflex and not something I meant to do to you after everything Snape had done to you. I am very sorry, I won’t do it again without your permission.

Nodding his head, but still sporting a confused look, she went on to explain.

“I have only been Hermione Granger since the day I met you on the train.”

“But, your parents… I’ve met them before; I’ve been to your house. How could you not have been Hermione Granger until that day in September 7 years ago?”

Hermione’s lips formed a tired and ironic smile as she lowered her head and sighed. “I have a lot of things to tell you Harry, and I’d prefer not to have to do it a half-dozen times.” She snapped her fingers and all the prone Weasley’s lifted off of the ground, floated into magically righted chairs, stools and sofas and regained consciousness. “You’ve been silenced, and bound to those seats until I’ve finished my explanation. I don’t have all day so I’m going to handle all the questions at the end. Just nod your head if you understand.

Arthur nodded, but Ginny, Molly and Ron just glared at Hermione and Harry as he still had his head pillowed on her lap.

Not-Exactly-Hermione cleared her throat and began to explain. “It all began on a bright and clear day here at the Burrow…”

XXXXXX

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The events that led up to today may have started at the Burrow, but I would imagine that you’re curious about where I began?

Harry nodded.

“What you have to understand is that before you met me on the Hogwarts express, I had a completely different life. I’m… oh Lords above, this is hard… I’m a goddess.”

Harry’s mouth opened to ask a question, but Hermione moved her hand to cover his mouth. “I’m going to be telling you a lot of things that are hard to believe. If I stop to answer every question in depth, we’ll be here all day. I am not going to silence you, but I would appreciate it if you waited until the end as well.

He nodded and she continued her explanation but did not take her hand away from his mouth.

“As I was saying, I was a goddess (and actually still am) and I was searching around the British Isles. You have to understand, Harry. I’m actually much older than I appear. I’m… Well, you see… Oh Bother! I’M MARRIED.”

Harry didn’t say a word but his eyes widened in shock but then narrowed in concern.

Hermione sighed. It was deep and mournful and carried with it the impression of long and lonely nights spent apart. “Times are different from what they once were. In modern times, my husband and I both spent our time granting wishes to deserving mortals as per the dictates of the Norns, you’ve probably heard of them referred to as the Fates. It was good work, not too hard and not too easy. Monotony was not a problem for us; however, the center could not hold forever, I suppose.

One day, my husband failed to return home from his assignment. I was understandably worried as I loved and still do love him very much. I waited and waited, but he did not return. As you might guess, there are very few things in the wide world that can harm a god. I finally attempted to discover his fate from the Norns, but they were uncooperative. The Norns don’t communicate the way humans do and they DO NOT under ANY circumstances explain themselves or their decisions… a lot like Dumbledore, I suppose. I’m certain they knew what became of my husband, but they would not tell me anything at all.

She sighed once more and then continued. “Not one to give up, I decided to search for him myself. I knew he had been assigned to a case in the British Isles and that is where I started my search. As you can imagine, I never found him, but I kept on looking. Eventually, another case was assigned to me and I went to grant a wish. Oddly enough, the recipient was right here in the Burrow.

Harry’s eyes had relaxed, but upon this new revelation, his hand shot up to grip hers.

“That’s right, Harry. I granted a wish to Molly Weasley. Her one wish, and keep in mind that when I’m enforcing a wish I can do almost anything, was simply that she wanted her children to be happy. I can’t say it was a bad wish, but it was very inconvenient. Most wishes are finished as soon as they are made, but this one was interpreted by fate to be long term. Not a bad choice when you look at all it wrought, but when you consider that I could have done virtually anything she could have imagined, it does seem rather limited, don’t you think?”

Harry thought so as well, though his face had taken a somewhat somber cast.

“I granted the wish and for a while it was easy. One son wanted to be Head Boy and a curse breaker for Gringotts, done; another son wanted to be Quidditch captain and a Dragon keeper, done; Prefect then later Head Boy and work for the ministry, done; Best pranksters and never get caught, done. It was actually pretty easy. All I had to do was fulfill their hearts’ desires and I was good - wish fulfillment was easy. Their lives weren’t ‘perfect’ because their desires weren’t perfect. Despite everything, they had good heads on their shoulders and in their heart of hearts knew not to want too much… at least that is what the older children were like. I really ran into trouble with the two younger sons: Ronald and Jimmy Weasley.”

There was much knocking and banging as feet and arms thrashed in their seats. They couldn’t talk, but by Merlin they could make noise.

Hermione glared at the people arrayed around her. She snapped her fingers and the silence extended beyond their mouths to encompass their bodies. “Now don’t make such a fuss, I’m sure you remember Jimmy by now. It isn’t my fault that the Weasley bloodline had been cursed to only have male children for the past three centuries. You don’t know how troublesome it was for me to circumvent that curse; the paperwork alone would have killed a mortal, but in the end, I finally succeeded.

Harry had actually yanked his own head away from Hermione and was covering his mouth with both his hands. He looked distinctly queasy.

Hermione looked apologetic and was gently stroking his back to try and calm him. “Sorry, Harry. Jimmy’s greatest desire was to marry the Boy-Who-Lived. One of the limitations that even I have to follow involves Love and Free Will. You didn’t like boys and so I couldn’t make you fall in love with Jimmy. I could, however, make Jimmy into someone you could conceivably fall in love with – along came Ginny.”

Harry threw up on the floor.

Cleaning up the sick with a flick of her wrist, she continued. I couldn’t; of course, make Jimmy into a girl and leave any public record of Ginny having been born a male so all the memories, documents, and photos of her family were also ‘edited’ for content. I left Ginny’s memory alone, but she just thought it was a miracle and didn’t question it.

“Why didn’t you tell me BEFORE I started dating her!?” He fumed, but his gorge began to rise again and he quickly covered his mouth.

Looking truly penitent, she tried to explain. “It will all become clear as I continue my explanation. But suffice it to say, after we’d met, I wasn’t a goddess, I was just Hermione Granger. I honestly didn’t know until my full memories returned.”

Harry’s mouth was tight but he gave a brief nod that Hermione took to mean for her to continue her explanation. “To continue, I made Jimmy into Ginny and no one was the wiser. That may seem grandiose, but Ginny was happy as she was confident you’d now fall in love with her. No guarantees, mind, but I laid the foundation.” Hermione actually looked sad after that pronouncement.

“Ron, was and until now has been my greatest problem child. His heart’s desire started simply enough, he wanted to be Harry Potter’s best friend. I arranged it, but he wasn’t like the other Weasley children, Lord Almighty, he was greedy. Every time I fulfilled one wish, he wanted something else right away and usually it was an order of magnitude bigger. A lot like Dudley, if I’m recalling your description correctly. Anyway, I was almost constantly working on making him happy; it was truly unbelievable how quickly what most people would consider a passing fancy turned into an all-consuming, heartfelt desire for him.”

“Case in point, he somehow got into his head that he wanted to meet a muggle-born after reading his Marvin the Mad Muggle comics. Again, there were considerations as to how far I can meddle with Free Will, so I volunteered myself for the duty rather than spend the inordinate amount of time necessary to figure out a convoluted plan to get an actual Muggle born to be his friend.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Was it really that hard to get a friend for Ron?

Correctly reading Harry’s expression, she answered him. “It may have slipped your notice, Harry, but Ron is distinctly unlikeable, more so when he was younger and then again when he got older. Actually, there is only a small gap of time in his life when he was even semi-likeable.”

Harry paused to consider this statement but Hermione kept on going through her story.

I had hoped to appeal to his better instincts to become his friend and planned to create some situation where he had a chance to shine.

Unable to control himself, Harry burst out, “You were responsible for the troll!?” Hurt shone through his eyes that the moment they had become friends was contrived... it looked as though he’d been manipulated again!

Aware of the pained expression on Harry’s face, she was quick to reassure him. “No, No! Admittedly, I was aware of the situation that led to the Troll, but I only manipulated the situation enough to try and get Ron motivated. Imagine my surprise when I found he was far more cowardly than I expected and you had to drag him to the toilet. Fortunately, the lesson I had given him in Charms class for the levitation charm finally came to the fore of his slow firing synapses and he was able to knock the Troll out.”

Swallowing loudly, Harry hesitantly asked, “But if you knew enough to manipulate Quirrel’s troll, why couldn’t you tell us what was going on? I thought we were friends, Hermione?”

“We are friends, Harry – or at least you and Hermione were friends. I suppose everything will depend on whether you want to remain friends after you know everything.” Completely unawares, Not-Hermione bit her lip and looked beseechingly at Harry. He scooted closer and she began her tale again in earnest.

“Hermione? But, you’re Hermione, aren’t you?”

Hermione began to massage the bridge of her nose. This was going to take some explaining.

XXXXXX

To Be Continued.

Author’s End Notes: I’ve written just under 30 pages worth of this story. This part amounts to around 8 pages. I will be posting the second part almost immediately, but I’m still cleaning up part three. I hope to end everything in part four. We shall see...

Author’s Suggestions:

For ongoing stories, everything from Apaidan. I eagerly await more “A New Opening Night”.

For completed works, Robst’s “Knowledge is Power”.

Author’s Notes: This part concludes the portion I posted to Seel’vor’s Yahoo Group. It is much improved in terms of clarity and readability. I’ve also included a more fully fleshed out section that explains Horcruxes and Cedric’s Death. See part 1 for disclaimer.

XXXXXX

“You have to understand. There are rules about gods and goddesses living among mortals. When I decided to use myself to fulfill the requirements of the wish, I couldn’t be among mortals as my immortal self. I had to create a backstory, create parent homunculi and even create a separate identity to overlay over my true self in order to stay in compliance with The Rules.”

“Rules?”

“No, Harry. THE Rules. You need to remember the emphasis. The Rules aren’t like normal rules that can be broken. The Rules literally CANNOT be broken and should be treated with respect. I don’t really have the time to explain them now, but suffice it to say, they’re important and they govern what I’m allowed to do.”

Getting back to another question that was niggling at him, he asked, “So that means the Hermione I know doesn’t really exist?”

“I existed in the sense that I thought I had parents and that I thought I was a Muggle-born witch. For the sake of convenience, let’s call the personality construct I created that you were friends with Hermione and my Divine nature Freyja.”

“Norse goddess?”

Hermione beamed at her friend. “Very good, Harry! Not many people think of us these days. The Greek and Roman pantheons seem to get all the press lately.”

“Can I still call you Hermione?”

Hermione looked apologetic, but then nodded. “It’s not technically accurate since she’s only a small part of a greater whole, but I still retain all of her memories and thoughts... so I suppose you can if it makes you more comfortable. Just remember that Freyja and Hermione are essentially separate entities in the story.”

Harry nodded in understanding, but then began staring at his feet, a horrifying thought came to mind and he was too stunned to say anything.

Utilizing her intimate knowledge of what made Harry James Potter tick, Hermione ventured a guess as to what he was thinking. “I didn’t control your life, Harry. Your decisions were always your own. I did; however, give you a hand or three as we were growing up. I had to be very careful to always do it in such a way that it coincided with a desire of Ron’s. I mean, seriously, you don’t think that all of Dumbledore’s little schemes, tests, and manipulations would go off without a hitch if he didn’t have some divine intervention.

“How?”

For instance: Ron wanted to be on the Quidditch team in first year, but he was certain he could not. He said it himself, ‘First Years never make the house teams’, so he changed his desire to have a friend on the Quidditch team instead. He only had two friends at the time, so I worked it so that you ended up on the Quidditch team.”

Harry laughed at the thought and Hermione smiled.

“Ron wanted a way to sneak around the school, so when I learned that Dumbledore still had your dad’s invisibility cloak, I then subtly reminded him that he had promised to return it to your Dad. In this case, he simply returned it to you.

“You got me my Dad’s invisibility cloak back?

“Yes.”

“I hate to be repetitive, but how?”

“Despite her Divine status, Freyja isn’t all-powerful or all-knowing. However, she does have a rather impressive number of abilities to use in the pursuit of wish fulfillment.

“Such as?”

“Occlumency-proof mind-reading, able to become invisible and intangible beyond the ability of mortals to detect, and the ability to introduce dreams and portents to mortals to try and persuade them to take a course of action.”

“That’s it?” he asked. The skepticism in his voice annoyed Hermione for some reason.

“Well, no. I can do more, but you’re generally not supposed to know everything. Sorry, there are some things mortals are better off not knowing...”

Harry raised an eyebrow and smiled charmingly at her... Hermione decided to cave... just a little.

“All right.” She leaned in close to whisper conspiratorially to him. “I can do anything a wizard or witch can do, but I can do it better, faster, more often, and to greater effect.” She smiled and leaned back so she could say the last part for all to hear. “And all undetectable to witches and wizards.” She proclaimed smugly.

Harry felt strangely turned on at this statement. Her enthusiasm and confidence was really quite attractive. Then he remembered she was a married woman and his smile faded. “So what else have you been responsible for in our lives?”

“Remember when Voldemort attempted to curse your broom in first year. Freyja knew who was responsible, but she couldn’t act directly, and since Ron didn’t want you to die, and neither did Hermione, I gave her the idea of setting Snape on fire.”

Harry had to hug her for that.

Still being hugged and enjoying it very much she continued her explanation. “The Goddess me, or Freyja, was strictly concerned with two things. One, fulfill the wish and two, find my husband. She didn’t count on mortal me, or Hermione, finding such a good friend.”

“I still don’t understand that. How can you be two separate people?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m clever... admittedly not as clever as you, but...”

“Very complicated.”

“I’m reasonably clever and I’m listening.”

Hermione sighed at that and began to massage her temples as if she were readying herself to try and explain organic chemistry to grade school students.

“Hermione is a lot like me, she’s intelligent, likes to read and very good at magic. I created her of myself so it’s natural that she’d have a similar personality. I didn’t want to have to create a detailed backstory about her parents so I made her reticent to talk about them. I never even gave them first names... An only child, bullied by her peers, the standard pre-Hogwarts experience that the average Muggle-born would go through.

Harry was familiar with that sort of life so he didn’t even nod, he merely blinked and Hermione took it as a sign to continue.

“For what it’s worth, she thought she was real. I mean by several definitions, she was real.” Hermione took on a lecturing tone that Harry was very familiar with. “She thought for herself with only minimal manipulation by me. Granted, she didn’t actually know I existed, and when I wasn’t actively enforcing the terms of Molly’s wish, I was reasonably content to let Hermione exist exactly as you knew her. Since the terms of Ron’s desire included having a friend at Hogwarts, Hermione was essentially here to stay until he got tired of her or he passed away.

Harry was not happy that the very existence of the gir-woman, her corrected himself, woman he fancied, even if she was married, had hinged on the attention of Ron Weasley.

“As time went on, Hermione found herself liking you more and more and I suppose I developed a bit of a soft spot for you as well.” She smiled and held his hand. “It made Hermione happy when you were happy so I went out of my way to try and work things so that you benefited… It was the least I could do since you were her friend, but sometimes Ron’s desires were so explicit and so targeted that there was nothing for me to finagle.

“Like what?”

“The Yule Ball.”

“What did you do for the Yule Ball – the dress robes?”

“Heavens no. Do you really think that monstrosity of lace and mildewed cloth was something I came up with? No, Molly is solely responsible for that. By the time he realized he needed dress robes, that horrendously ugly set of dress robes was already in front of him and he was resigned. He wanted Fleur to be his date, but he didn’t really expect her to in his heart of hearts. If you take into account that messing with romantic free will and Veela in general is frowned upon in The Rules, there wasn’t much I could do. I did manage to convince Parvati and Padma that they didn’t want to go to the dance unless Harry Potter himself asked them.

“You’re the reason I had a date to the Yule Ball?”

“Yes, sorry it didn’t end so well.”

“No problem, I apologized to both Padma and Parvati for how we treated them a few years back.

How did you end up with Krum?”

“Ron wanted to have a chance to talk with Krum… as soon as I got them together and they talked a bit, he suddenly got jealous of Krum and wanted a reason for hating him. I reluctantly provided him one.”

“Did you ever wonder how almost the entire student body didn’t believe you about the tournament? Ron didn’t want them to have a positive impression of you. I had them dredge up all this mental angst the school had against you due to the Heir of Slytherin nonsense and their innate jealousy. It was hard both physically and mentally for me to do that to you and I’m sorry for it.”

“How were you able to stay my friend through that?”

“Ron liked to argue with me, he felt it made him seem manly and impressive, so I used that desire to allow me to remain your friend through the duration.”

“Thanks, Hermione. I wouldn’t have made it through without you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. What you probably don’t know is that I’m responsible for you getting the Horntail. You didn’t think it was just coincidence and bad luck that lead to the youngest of the Triwizard Champions receiving the fiercest and meanest dragon there, did you?”

“Actually, he sorta had. That revelation was so shocking he exclaimed “That was you, too! Were you trying to get me killed?”

“NO! I worked for hours trying to get Barty Crouch Junior sane enough that he could successfully act the part of Moody to give you the clues you’d need. Again, I was working off Ron’s desire to not have you actually dead. I can’t tell you the number of times I had to make his bottles of Fire Whiskey go missing so that even if he was still partially crazy, at least he wasn’t blindingly drunk*.”

“So, you didn’t want me to die?”

“Of course not!” she groused. Noticeably put out that the he would even suggest such a thing. “If I had, I wouldn’t have spent all that time teaching you the summoning charm. At that point, you were my-I mean-Hermione’s very best friend and I didn’t want you to die or even get hurt.

“But I did get hurt...”

Hermione’s face became cold and the next part was spoken with very little emotion, almost as if she was distancing herself from what she had been forced to do. “Ron wanted to see you get hurt by the dragon so I sent the equivalent of a powerful stinging hex at the dragon and she swatted you with her tail. I was able to make it so you wouldn’t get badly hurt, just enough so that Ron would see what COULD have happened.”

That was news to Harry. He had never actually thought that Ron had wanted him to get hurt... but then again, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Once he saw you bleed, he did a complete 180 and he wanted to be your best friend again, so I gave him the idea for the reconciliation outside the tent.”

Harry slumped. He should have known that it wasn’t Ron’s idea to apologize.

“Harry, I think you should know… I’m responsible for Cedric Diggory being in the graveyard.”

Of all the things he had heard today... this was something that he should have expected, but upon further reflection, he supposed he had still been in denial. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask a dozen questions at once, but in the end each and every question he tried to voice ended up sounding like an accusation. Finally, he settled on a simple, “explain” and almost as a belated afterthought, he added a, “please...”

Hermione’s mouth was tight, she knew the death of Cedric had been the first of a set of traumatizing experiences that had truly signaled the end of Harry’s innocence. “It may not surprise you to know that Dumbledore was well aware of the imposter... Even disregarding the withering curse, Dumbledore didn’t have a lot of time left and despite all his talk about not fearing his so-called ‘Next Great Adventure’ he was genuinely afraid of what awaited him.

“What does that have to do with Cedric dying?” Harry wondered aloud.

“it’s about control, Harry. Control, pride, and hubris. Massive, massive amounts of hubris. He needed Voldemort corporeal in order for him to be defeated. He used Voldemort’s own plan to further his own ends. Admittedly, Cedric wasn’t meant to die that night, but Dumbledore thought it a wonderful addition to his plan of breaking you.

“Couldn’t you do anything, Hermione? Anything at all?”

“I tried, Harry. I really did try and come up with something, Ron wanted to steal your thunder, so I tried to ensure Cedric would win, but Ginny and the Twins tipped the balance. Ginny wanted so much for you to win the contest and the Twins thought it would be the funniest thing if it turned out a tie. In a conflict like this, the only choice I had was to have you reach the cup simultaneously.”

“He wasn’t meant to be there?”

“A strong possibility existed for him to survive the tournament and become Minister for Magic one day.”

“How does that even WORK? I mean, you’re saying he was destined to live? How could Cedric die if he was fated to live? How does something like that happen?” Harry looked so very lost and disgusted all at the same time.

“Dumbledore happened. He had the Elder Wand and one of the properties of the Elder Wand is the ability to change destinies and meddle in the affairs of fate.”

“So, then its Dumbledore’s fault Cedric died?”

“Him and some others... Relax, Harry. If it makes you feel better. The afterlife holds you blameless in the death of Cedric.”

“So, why did Dumbledore do all this? I mean, I thought I finally understood why he did all those crazy things, why he made my life so bloody awful, and now I’m faced with the realization that I did not know that man at all.”

“He felt defeating a second Dark Lord without resorting to killing him himself would wipe him clean of his debts. Indeed, he thought to ‘save’ others by imposing his ‘No-Killing’ philosophy upon the Order. Suffice it to say, say he was mistaken.”

“What do you mean?”

The afterlife is governed by many beings. None of them are pleased with the extra work he has caused them. Sacrificing the innocent to attempt to redeem the wicked,” she scowled as she said it. “It is his fault that good people whose skein of fate should have been much longer... but for the death stick he carried.

Harry’s eyebrows raised themselves as if to touch his hairline. “It really did belong to death?”

She nodded. “To one, yes.”

“Then my father’s cloak?”

“All of the items that wizards know as the Deathly Hallows once belonged to a personification of Death once upon a time... that is what gives them the power to alter destinies. The wielder has the benefit of the items’ innate power, as well as a certain fluidity in terms of Fate and Destiny. Dumbledore did get one thing right, the Cloak is the only safe Hallow for mortals to use; the Death Stick and Resurrection Stone all enact a terrible price upon their owners.

Harry gulped. “What kind of price?” The worry was evident in his voice.

Giving Harry a queer half smile, she tried to assuage his fears. “Not to worry, Harry. You’ve already given up the two dangerous Hallows of your own free will and you have allies both here and beyond that will keep you from any lasting harm.” She blushed and looked away.

He slowly nodded twice and thought back to that horrible night when he had walked into the clearing to die. His parents, the Marauders... he was sure she meant them. He glanced up and just barely caught her eyes. Suddenly, he knew. She was responsible for taking care of him in more ways than he thought possible.

Mulling over this new information, a thought occurred to him. “Speaking of Dumbledore, I saw him when I was... you know... He seemed fine, happy even?”

Hermione facial expression flattened and in an empty voice she spoke, “The tracks were not for you... No train then and no train now will carry you hence. Judgment awaited he who thought himself equal to the gods. In death he does not find release, in ending he has no new beginning.” Her voiced trailed off and her right hand was quickly raised to her brow as if she were dealing with a minor headache. “Sorry about that. That was an aspect of my divinity that I seldom use in these modern times.”

“That was a bit freaky...”

“You could just say I have some sway with the dead and let’s leave it at that.”

Harry sat back... this was a lot to take in. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Were you involved with getting Sirius out of Azkaban?”

Hermione began to whistle and her eyes seemed to be looking anywhere but at him.

“Hermione Jane “Freyja” Granger...”

“All right. Yes, I did have something to do with that - in a roundabout way.”

“How roundabout?”

*Sigh* “Well, it all started when Ron got jealous of Hedwig...”

XXXXXX

<A Bit Later>

“Hold on just a minute – you’re telling me that the reason Sirius got free was so that Ron could get an owl of his own?”

“Yes.”

“Despite the fact that you tried to explain it simply to me, I think I’m finding it hard to believe because you made it too simple. Maybe try again with a bit more detail?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, then we’ll go with the complicated version. Ron wanted an owl. His parents couldn’t afford one for him due to him breaking his wand in second year and also due to their trip to Egypt. THAT was another whole mess that I had to arrange simply because he’d heard too many of Bill’s stories.”

She paused for breath.

“I learned from Dumbledore that Sirius Black was your Godfather and also that he was innocent. Incidentally, Dumbledore was well aware that Sirius was an animagus and he also knew about Peter Pettigrew, but it wasn’t in my purview to right that particular wrong... what I was concerned about was getting rid of scabbers, because deep down Ron didn’t like the hand-me-down rat, and getting Ron an owl.”

“You should know that when Hermione was active, Freyja didn’t have a lot to do when she was residing in the back of Hermione’s mind, so she spent her time reading minds, making mental lists and planning how to fulfill nascent Hearts’ desires of various Weasley children. For example, she helped Charlie meet Fleur by arranging for Dragons to be part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. This ultimately led to Bill’s fondest wish of marriage. In fact, she helped grease the wheels so that Dumbledore’s plan of having the Tri-Wizard recommence in modern times in the first place.”

Harry had a skeptical smile on his face. This was really something else.

“Taking the opportunity presented before me, the Hermione in me thought you might enjoy having your Godfather available to you. I visited Azkaban and re-worked his mind so he’d be sane enough escape. I even gave him the inspiration to use his animagus form, something he hadn’t figured out in the 12 or so years he’d been stuck in that horrid prison.

“I had to help him survive some of his more daring close calls, but I eventually got him to Hogwarts.”

“What about the…” Harry brought his hands together and made a spinning motion with his fingers. “You know…”

“Oh, that? Hermione did actually want to take every course available at Hogwarts, so Dumbledore suggested that McGonagall request one from the ministry. They wouldn’t have granted the request if I hadn’t intervened, but I did and Hermione got to take classes and everything else that went with it.”

“I thought there were rules about doing things like that. How did that help fulfill Ron’s heart’s desire?”

“Pay attention, Harry.” She admonished. “I was working to get Ron his owl and for him to get an owl, I had to have Sirius Black grateful to Ron and apologetic for the loss of Scabbers. Dumbledore had always planned for Peter Pettigrew to escape that night which is why he arranged for Trelawney to make a fake prophecy while under the Imperius Curse. He was disillusioned in the tower and had her make it when you were about to leave. I kept his plan on track so Sirius would survive and escape just so Ron would get to keep that miniature owl.”

“What about my patronus?”

She smiled at the memory. “That? That was completely you, Harry James Potter. I was truly, very impressed. It certainly saved me from having to go with my A plan.”

“So, you weren’t in any danger?”

“Strictly speaking… no, but I appreciated that I was one of the reasons you were trying so hard to get your Patronus Charm right. I’d never seen such a young man cast that charm before. You really are exceptional, Harry.

He blushed. “Thanks.”

“You know, I was so impressed that I actually modeled Hermione’s patronus after you.

“How so? Your Patronus is an otter… I don’t see how that relates to me at all.”

“The Patronus Charm calls forth a protector, more specifically; it calls forth an animal form that represents a person’s innermost desire for protection. As you said, Harry, my patronus is a Patronus Otter. Abbreviate the word Patronus and then say aloud what form my protector takes. I think you’ll get the idea.”

Looking confused, he said, “P-Otter.” Then his face took on a stunned expression before swiveling his head to look Hermione directly in the eye. “Me?” He mouthed.

“Yes, Harry - YOU.”

“Was there ever any doubt? You came to Hermione’s rescue when a troll was attacking her; you fought a thousand year old, killer basilisk in part because it put one of your best friends in the Hospital Wing, though mainly to save a family you barely knew from heartache. If that doesn’t convince you, consider that you also did your utmost to save Hermione and your Godfather from, what you believed to be, certain death at the hands of Dementors. I mean, I’m divine and even I can’t see where the ambiguity is coming from.

“An otter is a member of the weasel family… I thought it might mean… well, you were dating Ron…”

Gob smacked at this particular bit of idiocy masquerading as logic, she responded, “First, A ferret is also a member of the weasel family, that doesn’t mean I fancy Draco. Second, Hermione dated Ron because he wanted to take Hermione away from you.”

“He WHAT!?”

Yeah, as early as Fourth year, he wanted to upstage you and prove he could have something you wanted.

“Wait a minute. Something I wanted?”

“Well, someone, I suppose.”

Harry gulped uncertainly. “Then… you know how I…”

“Yes, Harry, I know… I mean, Hermione knows how you feel.”

“Then why-“

“It’s very hard to explain, Harry.”

“I have complete faith in your ability to explain the unexplainable. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

At that, Hermione plopped down on her back, hands coming up to cup her head as her arms stretched. She groaned low for a few moments then sat back up. “You WOULD ask that of me, wouldn’t you? Figures…”

“I figure I have the right to know why the woman I love and I can’t be together.”

“You know how I said that my involvement with getting Sirius out of Azkaban was complicated?”

“Yes…”

I was mistaken. THAT was complex. THIS is complicated.

“Then un-complicate it, Hermione or Freyja or whoever you are. If Hermione cares for me the same way I care for her, then by god I want to know why.”

“A part of The Rules contains the Doctrine of Free Will and Fate. Essentially, I cannot force mortals to indiscriminately fall in love. It does not fall within my purview. Hermione, however, isn’t your typical mortal. She’s a construct, an artificial creation. In theory, I can make her do anything I want. In practice, it isn’t that easy.

In the seven or so years that I’ve been Hermione, she’s grown… In fact, she’s grown so much through her interaction with you that if she was a separate being, I’d be like a proud parent to her grown up child. Hermione has grown up, has her own likes and dislikes and has her own wants and desires. Although she is an aspect of myself, she hasn’t really been me since you met her that first day on the train. The problem is that she isn’t a separate being. According to The Rules, due to her artificial nature, I should have forced her to love Ron Weasley.

The crux of the matter is that I am bound to do all in my power to fulfill wishes. So, while I CAN make Hermione into someone that loves Ron, when you get right down to it, she doesn’t want to be with him, and neither do I. You have to understand, Harry… no matter how much or how little I want to be with someone other than my husband, I am still a married woman and that also falls under the Doctrine of Free Will and Fate.

“This made Harry’s brain hurt. “Wait, wait wait… So, what you’re telling me is that if Ron wanted Hermione, then he could have her because she’s not real, but because she’s actually you, who is real, he can’t have all of her. Her being Hermione who is you, but isn’t. Oww…”

“Like I said - complicated.”

Harry reviewed the explanation again through his head one more time. “You said ‘how much or how little’. I am going to go out on a limb here and assume that by ‘how little’ you were referring to Ron. So, when you said ‘how much’ you must have then been referring to...” He blinked his eyes, and his heart pounded in his chest as he breathed out one word. “Me…”

Hermione nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “There are some rules that I cannot break.”

He wanted to comfort the distraught woman in front of him. Unfortunately, a horrible realization struck Harry. This entire fantastical tale centered on Freyja, Hermione and the Weasleys. They were central characters in this entire ludicrous play, a play in which Harry Potter had played but a bit part. There was no reason that Hermione should tell him any of this. In fact, the only reason she would tell him the truth, the only reason that she would reveal her feelings for him, would be if she was going away and wanted a clean break. He started to shake his head in disbelief. “No, Hermione. Please tell me it isn’t true.”

She bit her lip, a distinctly Hermione-like gesture, nodded her head in silent affirmation and let the tears flow. She bowed her head so he would not see the tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

Heedless of their captive audience, he took her in his arms and held her until the crying subsided.

“It’s not fair. I love my husband every bit as much as I did the day we were married, but I’ve been without him for about as long as you’ve been alive. I love you as well and every bit as much and you’re stood right in front of me, but I can’t be with you. This sucks SO very much.” She complained while still being held.

“There’s nothing we can do?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re sure?”

“Hello? Goddess, here. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

“Well forgive me not wanting to give up hope. I love you and I refuse to accept that Hermione “Freyja” Granger cannot find a loophole in this.”

I’ve looked, Harry. Believe me, I’ve looked. The Rules are explicit and implicit; even the Norns themselves can’t break The Rules and they’re the ones that wrote them. I can no more be with you than I can leave anyone with the ability to discuss what I’ve just told you.

Harry looked horrified. “You mean you’re going to wipe our memories?”

“Only yours.”

What about the Weasleys?

I intend to simply compel the Weasleys to never discuss my interventions and everyone else will always remember Jimmy was a boy.

“Why only wipe my memories then?”

“You know too much… and I think it would be better if you didn’t to remember that I left you.”

“So, a mercy memory wipe, sort of a mental euthanasia?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can I make one final request?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking me for a last wish?”

“Something like that.”

She mentally debated this for a few seconds before she responded. “This is highly irregular and I can’t believe that I’m even considering this.”

“But you are…”

Okay, Harry. One last request, but it can’t be for me to stay with you or any derivation of that. The Rules wouldn’t allow it.

“I want to kiss you AS IF you were my wife and I want to remember it forever.”

“But I already kissed you at the end of Fourth year.”

“No, the last request was that it should be like a husband to a wife. I’ve only cottoned on to it lately, but that was a kiss like a best female friend saying goodbye to a best male friend.”

“Ron wanted to make his move on Hermione sometime after Fourth year. Hermione wasn’t consciously aware of what was going to happen but she did want to kiss you”

“I know that now, damn him to hell. Well, will you grant my final wish?”

“Sure. In a sense, I suppose this is my last wish as well. I’ve always wanted to really kiss you, you know.”

XXXXXX

The kiss was tender, sweet, magical and hot. When it ended both were breathless, flushed and so turned on that it was a wonder either could stand it. That single kiss had lengthened and lengthened and Harry was certain that by the end, she had done something to give them more time. He was eternally grateful for the time and for the kiss. He wondered how she was going to reconcile her desire to memory wipe him and his wish to allow himself to always remember that kiss.

As if reading his mind, she answered as if he had spoken aloud. “You’ll keep that memory as a daydream of unusual vividness, but Hermione will have transferred out of Hogwarts after she got petrified by the basilisk*.

“Good bye Harry…” She weaved herself back into his arms for the final time.

“Will I ever see you again?” He could feel a tingle as the powerful mind magic gathered in her hand. She would wipe him soon.

“No, but I’ll see you. I’ll be watching and expecting great things from you, Harry James Potter.” She prepared herself to mentally re-write the memory of the only man she had ever loved aside from her husband. She told herself it was for the best, that he still had a chance to be happy, that if they could not be together then he, at least, deserved to be happy. Her eyes began to water anew. Deep wrenching sobs tore themselves from her and she had to stop before she even began. It just hurt so much…”

Harry had closed his eyes not wanting to see the pain in her eyes even if he would soon not remember it, but opened them again when he heard her start sobbing. In the back of his mind he noted that the tingle from the gathered mind magic had dissipated. What he saw startled him. He shook her lightly to get her attention. This was extraordinary. “Hermione…”

Her eyes were closed in an effort to stem the flow of her tears. “Please don’t speak Harry. This is hard enough as it is.” She said between sobs.

“Hermione… your tears… you’re crying red and gold tears…”

“WHAT! There’s no way.” *SNIFF* “I only cry tears of Red and Gold for my Husband…” She jerked back as if she had been burned and tilted her head as she focused a stare at Harry. “I ONLY cry tears of red and gold for my husband, so proclaimed the Norns on our wedding day. My husband who has been missing since around the time you first defeated Voldemort,”she whispered. Hermione began to look outraged. “My husband, who disappeared doing the Norns’ bidding, MY HUSBAND for whom I cried those same tears of red and gold daily while I searched for him.” She swallowed hard and touched Harry’s cheek. “Oor… is that you?”

XXXXXX

To Be Continued.

Author’s End Notes: Completely new material for those who read this previously on Seel’vor’s Yahoo Group will begin in Part 3. I want to thank all the people on the aforementioned Yahoo Group that gave me such amazing positive feedback. Thank you all so very much.

Author’s Suggestions:

Umm... how about DeliverMeFromEve’s “Forever Knight”. The second half is truly excellent.

Tears of Red and Gold part 3

By Xelan

A/N: Still sorta rough, but I didn’t want people to think it was abandoned. I am making a very concerted effort to get back to writing. I do NOT intend to abandon this.

XXXXXX

Before Harry could answer, four post owls flew into the room. With no one else available to receive them, the four owls converged on Harry and Hermione.

Hermione’s hand was still cupping Harry’s cheek when the owls landed right beside the two and lined up awaiting the chance to deliver their mail. One tried to nibble on Harry to get his attention, but Hermione would have none of it. She gestured with her other hand and all four owls turned stiff as stone. “I’m waiting, Harry. Are you or are you not my husband?”

Harry began to breathe hard and his eyes started to take on a golden glow as brown marks similar to Hermione’s began to appear in dim outline on his face.

She swallowed hard as a familiar feeling made itself known. She could feel him, her husband; she could actually sense him again. He was right in front of her, she was sure of it.

He closed his eyes briefly and then in a tired voice he spoke, “Freyja... You’re safe? Oh, thank the Fates above...” and then the glow from his eyes began to fade.

Hermione choked. No! She thought. He’s leaving! Her right hand flew to her chest as she concentrated hard; trying to focus on the connection she had always had with her husband but had abruptly lost 16 years ago.

He touched her cheek tenderly, in much the same way she had touched his, and his emotions: endless love, deep feelings of regret at their separation, burning desire, and so much more flooded through her like a wave.

“Oor! Wait! Don’t go!” Her hands moved to clutch at his shirt, gripping it so tightly that Harry could feel the fabric pull. Hermione “Freyja” Granger came as close as she had ever come to breaking down in public. “Don’t leave me, Oor. Please! Please, don’t leave me again!”

When the glow completely went out, the hazy marks on his face also disappeared, and the intimate, always-present sense of him left her; Hermione lost all strength in her body. He’s gone...she thought despairingly.

Limp and almost boneless, she dropped forward into Harry’s arms and was gently coaxed into lying down. This time her head was gently pillowed on his lap. He stroked her hair and she cried softly and clutched his other arm close to her. “It’s not fair.”

“He’s not gone you know...”

Hermione had turned around and was in his face in the blink of an eye. “WHAT!? Explain yourself!”

“I said he’s not dead.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed at the re-affirmation. “That’s what I thought you said. I have just experienced the loss of the love of my immortal life for the third time in just a little under a quarter of a century... I am in no mood for games, Harry.”

“I know things now.” He paused as if ordering his thoughts. “I think I’m finally beginning to understand why everything happened the way it did.” Wonder was evident on his face.

Intrigued, she gazed into his eyes and extended her senses. She gazed deep, searching for her husband’s presence. “So... is my husband is speaking through you or were some of his memories left behind?” she finally asked.

“Actually, I am your husband.” He smiled at her. It was at once both Harry’s smile and not. It was at once both Orr’s and not.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile back at her purported husband. “THAT MAKES NO SENSE!” She began to shake him vigorously.

“If you’ll let me try to explain...” he stammered in between shakes.

Ceasing her manhandling, she scooted herself forward to seat herself on his lap. “Go,” she said simply.

“During that fateful Halloween night when Voldemort was disembodied, he wasn’t the only one to have his soul knocked loose.”

“But-but, you bounced the curse back. You survived.” Her brow crinkled. “You’re here, there’s no other explanation for it.”

“Not quite true. There is at least one other explanation...” he smiled lightly at her

“Well?” she asked. The expression on her face was such that if she had been standing it was a certainty she would be tapping her foot.

“Hmm...” he murmured, as though something else had caught his attention.

“What!?” she demanded.

He pointed a finger at something behind her. “Jimmy looks as if his bladder is about to burst,” replied Harry.

Half turning her head around to look at the squirming boy with long red hair, Hermione’s hand made a small gesture and released all the Weasleys’ bindings. Jimmy shot to his feet. Immediately, he tried to hurl invectives at his greatest, most dangerous rival but found he still couldn’t speak.

Amused at the antics of the once again boy, Hermione couldn’t help but giggle as Jimmy performed several rude gestures while he pointed fervently at his mouth. The effect was somewhat reduced by the fact he was bouncing up and down while attempting to cross his legs.

It was only after Jimmy had attempted to use his wand to lift the spell that Hermione took pity on him and broke the silencing magic with a twiddle of her fingers. “I can talk... I-I, I sound like a BOY!”

“That’s because you are a boy, Jimmy.” Hermione explained patiently. She continued in an amused but humoring tone, “You were born that way. Surely you remember?”

The look of horror on Jimmy’s face caused Hermione to break into giggles again and as Harry’s arm went around her waist, Hermione could feel that Harry was struggling to keep from laughing.

Horror turned to anger and Jimmy turned to glare balefully Hermione. “This isn’t over Granger...”But his posturing was interrupted when a feeling of spreading warmth began to flow down his legs. His eyes went wide as nature’s call sounded clearly. He immediately dashed off to the toilet as fast as he could run.

XXXXXX

“Dad!” Jimmy yelled from an upstairs toilet.

“What is it, dear?” He called back as he tried to care for his wife.

“I really need to go! How do you use this... thing? It’s going everywhere!”

Both Harry and Hermione fell over in overt laughter as Arthur’s brow narrowed and his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to answer a question like that from his princess – even if she was now his youngest son.

Getting himself under control, but still smiling and shaking his head at the absurdity that was his life, Harry called out. “Just take the situation firmly in hand and let things flow naturally, Jimmy. Don’t forget to swish and flick.” He had to bite his tongue as he said the last part.

Several minutes passed and after some trial and error and few cleaning charms, Jimmy Weasley stalked back into the room. His expression was murderous and his wand was clutched firmly in his hand. Not only had Hermione returned her to her icky boy body, but she was monopolizing HER Harry. The-Boy-Who-Lived was now a fine specimen of manhood, one she had hoped to entice with her new special lace knickers that currently pinched something awful. Granger would get to see first-hand what happens when you try and steal a boy from Ginny Weasley – goddess or no. He cast his signature spell all the while planning out a list of spells from her D.A. sessions to really make his displeasure known.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

Same result.

From the shocked look on Jimmy’s face, Hermione could have guessed what was going on, especially as she had Jimmy’s measure and so far he was acting true to form. Hermione snapped her fingers and Jimmy was yanked from his unsteady heels to go tumbling through the air to land on a chair right next to his babbling mother.

He couldn’t move from his seat and his wand had been left behind. He wanted to scream bloody murder at Hermione, but the target of his ire simply raised a hand and Jimmy knew he had better be silent willingly or the smug looking goddess would take away his choice in the matter.

In a calm but frosty voice, he asked, “Why didn’t my spell work?” while glaring menacingly at Hermione.

With a pitying look, she answered, “From whom did you learn that spell?”

Looking puzzled at the odd question; Jimmy paused in thought for a second and then answered. “My mum taught it to me.” Still wary of the self-proclaimed goddess, he asked, “Why?”

“I can see she never explained it to you properly. I suppose you’ve never wondered why Ron or your two prank loving brothers never used it in retaliation.”

“Mum probably never taught them.” He retorted.

“Actually, it’s because that hex is one of a rare type of spells that are for witches only; a type of spells that Wizards can’t cast” she lectured. “It was originally created to teach snotty wizards a lesson, so it wouldn’t have been useful if wizards could cast it right back at us.”

Jimmy paled at this news. She had gained notoriety for her proficiency with that spell, but for him not to be able to cast it... for Hermione to be wrapped in Harry’s embrace... this simply would not stand.

Deciding that taking a goddess head on, even if she only looked like an older Hermione was a bad idea, Jimmy decided to switch tactics. He called over in an odd sounding falsetto tone. “Harry, she’s done something to me. No matter what I look like, I’m still me, still Ginny Weasley. We can get through this. I love you and you love me, I know you do.”

Harry’s face took on a pitying expression. “Jimmy...” he started, but that seemed to enrage the boy.

“GINNY! MY NAME IS GINNY WEASLEY!” the poor, confused boy cried.

Harry was taken aback at the passion in Jimmy’s voice, but Hermione maintained a sad expression as she watched the young boy that was coming apart at the seams.

“I’M PRETTY!” he repeated to himself as he broke down crying. “I’M GOING TO MARRY HARRY POTTER! I’M GOING TO BE MRS. HARRY POTTER!” he wailed as his tears transitioned into bawling. His father had to alternate between caring for his wife and caring for his newly returned son.

“It wasn’t my intention for that to happen...” Hermione said softly.

“I know. Jimmy has to realize that I already made my choice... long, long ago.” He hugged his wife. “AND I have never regretted it. Jimmy will just have to learn to deal with reality.”

Hermione still looked concerned. “I suppose so...”

Harry tightened both his arms around her. “Don’t beat yourself up over this; you aren’t to blame for this.

Hermione just looked thoughtful for a few moments. “Harry?”

“Hmm...”

“Are you really him?”

“Yes, more or less.”

Hermione leaned back slightly so she could look straight into his eyes. As a goddess and at her full height, she was very nearly as tall as he was. “I see you…” she said after a moment. “You’re you and yet you’re not. I believe you… but why can’t I sense you?” A hand went up to trace his faint scar.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, sorting through thoughts and memories that were becoming more natural to him by the second. Concepts, ideas, and theory that would have been completely alien to him even an hour ago were, to an immortal’s perspective, rapidly becoming second nature to him. He opened his eyes. “You’re still looking only for Oor, but I’m not just Oor anymore. I would be willing to wager that you know what Harry feels like as well. Try looking for neither Oor or Harry, but both at the same time.

Hermione nodded hesitantly. Her eyes closed, a tense look of determination graced her features and the tip of her tongue poked out provocatively from between her lips. She could feel him now that she knew what to look for – she mentally memorized that feeling. She would NEVER lose track of him again if she had anything to say about it.

A warm breath brushed over her face. Hermione’s eyes opened and a fierce, predatory look entered her eyes. There, in front on her was Harry and her husband. She didn’t have to choose between the two, and now she was within kissing distance of her husband and Harry (something she’d been longing for). In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but think, life is pretty good sometimes. She leaned forward to take advantage of their closeness and smiled as a wisp of her husband’s thoughts flashed through her mind.

And with you, life is even better. Harry thought.

Breaking the kiss, Hermione pulled back to look up at Harry’s face. “Well then, I’ve waited very patiently... years, in fact. I’ve waited years to find out what happened to my husband after he disappeared. I am so glad I didn’t have to wipe your memories, and I love you, but I love my husband and I need to know what happened. I have to know, Harry.

TBC