Chapter 15
"Hey mate."
Remus looked up from his book to see James settling beside him. "Hey, yourself. How're you doing?" Shoving aside a few ledgers, he made room for his friend.
Half shrugging with his good shoulder, James grimaced. Remus' expression became stony. He'd been badgering James to go to Alex about his shoulder. It wasn't healing as it should have but his friend was too stubborn to ask for help. "You're being stupid," is what he'd told him.
"I wanted to talk about Padfoot," James began without preamble. Remus exhaled in relief. He'd wanted to raise the topic but hadn't known how. It seemed somehow disloyal to talk about another Marauder behind his back. Well, if he and James were going to prank Padfoot, that would be fine but this seemed different.
"Good," Remus replied.
James eyebrows cocked in surprise but then he shook his head. "You've been seeing him more than me so I bet you know more about what's going on with him." Remus nodded, his expression sober. James was on the same tack as his own thoughts.
"I'm getting worried," James cut to the chase. "He's going too far."
Remus' thoughts flashed back to the night he was so badly hurt. Things went balls up and Moony was hurt because Padfoot lost control on a mission, no bones about it. It was to be a simple intelligence raid. They were breaking into a long-term records facility that the Ministry Human Resources department used to house the tonnes of parchment they generated every day. Magic recalled it to their offices in the Ministry building when required, but for storage, the forms were all kept in a remote storehouse in rural Lancashire.
The objective of the mission was to penetrate the flimsy wards, copy as many rosters of the current ministry departments as possible and get the hell out before anyone responded or five minutes - whichever came first.
It all went balls up when they encountered a lone Death Eater in the facility. Walden Macnair was in the records doing his own snooping when Sirius opened the door. It seemed that old Walden was looking for some dirt on one of his `brothers'. Sirius lost all control when he saw the black robed figure in front of the filing cabinet. Without warning, he pointed his wand before casting a pain curse at the man.
As Macnair fell to the floor screaming, Remus tried to stop his friend. "Dammit Padfoot! No magic!" They didn't know for sure, but many facilities like this were warded to detect if magic was cast on the premises. It was a low fidelity intruder detection scheme. Most wizards wouldn't hesitate to cast a simple charm to help them find or hide their goal, so this defence worked well. Somewhere in the Ministry building, an alarm would sound to indicate that the ward had been tripped.
It also detected hostile casting just as easily as it detected the non-hostile. Swearing, Shacklebolt and Tonks had run into the boxes, crates and filing cabinets, casting as many Summoning charms and Administrative Filing charms as they knew. Stealth was out the window as they tried to bull rush to their goal before they were discovered.
Remus struggled with Sirius for a long moment before giving it up. The wide-eyed frenzied expression on his friend was a bit disturbing, if truth were told. Glancing down on the moaning Macnair, Moony told Padfoot, "Just finish it quick." He had no qualms about killing the man; he just wanted to get the hell out of there before the bloody cavalry showed up.
They showed up too soon. As the other three stuffed their copies into bottomless bags, Sirius was still torturing the now fatally wounded Macnair. Seven Death Eaters arrived just as Remus', Shacklebolt's and Tonks' hands were occupied with forms.
Before he could even react, Remus caught a Bludgeoning curse in the left forearm, breaking it cleanly. Wincing through the pain, he blinked furiously to clear the tears that reflexively sprang to his eyes. Before he could focus, another Bludgeoning curse to the side of his head rang his bell. Drawing his wand and dodging incoming curses as he tried to clear his vision, Remus cast a wide area Cutting curse that left two Death Eaters without legs as the stumps below their waist spouted blood like a fountain.
Shacklebolt was duelling with a masked Death Eater who was surprisingly skilled. Most of the new recruits were thugs, but there were many of them. Voldemort and his followers had been very aggressive in their recruitment efforts before and after the Dark Lord's resurrection. Fortunately, most of those that the small band of counterinsurgents encountered were morons who could only cast the Unforgivables along with a few other nasty curses.
Remus dropped to his knees before he painfully rolled behind a crate. Once there, he pocketed his pilfered forms before looking about. After a few deep breaths, he stood, casting a series of Reductor curses as covering fire.
Tonks had felled a short Death Eater before moving to the next. Remus saw that she was holding her own as he turned to find his next opponent. The Reductor that clipped his leg nearly took if off. One inch to the left and the curse would've left him a three legged werewolf come full moon. As he grimaced in pain, another opponent pressed the former Defence professor with what was called the Broken Glass hex. The hex was painful, but not fatal. The end result left him with a bleeding and swollen face.
Snarling in pain, Remus cast a precise Piercing charm that emptied the content of his opponent's cranium out the back of his head. The charm worked the same as a .45 calibre bullet: small entrance hole, BIG exit hole.
Remus turned, determined to not be caught unaware again, but he was too slow. Between the Reductor curse to his leg, the Bludgeoning curses to his head and arm and the Broken Glass curse to his face, he wasn't moving too quickly. Like a punch-drunk boxer, he wheeled into the next assault. The Bludgeoning curse that hit him in the ribs was a Dark derivative that caused the grey haired Marauder to panic in fear. He was helpless to fight back as Lucius Malfoy drawled, "Oh, good. Another beast."
Swelling from deep within his subconscious, Remus felt an unnatural uncontrollable panic rising up his gorge that scrambled his thought and drove him to scream in unmitigated terror. The shriek that tore from his throat was primal and wild, choked with emotion.
At that point, both Tonks and Shacklebolt overpowered their opponents, forcing Malfoy to withdraw. Remus had a vague recollection of Shacklebolt working over him for a few minutes until the unnatural fright receded. Then the pain set in. Grunting as he was helped to his feet, he saw Sirius approaching, bloody up to his elbows with spatters of gore on his face and in his hair.
"You alright?" he asked nonchalantly.
Remus didn't reply, just grunted to Shacklebolt, "Let's get out of here." Ten metres of limping later, they portkeyed to a safe house that Shack had set up years ago. Only he and Amelia knew about it so the group figured it was secure.
Groaning again, Remus lay on the couch as Shack cast a series of diagnostic charms. Frowning, the quiet big man turned to his rookie partner, "Get me a vial of Taylor's Pain potion and a portkey to James' place. The potion is on the third shelf of the cabinet and the portkey should be in the second draw of the side table next to my chair."
Looking back at the werewolf, Shack elaborated in his concise way, "I can't fix you. Your woman should set you to rights, though."
Gritting his teeth against the rising pain, he asked, "Where the hell is Sirius?"
Shack paused, pursing his lips in disapproval. "Taking a shower I think."
Two minute later, Remus was dosed with the pain potion and had a portkey shoved in his hand. After Shack carried him in his arms outside of the safe house's portkey wards, Remus was on his way to Spain and Alex.
James looked at his lap as Remus finished recounting the story to his friend. The morning when Remus had woken from his healing sleep, he'd been furious at his friend. So too, had been Alex.
"I'm going to fucking kill him!"
Apparently, so too was James.
Prongs jumped to his feet as he began to rant and rave. Pacing to and fro, he waved his hands in the air, punctuating each shout with a dramatic gesticulation. Remus couldn't help it. His laughter bubbled up from deep inside, from one of those places that we all hold dear and protect. This image of James was one only a few people had ever seen. The Marauders, Lily, of course, and maybe Harry and Hermione had seen this side of Prongs. No one else had seen James really let loose and it warmed Remus' heart to see it again after so many years.
As he wiped the tears of mirth from his face, Remus muttered, "I missed you so much, James. I can't even begin to tell you." All the tension and fear were bleeding out of him as if from a punctured balloon.
Wiping his face clear of the wetness, Moony saw Prongs regarding him with a very familiar annoyed expression. This started another round of the giggles until Prongs starting cuffing him on the shoulder, "It's not funny, Remus!"
Gaining control of himself, Remus agreed with James, "You're right. It's not funny. In fact, it's rather disturbing. Look," Remus placated, "When I woke up yesterday, I was pretty angry, too. I've had a day to cool off and think about what happened."
He levelled his gaze at his time-displaced friend, "Sirius has always been the most vicious of us all. The little incident with Severus and Moony was not an aberration." Remus paused, allowing James the time to think about this tidbit. Aside from the James/Severus rivalry, Sirius was always the first Marauder to draw a wand in a confrontation. Always the first to cast a dangerous or damaging curse.
It's always disquieting to acknowledge an unpleasant aspect of a loved one. To admit that one's son is a bit brutish, one's daughter is unmotivated or one's wife is more than a little self-centred. Yesterday, Moony and Alex had worked through this revelation about Sirius. While not new, it was a new admission about their friend - brother really. And like all family - true family that is - it didn't diminish their love one iota. Sirius was Remus' brother and he loved him. Would die for him come to that, but would never reject him.
As James calmed, he sat on the chair next to Remus, laying his forehead on the desk. Remus smiled. James would always do this when he needed to shut out the outside world in order to process some new or complicated fact. Finally, he took the deep breath that Remus had been waiting for as the signal that James had his mind around the problem.
When Prongs sat up, Moony was a little taken aback to see a tear down his friend's cheek. "He's been hurt so badly," James whispered. "His parents, Azkaban, our supposed deaths, Peter's betrayal, Harry's abuse and now this Living Death thing." James turned to his brother in all but blood, "We need to bring him home, Moony. We need to get him out of Britain. We lose him a little more each day that he's out there killing."
Remus always knew that James was smart, but to see him emotionally reconcile himself to this new admission about Sirius then take the next three logical steps, two of which Remus hadn't even contemplated, was very impressive. On top of that impressive display of deduction, James was right. Nodding his agreement, Remus told his friend, "Alright. I'll go get him tomorrow."
His face serious, James shook his head. "No. I'll go home and call to him with your communication charm. Then I'll bring him home. You have to start working on the list."
Remus nodded again. The required ingredients for the potion and the ritual, while long, weren't arduous to purchase. The powdered Unicorn horn and the condensed mermaid tears were going to be bit tricky, though. Alex had already been to Paris apothecaries both legal and not so in order to get a healthy chunk of the list. With a few days' work Remus and his beloved should be able to round out the purchases.
"How's Lily?" Remus asked with a grin.
Rolling his eyes, James smiled. "She keeps asking me if I want honey with this or that."
Moony chuckled. James and Sirius' malfunctioned attempt to contain the bees was a great story that Lily had spread about the villa within minutes of James' wakening. The old friends both relaxed; James placing his feet on the desk as they looked out the window to the sea below.
"You know, I'm absolute balls at sailing."
Moony smiled, "Really? I thought all rich people were good at sailing. Isn't it required to inherit?"
The raspberry from his right wasn't unexpected.
The talk devolved into two friends just being together. Finances of the Richmond holdings forgotten, the two men reminisced about the past as they speculated about the future.
"Four," Remus opined.
"No way. I'm thinking at least six," James insisted.
"You're high. No more than four."
Lily strolled into the room, hearing the exchange. Remus waved to her in greeting as he continued his argument with James. Knowing Lily, it would be a few short minutes before she interrupted. It happened after six seconds.
"What are you two children arguing about?" she asked in a dry tone.
This was the game that stretched all the way back to their seventh year and Remus loved it for he inevitably came out with Lily on his side. "James thinks that Harry and Hermione are going to have at least six children. I say no more than four."
Remus was still enough of a Marauder that there was a hint of glee in his heart when Lily turned her incredulous face on her husband. "What, you think that genius of a girl is going to be some brood mare?"
Silently pumping his fist, the quiet Marauder celebrated as Lily gave her husband what for. The grin lurking underneath James' scowl warned Remus that a counterattack was soon to come. Moony sighed. He'd missed this so much. Now they just needed Padfoot alongside with a few pints and all would be right in the world. The friends moved to Harry's room after a bit to sit with him and Hermione, but for a few short hours, the clouds receded as they just lived.
.oOo.
…ves en pau, per estimar I servir el Senyor.
Once again, Hermione made the sign of the cross at the end of mass. Genuflecting as she left her pew, she gave Father Sanchez a small smile that he returned. She didn't need to tell him that things were better; her whole demeanour announced her hope. She waved to Grandfather Chavez. Again, she'd walked into town with him for mass. He merely smiled to her as he chatted with some of the other widowers as they made their way to the tavern for a coffee and tapas.
Hustling out of town, she strode to her Apparition spot. A quick spell indicated that no one was watching so she twisted in place. A heartbeat later, she stood on the veranda of the La Retirada. Neatly folding her scarf, she strode into the house. Humming the Gloria to herself, she allowed a small smile to cross her lips. James had told the family that he was able to lead the ritual. Remus and Alex had assembled well over half the ingredients of the potion as well as the entire necessary for the ritual. Things were beginning to fall into place.
"You know, Harry, when I was pregnant with you, I was terrified."
Lily's voice startled Hermione. The hope that Harry had awoken on his own flashed through her mind like a thunderbolt. Unable to breathe, she hurried to the door of her and Harry's room. Disappointment flooded her as the breath trickled out her mouth when she saw Lily holding Harry's limp hand. He was still in his coma.
"I was terrified I'd be a terrible mother. What did I know about children? My mum did the best she could with us, but look how Petunia turned out. I love James with all my heart and soul, but I was scared at our ability to be good parents for you."
Stilling, Hermione watched the auburn haired witch stroke her son's lifeless hand as she told the story. The brunette witch could tell this was a story that Lily'd never told before. The hesitation in the woman's voice alongside the occasional hitch in her tone gave away the depth of emotion in the other witch.
"But then you were born." Hermione smiled when Lily added in a wry undertone, "And wasn't that fun. Anyway, after James held you, kissing your little brow, he handed you to me. All my fears doubled then fled. I didn't know you very well and to tell the truth I felt incredibly guilty that I didn't love you instantly." Lily leaned over, kissing her son's brow, "But I knew that I'd move heaven and earth for you. I'd throw myself under a lorry for you if that's what it took to keep you safe."
She smoothed Harry's hair before cupping his face with one hand, "Not too long afterwards, I was completely in love with you and so too was your father. I was ready to die for you that Halloween night, but I'm very glad that I didn't. These last months have been the happiest of my life.
"Don't worry about your little brother or sister. They may take a lot of our attention after I deliver because he or she'll be so dependent on us physically, but you are, and always will be, my firstborn."
Hermione strained to hear Lily as the older woman concluded, "I love you, my son."
Leaning on the doorjamb, Hermione smiled. Hope. Love. Life. This was what they fought for. In about a month, Harry would be returned to them. Hermione remembered what the grandmother had told her about her own husband's injury in the service of `The Great Liberator' the other day after mass. "I cried over him for a week before I shouted at him for a month. Then I loved him for a week straight. He was too tired to go running off to war after that!"
It sounded like a grand plan to Hermione. Glancing at her watch, she wondered how James was faring. He was supposed to bring Sirius home this morning by hook or by crook and she had her own part to play in Prongs' plans.
Heading to the entryway, she pulled the portkey that James had left for her off the shelf. She had a quick visit to make. Hestia was in Zurich after all.
.oOo.
"Rauri," James called.
The family retainer appeared in front of his master in the middle of a deep bow. "Yes, my lord?"
James smiled. He really loved this elf. "We'll be securing Rowan Hill in the upcoming days. You'll need to come to Le Retirada until we reopen the house."
There was a crease of displeasure in Rauri's expression before he bowed again. "Of course, my Lord. I shall place all the food in stasis before departing forthwith."
James left it alone. It was evident that the major domo of Rowan Hill was less than pleased with the idea of vacating the house. He knew that Rauri was passionately attached to the family seat and it was probably causing the elf physical pain to leave. However, the Swiss ward casters were arriving the day after next to lock down the property beyond what they'd already done. After the initial survey, the firm of Haus Schutz Ltd reported that the Rowan Hill had extraordinary wards - mainly the additions Harry and Hermione had cast in the recent months under Sirius' guidance. However, for foolproof protection they would need to Hide the house outside Space and Time.
The gist of the procedure was that the ward crafters were going to create a pocket dimension inside which nothing could survive. They would send the house and grounds into that dimension only to be recalled by the Head of the Potter family. The shrubbery, trees and wildlife on the grounds would automatically be placed in suspended animation, very similar to what happened to James and Lily. However, this banishment could only be ended upon the Head of the family summoning Rowan Hill back to this dimension. James had insisted upon that condition.
Not himself, he'd argued, but the Head of the family. October 31 of 1981 weighed heavily on James' mind so he had planned for the unexpected occurrence of his death. Even Harry's possible death had been taken into account. Should Harry sire a child in the near future then all would be well. If he shouldn't…none of it would matter anyway.
"Is there anything in particular you'd like moved to that Spanish house, my Lord?" Rauri asked in what was as close to an insolent tone as James had ever heard.
Looking about the entry hall with the suits of armour and the tapestries, James admitted to himself that he was a bit old fashioned in his beliefs, but at the same time, it hurt his heart to even consider anyone other than his own blood living in this house. He'd rather burn it to cinders than surrender it to interlopers.
There was a bit of a shiver that ran down his back at the thought of the house and grounds going to the same place that he and Lily had spent so many years after being banished by that bastard.
"Just the portrait of my father and Grandfather Cadfael, please. Just in case." Rauri nodded, a bit of his equilibrium evidently returning before he popped away to attend his tasks.
Shaking his head to ward off the `goose over his grave' feeling, James plucked his wand from its holster. Deciding to get down to business, he cast the Communication charm, summoning Sirius to the house before settling down to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Now frowning, James glanced at his watch. "It's been an hour, where the hell is Padfoot?" Prongs mused in an annoyed tone. He recast the spell with force and more than a hint of urgency.
Ten minutes later, a soot streaked Padfoot Apparated into the entry hall. The scowl on his cousin's face took James aback. "What's the goddam hurry, Prongs? I was busy."
Cocking an eyebrow, James wondered aloud, "And why were you conducting an Op during the midmorning? I'd be willing to bet you were alone, also."
Shrugging, Sirius flicked some debris from his sleeve. "Had a window of opportunity so I took it."
James stood there, waiting. This was a favourite tactic of Sirius'. He'd be nonchalant while firing out a brush off statement, trying to bluff his way past the questioner. It was too bad that James had taught him the technique.
"Really." James' deadpan tone caused Sirius' confident posture to melt a bit Prongs was glad to see. The messy haired wizard pressed, "Want to pull the other one? It felt so good the first time. Might want to stand back, though. You're bound to get a bit messy."
Sirius gave a short chuckle, the sound of dry twigs snapping underfoot. "Wouldn't want that," he murmured as his eyes drooped and shoulders sagged. "We could get arrested in thirty countries for unnatural behaviour like that."
Once Sirius finished with the usual comeback, James told his cousin, "You need to come to Spain for a bit."
Frowning, the obviously muddleheaded Sirius replied, "Why would I need to do that? I'm doing good work here."
"Like?'
"I just burned Malfoy Manor. Those bastards will need a new home plus all the dark goodies inside are gone forever." The grin on Padfoot's face was scarily feral. In fact, James was more convinced than ever that Sirius needed the family as much as they needed him.
James nodded to fill the silence, which Sirius took to be encouragement to elaborate. "Since my bitch of a cousin is the Lady Malfoy and I'm the head of her blood family, I had access through the wards. I doubt that loophole will be open for very long. Yesterday I burned both Lestrange homes using the same gap."
James' eyes widened. On the one hand, it was a stroke of pure genius. While much of the Malfoy and Lestrange family wealth was in their Gringotts vaults, the overall family value of both families had taken a significant blow. Combined with the loss of dark artefacts and the libraries of both families would most likely have them reeling. Combined with the strike at the heart of a man - his home - Sirius had accomplished much in the previous twelve hours.
On the other hand, though, "How did you do it?" At Sirius' questioning glance, James elaborated. "How did you burn them down?"
"Fiendfyre."
A soft exhale was all the deflation that James wanted to show. Any loss of life in the destruction of the homes didn't bother him at all. Fiendfyre, though…that was pretty dark stuff. James was no fan of the Dark Arts. Flashes of his family that was long dead passed in front of his eyes. Aunts and Uncles. His twin cousins Haydn and Ioan who'd burned to death. Forcibly supressing a shudder, he kept his gaze steady.
Changing topics to avoid a useless argument, James told Sirius, "We think we've found a way to wake Harry."
The lost look in Sirius' eyes grew, as he seemed to lose focus on his surroundings. The stoop became more pronounced as Padfoot's face fell. "Really? Good."
It seemed to James that Sirius' physical demeanour was indicative of his confidence and how well he was holding together. Based on the slump of his shoulders and the pained look about his eyes, Padfoot wasn't doing too good at all.
"Hermione's been asking for you to come home," James continued. He knew he was hitting below the belt, but it was necessary. That what he was saying was also true wasn't really the point.
"Remus is laid up for a few days, but is helping us gather the necessary to get Harry on his feet."
Now Sirius covered his face as he drew a ragged breath, but couldn't answer.
"Lily keeps asking for you to come home. Moony told her he did his best, but you didn't want to come."
James pushed harder, throwing his ace on the table with as much power as he could muster. With a tone dripping pain and sadness, he told his cousin, "Hestia stopped by yesterday. When I told her you weren't there, she started to cry."
Sirius staggered. As he dropped to his knees, James enveloped him in his arms. The uncontrolled weeping finally began. At first, it was just a stuttering breath. James tightened his grip, holding his brother in all but blood. Sirius went limp as his psyche fell apart.
Sobbing alternated with groans. Sirius lay weakly in James' arms and all Prongs could do was wait. Again, he was waiting. This time he was waiting for this first of many storms to pass.
Looking back on the past months, he realised that Sirius had been holding on by his fingernails. Caught up in the excitement of his exoneration, Lily and James' return and his reuniting with Harry, Sirius had thrust aside his pain. James had been right when he told Moony that the combination of growing up the son of Walburga and Orion Black, his extended stay in Azkaban, their supposed deaths, Peter's betrayal, Harry's issue and all had really torn the man apart. Finding Hermione and Hestia had helped him to hold on even longer. Love was truly powerful. In the end, though, the damage always shows through.
Like the cracks in a plaster wall, they always return, despite how many coats of paint one applies.
Sirius wept.
And James wept with him. Sirius was wounded in mind and soul for which healing could only occur in time for time heals all wounds.
"It's alright, Padfoot. I love you, brother." Sirius' fumbling grasp of a hand was all the answer that James needed. Now they could begin to heal him. First had been Harry, now it was Sirius' turn.
.oOo.
Alex sat at her vanity table going over her list for the day. Now that they had an actionable path to waking Harry, she spent very little time in Paris. The little smile that crossed her face wasn't missed by her lover as he watched her reflection in the mirror. Since their reunion, Remus had treasured every moment they had together. The old saw, `Absence makes the heart grow fonder' was true. He silently resented every minute they spent apart, even when it was his choice.
Remus watched her tick down the lines and smiled. She was infamous for her lists. One thing she must've forgotten from her list for the day was to get dressed. Right now, she sat in the chair mother naked.
Remus wasn't objecting.
"Hey," he called softly.
"Yes?" she purred in reply. Turning in her chair, her expression was smouldering. Remus gulped, his mind going blank. As she stood, freezing for a moment for him to drink her in with his eyes, Moony thought he might die. They'd already made love once this morning but it looked like round two was imminent.
Remus wasn't objecting.
"You wanted to ask me something?" she breathed as she slowly crawled up the bed.
"Oh, God," he groaned. The view was exquisite and her expression maddening.
"Really? You want to pray now?" she whispered as she lowered herself on to him.
There was no thought - nor prayer - for the next twenty minutes.
Remus wasn't objecting.
Sweating and trying to catch his breath, he held her as she cuddled close. "I remembered what I was going to ask before you seduced me."
The husky chuckle from deep in her chest was just as sexy as her little seduction from earlier.
"Before I lose all control because of your ravishing beauty and incredible sexiness, I wanted to ask you if you were going to associate with a hospital in Paris or maybe Madrid to get back into practice."
Her smile faded. With Voldemort's takeover of Britain, Remus knew that she had forsaken her position at St Mungo's. She had been the Assistant Head Internist, a fast track position to Department Head status. Her specialty had been magical diseases, but in her grief over his abandoning their relationship, she'd thrown herself into her career and her fast progression had been the result.
Now, though, her career in Britain was too dangerous to approach. Within minutes of her entering St Mungo's, the Death Eaters would know of her presence. Not expecting Voldemort's bold move to take over the country, he and Alex hadn't hidden the resumption of their relationship. Most likely, the Death Eaters knew of their connexion, as well as, that of Sirius and Hestia.
"I think…" she began in a pondering tone. "I think that I'll have more than enough work to do soon enough."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You becoming a seer?"
Her poke in his ribs caused him to squirm a bit. "No you arse. I doubt we were the only ones to get out of Britain before Voldemort shut down all public magical travel out of the country. I'm also sure that the Potter family isn't the only family in Britain with a private dedicated Floo out of the country like the one between Rowan Hill and Le Retirada. I also think that most, if not all, the half-bloods know how to use the ferry or drive out in the Chunnel much less ride in an aeroplane." Shaking her head in disgust, she muttered, "Voldemort is such a bloody moron."
Catching her drift, he pulled her closer. "We'll need to organize." She nodded before he added, "And have a leader."
"Albus?" she asked with a hint of distaste.
"Or James," he countered.
"Or James," she agreed. "Maybe there should be a council of leaders so as to consolidate all the factions that have escaped. Maybe even add some representatives from France, Spain and any other countries that are willing to assist the effort. That's how it works at the hospital with each Department Head on the Hospital's board."
Remus smiled as he kissed the crown of her head. "You're so incredible in so many ways. I love you."
He could feel her smile on his chest. "I thought you loved my cracking arse?"
The bubble of laughter caught him by surprise, "That too."
The Floo fired as James left. That was their cue that the hard part of the day was beginning. Giving his beloved one last squeeze, Remus rolled to the side of the bed. Shuffling to the lavatory through the humid warm air, his joyful mood became grim. He wasn't looking forward to this.
.oOo.
Hermione staggered a bit as the portkey deposited her in the sitting room of the flat that Hestia worked from with Amelia and Albus.
Looking about, Hermione saw the threesome sitting about a conference table, frozen in comical expressions of conversation. Albus had his hand raised, a finger pointed to the ceiling and his mouth open. The old man's eyes had swivelled from the object of his interrupted discourse to take in Hermione's unexpected appearance.
Amelia was leaning back in her chair, staring at the ceiling while her hands were interlocked underneath her bosom. The woman's entire demeanour screamed `frustrated witch who wants to clout the longwinded old man sitting next to her'.
Hestia had a quill to parchment and seemed to be taking notes from an impressively sized tome that was open on the table. It seemed that she'd been writing as her posture had frozen except her eyes had swivelled up to see who the newcomer was through her brows.
Straightening her dress, Hermione ignored the well-apportioned apartment. While not overlarge, it was definitely plush. "Good morning, all," Hermione greeted pleasantly.
Hestia unfroze, returning Hermione's smile as she replied, "Good morning, Hermione. What brings you here?"
The pleasant smile fell from The Smartest Witch of the Age's face as she replied, "I need to speak with you. Now."
From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Amelia blink at her tone while Albus frowned. Ignoring the two as not relevant for the moment, Hermione gestured to the door from the room.
Her brows furrowed, Hestia rose, leading Hermione from the room. The apartments turned out to be much larger than Hermione expected. Following Hestia down a long hall, they ended up in a library, which was richly furnished. "Tea?" Hestia offered.
"That would be nice." Politeness would help ease this forthcoming bitter pill.
The house elf popped in with a silver service before Hestia poured for the two of them. Hermione took hers with one sugar while Hestia took milk. Hestia settled back into her chair, regarding the younger witch with an evaluating expression and waited.
Hermione felt affection for Hestia, very much is she was honest. However, what was happening to her foster father was very preventable and Hestia was as to blame as Sirius. After a demure sip of her tea, Hermione began, "Right now, James is forcing Sirius to come home."
The blonde politician's cool demeanour shattered as her expression became alarmed. "Is he hurt? What happened?" The tea was nearly cast aside in her rush to sit forward as if her posture would hurry the flow of information.
In a cool tone with her expression matching, Hermione told the blonde witch, "He's slowly losing his mind."
The older witch's eyes widened in fear and surprise, before they closed in silent pain as she groaned, "Oh, God…"
"He was too busy torturing a Death Eater to death to assist Remus during a raid. Remus was almost killed." Her deliberate lack of information regarding the happenings of the other night drove home the simple truth of the situation.
To anyone who knew the Marauders, that statement was an unequivocal description of one of them losing their grip on reality. Deciding to be honest as well as forthright, Hermione added, "I'm not sure that he's truly losing his grip on reality, but he's desperately hurt and needs the family about him."
Leaning forward, Hermione's accusing and implacable gaze burned into the witch across from her, "All the family."
Hestia looked away causing Hermione internally to swear in a fashion that only Harry had heard her do and even then infrequently. Reaching out, the brunette witch gently grasped the woman's hand, hoping to coax her back into the discussion. There was hesitancy, but Hestia finally returned Hermione's gaze. The two witches had had a rough and rocky start, but their relationship had blossomed since. Hermione respected Hestia's drive and intelligence, while Hestia, in turn, valued Hermione's regard and valuation. While not a sisterly relationship, neither was it parental. Hermione reflected that her attitude toward and interaction with Hestia was a case outside of conventional bounds.
In a softer tone, Hermione nearly pleaded with her adopted father's fiancée, "I don't know why you spend most of you time here, nor do I care. We need you at home. He needs you at home."
Deflating, Hestia's expression became one of profound sadness and grief. If Hermione had any doubts as to the blonde witch's true feelings toward Sirius, the expression on Hestia's face gave truth to her declarations of love. As her body seemed to curl in on itself, the confidence and self-assuredness that Hestia usually had about her dissipated like smoke in the wind.
Finally, she spoke, "But I'm so useless to everyone." It was barely a whisper, but clear nonetheless. "Here I can help. Here I can be useful."
Stunned at the admission, Hermione stared for a long moment before reaching out to take the other woman's hand. It was all she could think to do for the moment, but it seemed to help.
With a pained smile, Hestia shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "Sorry, but it's how I feel."
Understanding flooded Hermione. All those months at Hogwarts where Hestia would sit and listen but not offer an opinion became clear. The young woman who'd captured Sirius' heart was not a warrior, nor even an academic. She was a competent witch, to be sure, but she was a politician. She had nothing of technical merit to offer in their councils.
In a tone to match Hestia's, as if she were imparting a great secret, Hermione told the woman, "Because we love you, and you love us, you are of great value. Always."
Hestia sniffled a bit. Withdrawing a handkerchief from a pocket, she dabbed at her eyes. "I know that here," she replied tapping her temple, "But here," she tapped her chest, "Is another story."
"Would you mind if I were blunt?" Hermione asked.
Hestia gave a real smile, "And you haven't been so far?"
Wagging her head while smiling in return, Hermione blushed a bit, "True. I'll be more frank than I've been so far, today." The smile faded as Hermione's eyes became more focused and her expression serious. "This isn't about you, it's about Sirius. It's about saving his soul and his life. It's not about what you feel or want."
Hestia flinched. There was a long pause as Hermione could tell she was mulling over her words. A few seconds passed before the blonde nodded her agreement. "True enough. I'll tell Albus and Amelia that I need to go." She gave a rueful smile, "It's not as if they're actually paying me."
"I'm sure it won't be forever," Hermione offered. "I'm sure that at some point in the near future you and maybe Sirius can come back to pick up your role here."
Hestia gave Hermione a long, evaluative look before telling her, "You were right. It's about being there for the man I love. I'll sacrifice everything - my career, my ambition even Britain itself for Sirius."
Hermione's smile was wide and genuine. That's what she wanted to hear. "Can I help you pack?"
.oOo.
Hestia was pacing the main sitting room as the family waited for James to bring Sirius home. A half hour earlier, Prongs sent Lily a quick message via the Communication charm to tell her that he had Sirius and they would be home soon.
Soon? What the hell is soon? Remus groused to himself. Shifting in his seat, he looked about the room in his nervousness.
Hermione was in with Harry, as usual. Something had changed in the young woman in the last few days. She was more at peace with herself about what had happened to Harry. Definitely, she was more open about her faith, which Remus thought was great. He was an occasional attendee at his local Anglican church, but mostly had lapsed from the faith of his parents. Part of him respected Hermione for not only adhering to her faith but also clinging to it in this time of need.
Then again, he respected the bushy haired witch very much for many reasons. This was just one more to add to the list.
Lily and Alex were reviewing the ingredients for the potion that Lily and Hermione were to start in two days. The lunar cycle was of great import to the fermenting of the potion, so they had to start it at the New Moon. There was an excitement in the family now. Despite the problems with Sirius, everyone was smiling again.
He'd never tell Padfoot, but it was evident that Harry was the axel about which the family turned. Now that there was a plan for his recovery, most everyone was able to breathe freely again. Even with Sirius' problems, there was concern for the wizard, but there wasn't the overwhelming gloom that had cast a pall over the family for the last month since Harry's incapacitation.
Except for Hestia.
Moony scowled into his lap. He was very disappointed with the shorter, blonde witch. He expected better from a woman who'd claimed Padfoot for her own. But who was he to judge? He'd abandoned the woman he loved more than his own life in his confusion and despair after that horrible Halloween.
Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that Hestia's life had fallen apart when Voldemort's coup was successful. She'd lost her job, her possessions and her friends in a day. In turn, Sirius had pulled away from her as much as she pulled away from him. Watching her worried face as the woman paced, he considered. Alex had been through the same, but hadn't abandoned him. Through narrowed eyes, he mused, Maybe Hestia is just as dysfunctional as Padfoot, it just doesn't show as much.
Jumping the tracks of his thoughts, he recalled when Neville and Susan had approached Lily a few minutes before.
"Aunt Lily," Neville had begun in a questioning tone. "Susan and I figured we'd take a walk until lunch or so to give the family time to get Sirius settled and all." When Remus heard that proposal, he'd smiled. Turning about, he leaned on the wall to watch the fireworks. Intervening, he tried to soften the blow, giving Lily a chance to exercise her newfound self-control.
"Neville, you and Susan are as much a member of this family as I am. You don't need to go anywhere. In fact, I believe that Lily was about to tell you that we need you here for Sirius."
The newly ascended head of house Longbottom blushed as he nodded quietly. Susan fidgeted at his side but said nothing. It was clear that she was going to be wherever Neville chose to stand, come hell, high water or both. He liked the redhead. She had sand.
Lily had quietly laid a hand on Neville's arm as she reaffirmed Remus' words when she told first the young man then his girlfriend, "You are part of our family as much as Remus and Harry. James and I want you both here. We need you both here."
Just at the edge of his hearing, he heard Hermione mutter in the other room. "That's a good shave, Harry. I'm getting quite good at this, if I must say." Her words brought him back to the present while bringing a smile to his face.
She did for Harry just as a wife would. Smiling, he was glad that Hermione stood by her man. Just like Susan was for Neville. Like Lily and Alex were for James and himself.
Is that what's bothering me? he wondered. Watching Hestia turn in her pacing, he deliberated if he was standing in judgement of her and her actions. If so, it was a damn dirty thing to do. He'd treated Alex very shabbily indeed all those years ago. It would be hypocritical for him to stand in judgement of the woman when she'd been through her own crisis and not responded at her best.
Frowning a bit, he realised that he was being a bit sexist. To be fair, the men had been there for their women as much as the ladies for the gents. In the end, they were family and the family was rallying once more for one of their wounded.
The roaring of the Floo ended his internal discussion and delayed his resolution for a later day. James and Sirius were home.
.oOo.
Hermione rushed from the bedroom when she heard the Floo fire. Ignoring everyone, she focused on the fireplace. She noted that the family was all gathered, waiting but ignored the rest. From the corner of her vision, she saw Hestia move to the fore. Nodding to herself, she knew that was right. Sirius needed the blonde witch to be waiting for him, arms open.
Unconsciously, she moved with the others as they formed a loose semi-circle about the fireplace. It took less than a few seconds, but by the time James and Sirius stepped from the fire, the Family was waiting.
In a glimpse of the eye, she took it in. James was first. His face haggard, she saw him look to his Lily first. He moved to her as she moved to him. Whatever had transpired must've been significant. She'd only seen James this shaken twice before: when he'd found out about Harry's abuse and after seeing Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Sirius was next. In fine clothes that belied his obviously shaken and shattered state, he strode from the fire. Hestia had him in her arms before he was completely upright.
Right behind her, Hermione wrapped Sirius in her own embrace. Remus engulfed the three of them in his wide armed embrace. She could feel Sirius' deep breaths as he tried to keep control. Very low, she heard him mutter, "I'm sorry," to Hestia.
She tightened her grip as he sagged against their collective embrace. Again, he muttered, "Sorry, Hermione."
Her heart broke at the defeated tone that he used. "It's alright, Sirius. We all love you. I love you."
There was a shuddering breath and Hermione could tell that he was steeling himself. It was easy to see how he felt that he'd betrayed Remus, especially given the relationships between the surviving Marauders.
"I'm so sorry, Moony."
Remus nodded, shaking the little pile of humanity. Words weren't necessary at this point. Sirius had demonstrated that he knew he'd been wrong. He'd stepped beyond the pale for a bit. As all good people know, its family and love that brings them back. Only James Potter could have brought Sirius back from the edge. Any longer and he'd have been swallowed by the abyss.
Hestia couldn't have done it, neither could have Remus. Neither Hermione nor Harry could have brought him back. Only James, his brother, best friend, and if Sirius was really honest (and smashed) he'd admit that James was his hero.
The moment passed. Standing, they all backed up to give Sirius a moment. Hestia stayed in the circle of his arms - where she belonged. After wiping his face, Padfoot looked at the assembled family, one by one. Hermione could tell that her adopted father was a bit surprised to see so many there, but was gratified, nonetheless.
"I need to see Harry," he murmured to Hestia. She nodded sadly before stepping aside, letting the dark haired man have an open path to his godson's sickbed.
No one followed, save Hermione. She knew that Sirius would never hurt Harry, but she trusted nobody where her fiancé's safety was concerned. Not his mother, his father or his godfather. Therefore, she followed.
When Sirius passed her by, she finally noticed the wafting smell of smoke that rose from him. Frowning, she noticed the smudges of ash on his clothes and face. Darting her eyes to James, she couldn't get his attention for a silent query. Giving it up as irrelevant, she stood in the doorway of the bedroom she shared with the stricken The Boy-Who-Lived.
Leaning on the doorjamb, she crossed her arms as she watched Sirius sink to his knees. Fall was probably a more accurate term. He moved like a puppet with its strings cut. Laying his head on the bed, she heard him sigh. "It's too hard, Pronglet. It's just too hard. I can't do it any longer. The dreams…"
Sirius was silent for so long, Hermione thought he'd fallen asleep, but after two minutes of silent prostration at his godson's bedside, he admitted, "Killing them is the only way to keep it all at bay. I can…" he paused, ruminating. "The best defence is a good offense, the saying goes and that's where I am. Running alone in the dark."
Hermione was horrified at his next admission, "When I escaped Azkaban, I thought I was finally free. How wrong I was. I carry Azkaban with me wherever I go."
Sirius wasn't telling Harry all this. He was the convenient immobile figure that Padfoot was talking at. The mess that was his psyche was overflowing and the words were full of pain, loathing and outright agony.
Holding herself, now, Hermione vowed to follow up with Alex. The other night at dinner, she, Lily and Hermione had discussed arranging for Sirius to see a Mind Healer. They'd all agreed that they'd adopt a `wait and see' attitude. Well, she'd `waited' and `seen' and it was evident that Sirius needed more help than the Family could offer.
There was another long pause. Finally, Sirius roused, his eyes red with fatigue and emotion. Shuffling to the door, he paused, raising his hand to his adopted daughter's shoulder. He gave her a brief squeeze before leaving the room. Behind her, Hermione heard Sirius tell the room, "I need a shower."
.oOo.
There was a charm to dry her hair with magic, but Hermione preferred to towel dry her hair after a shower before letting it air dry. The feeling of her damp hair as it lay on her neck seemed to complete the `freshly showered and clean' feeling for her. True, it enhanced the bushiness of her hair, but she didn't care.
The house was quiet as the family had scattered to various pursuits prior to dinner. Sirius was `taking a nap' with Hestia while Neville and Susan took a walk down the beach. Alex and Remus were in Berlin running down a lead on an obscure potion ingredient. They had told everyone they would stay the night in Germany before returning the next day. James and Lily had run into town for takeaway dinner, as Rauri was unable to cook dinner.
Rauri had very solemnly informed James that, "This house is a veritable den of filth, my lord, and it will be some time before I can have it clean to Rowan Hill standards." Hermione smiled as she held her face to the warmth of the setting sun. Rauri was in a very polite snit about being forced to leave the family seat and his very subdued and well-mannered outrage was amusing to the young witch. Every so often, she heard a clatter or scrubbing as the elf took the villa by storm.
The Master Bedroom that she shared with Harry was enormous so that it had windows that faced both to the sea and to the mountains in the west. Hermione found the sight of the setting sun slipping behind the veil of the mountains to be poetic and moving so she made a point to watch it most days. Sighing, she moved her fingers through her wet hair as she cinched the bath sheet more firmly about her torso. With her eyes closed, she took a deep breath, holding it to help steady her emotions.
Sirius had been home for a week now. He was hurt…actually, it was probably more accurate to say that his deep-seated hurt was finally showing. Either which way, her adopted father was home. Alex had murmured to Lily that she'd consult with Jeanette and some of her other Healer friends in Paris to see if they could find a discreet mind healer for Sirius to visit. He'd not had the obvious emotional collapse as he'd had upon return to the fold, but he obviously needed to talk to someone and the family was too close to him. What the situation called for was a dispassionate third party with whom he could lay all his issues on the table without that listener being affected. There was no one in the house who fit that description.
Hermione had come to really like Alex. The willowy blonde healer was a kindred spirit. They'd had many discussions. For some, Hermione had been too distracted by the sight of her immobile fiancé to pay attention to what was said. To Alex's credit, she never reproved Hermione, just picked up the thread of the conversation wherever it'd been dropped.
Slowly, she let the breath trickle from between her parted lips. The hope that had been planted the other day with Alex's discovery was slowly growing, hopefully to bear fruit - if I can stretch the metaphor a bit, she smiled to herself. Clamping down on her emotions, Hermione didn't want her hope to become unreasonable belief that everything `would be fine'.
The sun was warm on her face. The dying sea breeze filled her nostrils with a faraway scent. Africa? It wasn't that far off, but still quite far. Maybe it was just the olive grove…
"God, but you're beautiful. I love you."
Smiling in contentment, she automatically replied, "I love you too."
With a start, she processed what had just happened. Terrified, she opened her eyes before slowly turning to the bed.
Sitting up in the bed with a contented expression of love and devotion was Harry. A wide-awake Harry. "Harry?" she asked in a tremulous voice.
"Yeah," he breathed, as he seemed to drink her in with his eyes.
Slowly, Hermione moved across the room. Her unreasonable fear prevented her from running. She didn't want to startle him, afraid that it would send him away from her. Her hand tentatively stretched out to his.
He smiled to her, that crooked smile that made her heart hiccough. It did so now and Hermione thought she was dying. Was this real? Was he really awake and loving her with his eyes? There was an air of unreality about the situation. In a very small corner of her mind, she was afraid that this was all a dream.
The electric moment happened when her extended hand touched his upraised one. His coarse, scarred hand was warm and dry, but there was an unmistakable knowing of Harry.
The deep breaths came unbidden as she attempted to stay calm. Her hand closed around her fingers, solidifying the connection. The tears were running down her cheeks before she knew that she wanted to cry. Gently, he pulled her closer to the bed. The sobs of relief - of love - began. Unable to control herself any longer, Hermione threw herself into his open arms.
How long is a moment? For some it is a mere second, for others it can be hours. Either way, when pressed years later, neither of the lovers would be able to tell how long they lay there in each other's arms holding each other, being held by the other.
Wetness dripped onto her cheek. From the circle of his arms, she looked up to see him weeping. His voice seemed to envelop her, "I heard you crying, but couldn't come to you. I heard your fears and tears and my thrice-cursed body wouldn't do as I wanted. I wanted to take you in my arms to tell you that I lived. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. I wanted to tell you that this separation was as much a hell for me as it seemed to be for you.
"But I couldn't and for that I'm sorry."
More tears from her preceded the lengthening of their embrace. Her face turned up to his, reaffirming with her eyes what all her senses were telling her: Harry was back. His kisses covered her face, a physical love and affection that she'd desperately missed.
Hungrily, she returned his kisses. His hands were in her still damp hair, pulling her into him. Her hands pulled at his T-shirt, tugging it over his head. He stripped the bath sheet from her as he moved overtop her.
Their joining was a frantic reaffirmation and expression of their love. Eyes open, they loved each other with all their might. In a real sense, they were feverishly averring that they were both there, he that she lived and she that he lived. That their love still lived and thrived. All their hopes and fears were brought to the fore and released as they shuddered in each other's embrace. At the end, she called his name as he called hers, their terrors fleeing into the growing darkness.
She smiled in contentment like the cat with the cream as he nuzzled her neck. His weight was a comforting, safe feeling that she'd missed terribly. It wasn't just the sex, though, that was wonderful in itself. No, she'd missed this unique expression of their love. It was a irreplaceable part of their relationship where she laid herself open to him, trusting him with her body and soul. She felt honoured and humbled that he did the same with her.
"I think you're purring," he whispered.
She kissed his ear. "I love you," she whispered for him to hear, as well as, for the inevitable response.
"I love you, too," Harry whispered again. Slowly, he rolled to the side, pulling her on top of his chest. The tears ran anew down her face.
"Why?" he asked in a low tone as the pad of his finger slowly wiped away the tracks of wetness.
"I've wanted you and been terrified that I was losing you day by day. I was afraid that you were going to die. I'd never hear you tell me that you loved me or recognize when I told you the same." Shaking her head as the emotions crashed and swirled about her, Hermione pulled him tight. After a moment, she levered herself up so that she could look in his eyes.
Naked and exposed without his glasses, the green bored into her soul. She nearly trembled under the intense gaze. With as much emotion and feeling as she could muster, Hermione pledged to Harry, "I love you now `til the day I die."
He smiled as his hand caressed her cheek, "As I love you."
.oOo.
Lily bustled into the kitchen, arms full of bags. Humming to herself, she began pulling the boxes of food from El Polignon, she muttered to herself. "Sirius…James…Hermione," she frowned as she looked about for the seafood salads she'd ordered for herself and Hestia.
"Mum."
Lily froze.
"I'm glad the baby's alright."
Her hand flew to her mouth, as she wanted to scream. The emotions were so strong; so confused and powerful. Her eyes shut as Lily nearly doubled over in excitement. When Harry's arms wrapped around her, she turned to see him. Familiar green eyes looked back at her. Over his shoulder, her mind saw that Hermione was watching the reunion from the doorway wearing a contented smile, but Lily ignored her future daughter in law.
For some reason, Lily was stunned that Harry was taller than she was. Looking up to his face, she framed it with her hands. "How?" she hoarsely asked.
Shrugging, he replied, "Dunno. I heard most everything around me, but," he looked over his shoulder to Hermione, "But I couldn't say anything."
Slowly shaking her head, she told him, "I don't care. I've got you again." Relief flooded her, weakening her knees. Strong arms circled Lily as Harry caught hold of his mother when tile floor rushed up to meet her.
"Whoa there Mum. Let's get you into a chair." The world became a bit unfocused as she was led to the table. A scraping indicated that Hermione had pulled a chair out.
Slim hands helped her to sit as she heard James call out, "Lils, I've got the wine. Do you want to eat outside or in Harry's room? I think inside would be…" she heard him trail off as his voice came in the room.
Looking up when she heard the glass break, she saw her husband standing in a puddle of wine with his mouth gaping open. Harry smiled as he walked to his father. Lily's smile matched her son's as Hermione placed her hands on Lily's shoulders. "Maybe we should get everyone up here to tell the story once."
.oOo.
For Harry, the night turned into an emotional whirlwind. Sirius had sobbed as he held his godson while Hestia's eyes were suspiciously bright. Remus and Alex had been summoned home by James from wherever they had been. Remus ran in from the terrace, not stopping until he had Harry in his arms. Alex followed at a sedate pace, but her embrace had been nearly as emotional as Remus' had been, surprising The Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione had leaned in after they all settled to table, "She's really thrown herself into your cure."
Neville had been the biggest surprise. While he considered the sandy haired wizard a friend, he'd still been taken aback by the fierce hug with the accompanying back slaps from his fellow Gryffindor. Susan's shy kiss on his cheek with a heartfelt, "Welcome back," had been the capper.
Every so often during the dinner - which he ate his share from Hermione's plate and a bit from his Dad's - he saw one or the other of the family sitting stock still while watching him. The thought occurred to him that maybe, just maybe he was an important part of this family in more ways than he thought.
The dinner had been a bit awkward until Sirius had squawked, "Ok, Harry's back but I'm peckish and thirsty. Pass the food!" The laughter had broken the tension. The open windows and doorways let he breeze circulate through the house. Midway through the meal, Hermione had transfigured her chair into a love seat. Pushing Harry into position, they reclined on the seat, picking at her plate as laughter and conversation flowed. It was full dark as they ate, the sconces casting a light that flickered and moved.
Halfway through the meal, Harry felt a plucking on his elbow. Turning, he saw Rauri standing there, his eyes wide. Silently, Harry took the old elf in his arms. He was surprised to hear a snuffle from the stoic retainer, but gave him a smile. Here was the last member of the family.
Harry silently toasted each of them. Hermione was curled up into his side as she picked at her meal. Neville dug into his steak while Susan chatted with Hermione and Lily about a store in town that they all wanted to browse.
Harry turned to his silent father. James was watching his son with an intensity that was a bit intimidating. With a questioning glance, Harry asked his Dad if everything was all right. James Potter had a role in Harry's life that he'd never expected. Father, Dad, Hero and Role Model had shown up as `missing' all his life until the previous Halloween. Now, he had this man who had bequeathed him so much. He needed his Dad as much as he needed Hermione and his Mum.
James sniffled, telling Harry more than words. Nodding to his Dad, Harry wordlessly told James that he not only understood, but also was in complete agreement. Once again, he lifted his glass, this time in his Dad's direction. Softly, he told him, "I love you, Dad."
With shining eyes, James told his son, "I love you, too, son."
.oOo.
The skies were partly cloudy, denying the young lovers the benefit of starlight or moonlight some of the time as they meandered down the beach. For a bit, the sand and surf was illuminated by old Luna and her sisters, then it would be plunged into darkness as the clouds moved in. Eventually, Luna was revealed once again, her pleased face shining down.
His arm about her shoulders, Harry kissed the crown of Hermione's head. The family had talked long into the night, breaking up about one in the morning to head to their beds. Neither Harry nor Hermione was in the mood to sleep, so they headed to the beach for a bit. High tide had been a few hours before so the sand was solid enough to walk comfortably.
James had given them a warning. "Don't go too far. The wards don't go to the beach." The simple reminder had put a crack in their little bubble of love and happiness. Voldemort was out there and ascendant. They couldn't be too careful. Harry had strapped his wand to his forearm as Hermione did the same. Neither made too much of the process, but he could tell that it had the same effect on her that it did on him.
Right now, though, he was bound and determined to forget the war. However, he knew he couldn't. He was the Child of Prophecy.
She stopped, pulling him up by their entwined hands. A bit curious, he looked to her to explain. Since his awakening, there had been few words, for words had been unnecessary. He knew what she felt, desired and needed just as she did for him. Expressions had been the subtle cue as to the intent of their communication and all that'd been needed.
As he expected, she said nothing, just looked at him. He knew how she felt. All those days that he'd lain there, trapped in his body, he'd wanted to scream in torment for what he felt and what he knew his family felt as they sat vigil over him. Right now, each was reassuring themselves that their lover was whole and with them in body, mind and spirit. It was glorious to be together.
"What do you See?" she asked.
Immediately understanding her question, he closed his eyes. Reaching deep within himself, he tried to find that hunch that had been his own minor manifestation of prophecy. The last few times it'd been a strong feeling, but this time, he couldn't find much there at all.
"Not a lot. There's darkness. Pain, but also there's a…feeling. Hope? Happiness? `M not sure. It's a positive feeling, though. It's like the future's a swirl of possibilities." Smiling, he caught her eye, "That's a good thing."
Returning his smile, she agreed. In a teasing tone, she told him, "It is. I was wondering, though. Your Dad thinks we're going to have a Quidditch team's worth of sprogs. I was wondering what you `saw' for us?"
Wrapping his arm about her again, Harry laughed as he told her, "Well, I don't know. Seven kids sounds good, though."
She snorted as she wrapped her arm about his waist, "Says the bloke. You don't have to birth them."
"True," he laughingly conceded. "Seriously, how many do you want?"
A cloud passed over the moon, dropping a veil of darkness over them. He tensed slightly. This was the perfect time for someone to ambush them. It's when he would cast his first spell were he the attacker.
Hermione paused in her reply, her mind obviously following on the same thread as his own. After the moon reappeared, bathing the beach in the silvery white light, she relaxed, telling him "I like four."
Nodding he agreed. "Four it is, then."
They were quiet for a bit, holding the other and being held. Finally, he put voice to the gnawing feeling that had been growing since they left the villa. "The war…we need to get back to it."
"Yes, we do."
Nodding, he deflated a bit. The pink cloud of reunion had burned off in the harsh light of reality. Setting his jaw, Harry reached out with that sense that most magicals have. Feeling his beloved at his side, he reoriented himself. Facing into the light of that which was right, Harry felt his dedication grow. His belief in his calling - in the Light that stands against the Darkness - came rushing back. His back straightened and resolve stiffened.
He'd not been aware of his surroundings the entire time he'd been under the effects of the spell. Things were muddled for a quite a while. His thoughts and memories coalesced forming a coherent string starting about three weeks before. So, I lost about a week. He frowned as he mulled over the words. No, I lost a month. Hearing but unable to move or speak is not living.
At first, he'd been confused. Adrift in a sea of blackness, he heard voices around him, but didn't understand. The sound of the ocean was a strong, ever present background, that was easy to identify but everything else was so much nonsense. Still, he was confused. The persistent thought that he was still battling Voldemort in the graveyard haunted him. He kept looking about the void to find Hermione, to ensure that she was safe, but he couldn't find her. He thought, at first, that she was lost. Later, he concluded that he'd been lost.
Of course, Hermione's voice was the first he'd recognized in the seeming babble that encircled him. Once he concluded that he wasn't in the graveyard under the influence of a spell, Harry relaxed a bit. He'd also forced all thoughts of the confrontation in the graveyard far from his consciousness, focusing on the sounds of his surroundings.
A flash of memory washed over him causing his rediscovered resolve to waver. He had a distinct vision of Voldemort walking through flames. Body unhurt and malice sharpened, the Dark Lord had advanced on The Boy-Who-Lived. In the graveyard, Harry had thrown some brutal magic at the resurrected wizard, yet Voldemort had shrugged it off like a spring rain.
He remembered his fear and it was a festering wound. Wrapping his arm around Hermione, he steadied. Taking a deep breath, he told her, "C'mon, let's go to bed."
A/N
1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first fourteen chapters of Last Casualties. I was pretty blown away by the overwhelmingly positive response for chapter 14. Thanks to everyone who took the time to write a review. Between Chapter 14 and 15, I think we've set the tone for Act II, don't you? It's gonna be a bit grim. But, given that this is a muggledad story, there will be lots of romance and good stuff interspersed with the grim. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on fanfiction (dot) net
2. Recommendation for this chapter A Harmonian Way of Life by Seelvor mainly because of the following quote: "Ron was devouring his dinner with all the grace of a retarded spider monkey..." I always smile and laugh when I read that line. Hilarious.
3. Gilgameshone has pointed out an error I made in the last chapter. I had Alex say that Remus had a `greenstick' fracture. I was trying to say that he just had a crack in the bone; that it wasn't a compound fracture. Gilgameshone (who is a medical professional) pointed out that only children, not adults, get greenstick fractures as a function of the pliability of developing bones. Thanks Gilgameshone!
4. Ok, another whoopsie. I typo-d that Benicarló was in northwest Spain when it's in northeast. Come on guys, I said it's on the Mediterranean, south of Catalonia. Earth to nitpickers: typo!
5. Some of the readers of the last chapter took umbrage to my depiction (or allusion to be more accurate) of being Catholic in the UK. More specifically, some readers seem to think there are Catholics all over the place. In the last UK census in 2001, there were 4.2 million Catholics in England and Wales, some 8 per cent of the population. There are more Catholics in Belgium (overall population ten million persons) than there are in the UK (overall population 62 million). What does all this mean? Nothing, except that there aren't as many Catholics in the UK as some seem to think.
6. Translations from the Catalan text of the story to English.
…ves en pau, per estimar I servir el Senyor.
…go in peace, to love and serve the Lord.
Chapter complete 1/29/12
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