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Harry Potter & the Veil of Shadows
By elaithin

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: R
Reviews: 306
Summary: Moving on, strange dreams, mysterious newcomers, Death Eaters, the Veil of Shadows, and a little bit of life, laughter and love. Join Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione for their last year at Hogwarts - and the first year of the rest of their lives as they learn that just because Voldemort's gone doesn't mean life's going to be easy!
Hitcount: Story Total: 160531; Chapter Total: 9268





Author's Notes:
Significant thanks to my main beta (and loving wife) TeyriJen, who really should be credited as a co-author for this chapters. Thanks also to KitJordan, IcarusPhoenix and TopGun for their beta work.




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Chapter Two - "The Talk"

* * * * *

The next day, Harry found himself extremely disoriented as he looked up and saw the familiar corners of his four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower. He started for a second, quite surprised and not entirely recognizing where he was. Out of reflex, his hand immediately reached for the wand he knew was under his pillow.

A petite hand intercepted his before it got there. "It’s okay, Harry," came the very familiar and extremely comforting voice of one Ginny Weasley.

Her voice immediately set his nerves at ease, and so he reached for his glasses instead. As his vision really came into focus, he noted that the light was all wrong for morning. Not to mention that Ginny was curled up next to him on top of his covers, fully dressed, and looking as though she'd been simply watching him for quite some time. Harry was also quite aware that she had not been in bed with him when he'd collapsed into an exhausted sleep the night before.

"How long?" Harry asked, finally forcing himself to look away from her eyes as he finished waking up.

"All day," she answered, "but I guess that's to be expected. It's about three in the afternoon now. Mum sent me up to try and wake you about a half-hour ago. I just couldn't, though. You looked so... relaxed. Composed." Peaceful, she thought silently. Then, almost as if she couldn't resist, "Cute."

"Cute?" he asked, startled for a moment by the word choice.

"Cute. Especially the way that you held the extra bedclothes like a teddy bear. I thought about getting one for you, but then I remembered all my stuff is at Auntie Muriel's." He could hear the tension in her voice as Ginny strove to keep her voice light, and wondered why. He couldn't know how he had frowned in his sleep, stretching his hand out to someone several times, nor shuddered and shivered uncontrollably until Ginny had curled up beside him and laid her hand on his back. He couldn't know that only then had he calmed, perhaps knowing, even in sleep, that he was no longer alone. "Definitely cute."

"I can live with cute," Harry said quietly, the trace of a faint smile on his lips. "I can't believe everyone let me sleep so late."

He pushed the covers away and started to look for his robes. It took a moment before Harry realized that the torn, burned remnants of those from the day before were gone. He shot a questioning look to Ginny who, in turn, pointed at a neatly piled set on his nightstand.

"Kreacher brought them this morning," she said, her voice betraying the surprise about Harry's house elf; she no doubt remembered how disrespectful the creature had once been. "I don't think you'll be getting the others back."

Harry considered that for a moment. "Probably for the best," he murmured, pulling the robes on as quickly as he could manage. For a moment, he was very aware that this time last year he'd have been much shyer about changing clothes in front of Ginny. However, nearly a year of living a tent with Ron and Hermione had thoroughly diminished any overwhelming sense of modesty he'd once had. He was just grabbing his dragonskin boots (a gift from Fred and George, last year, the thought of the more outspoken of the twins sending a pang through his heart as he pulled them on) before he stopped, catching the silent laughter in Ginny's eyes. "What?"

"You seem to be in an awful hurry. Met up with a veela after all, have you?" she asked, cocking her head as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

"No, I've, wait - what?" he stammered out, caught thoroughly off guard. Of all the questions Ginny could have asked - that really wasn't the one he'd have expected.

"No, no." she sighed theatrically, and adopted a mockingly sad expression. "I understand. You've been gone nearly a year, I'm sure there's a bird in every village from here to London - " Ginny stopped there, no longer able to contain her laughter at the open confusion and panic that had scattered itself across Harry's battered features. Some of her amusement was real, but there was a hollow note to it, too. She was joking, teasing, trying to be desperately normal, but Harry knew her heart wasn't in it.

Harry gave a soft chuckle, once he figured that out. He didn't openly acknowledge the bit of normalcy she was trying to offer him, but he also knew she understood. "I need to talk to McGonagall and Kingsley, we've got to get started on getting the castle repaired, and we need to - "

Ginny was off the bed in a flash and pressed her index finger to his lips. "Hush," she whispered.

Wisely, he did so.

"Now you listen to me, Harry James Potter," she started quietly, though channeling a frightening amount of her mother's determination. "You don't need to do anything. You don't need to help McGonagall get the castle sorted. And really, even without the staff, Hermione is giving her more than enough help. You don't need to see Kingsley, either. They've both asked me to pass on that they'll be in touch but that right now, Harry, you need to relax. You have done your part. You've done more than anyone could ever ask of you. And they'll bloody well carry on without you."

Harry's eyes narrowed in slight suspicion at this. "Did they actually say that, Gin?" He didn't consciously realize that he'd already slipped back into the familiar nickname, despite the fact their present situation hadn't been precisely sorted out.

"I might have... encouraged the stance a bit," Ginny answered as she nonchalantly buffed her nails against the front of her robes, and then examined them in the sunlight.

Harry considered that for a few moments, before deciding that she really was right. He acquiesced by flopping back down on the bed next to her. She wasn't quite meeting his eyes, and he wondered for a moment if she was worried, trying to determine if she'd overstepped her boundaries.

"Hey," he said quietly, reaching over to pull her closer. "Thanks."

He didn't know quite how to say what he should - how much it meant to him that she'd stand up for what she thought he needed, even to the new Minister of Magic and Headmistress of Hogwarts. And how much he appreciated that she was right. So he settled for showing her, pulling her face to his for a slow, leisurely kiss.

"I meant what I said, yesterday," he said when he regained his breath.

Ginny made a contented sort of purr as she leaned into him. "It was a bit mad yesterday. You'll have to remind me."

"I love you," Harry replied immediately, honestly, and this time on purpose. "And I'd rather be here with you than talking to anyone else in the world."

"My my, Mr. Potter," she replied teasingly. "And what makes you think I want anything to do with you? Boy saves the world, and suddenly thinks he's got all sorts of rights and privileges."

"Well Miss Weasley," he quipped back. "I should think there'd be some reward for stopping the greatest Dark Wizard of all time. What's the point in saving the world if you don't get to snog the prettiest witch in it senseless?"

"Oh, you think you're going to snog me senseless, do you?"

"That's the general idea..." he said, leaning in for another kiss. After a moment, he pulled back, surprising Ginny, to finish the rest of his thought. "...but not till later."

Ginny swatted his arm at that. "Prat."

Harry had to laugh at the pouting expression she adopted. He knew a great deal of her theatricality - and admittedly, his own - today was for his benefit, a desperate bit of normal to keep them both sane. Also, a handy way to avoid talking about what they both needed to. "I think we need to talk first though. Not just about us - that's part of it, but about everything that's happened this last year. You deserve to know, Gin, before anyone else does. No secrets. That was... Dumbledore's way. He had his reasons, I know, and to be fair, it did work in the long run. But it won't be mine."

"Harry," she said hesitatingly. "You don't have to tell me everything. You don't even have to explain right now if you don't want to. I can wait. I'll still be here for you. I said I would, and I always will."

"I'm tired of you waiting," he responded, capturing her hand and holding it in both of his.

This was a new side to Harry, Ginny realized. Something gentle, but resolute at the same time. His sense of self had been hardened in the past year. Ginny marveled silently at the changes in him, wondering if she still knew who he was. Harry continued talking, looking in her eyes. "I need to tell you. I know you won't judge me, Gin. You won't push, like Hermione, and you won't fly off the handle like Ron - not without a reason, anyway. I don't want to keep anything from you. Not anymore. Not now, not ever."

Ginny said nothing in response to this, merely cupping his face in her free hand. This was new, too, Harry being so open. And she knew without being told that he wouldn't be this way for everyone. This was for her. She gently stroked the abrasion on his cheek with her thumb with feather-like touches. Harry closed his eyes momentarily at the touch, then opened them and began to talk.

Harry didn't know where to begin at first, and the words came out in something of a jumble. He started with last year, what he and Dumbledore had been up to, and everything that had happened on the night the Headmaster died. He told her how he almost cast the killing curse at Snape - and would have, if he'd been able to finish it. He told her about the mission he'd been left and why Dumbledore hadn't wanted him to tell everyone. He explained fully why she hadn't been able to come with him. Not just because he'd wanted her safe - though that had been the largest part - but that, because of the Trace, she simply wouldn't have been able to. Especially once Tom had control of the Ministry. (Not that he'd predicted that last bit.)

He told her of their flight to Grimmauld Place and Regulus Black, and just how satisfying it had been to nail Delores Umbridge with a stunner, and get all those muggleborns out of there. He relayed the growing unease he'd felt, learning more and more about Dumbledore's family and his history with Grindelwald. He spoke of the long nights on the run in the countryside, of how the Horcrux locket had tried to tear the three of them apart. And how close it came to succeeding, when Ron had abandoned them and Hermione had stayed with Harry. He told her about the disastrous trip to Godric's Hollow and the seeing his parent's graves.

The story turned briefly to her. She did not speak, but squeezed his hand as he spoke haltingly of how he'd looked for her on the Marauder's Map on guard duty, and how proud he'd felt hearing she'd tried to steal Gryffindor's sword back for him. How he'd stare at her name at the map and wonder if she was thinking about him at the same time. If she knew that he was out there, wishing her well, loving her, using the thought of her for strength. He didn't get all that out easily, or smoothly, but it all came out.

He told her how they'd finally gotten the sword, and Ron's return, how he had saved Harry's life. The words came faster and easier than he'd ever thought as they sat for hours, and eventually, he got to the story of the Deathly Hallows and what had happened at Gringott’s. And then finally, to the day before, when they'd returned to Hogwarts. Eventually, he got to Snape.

"I had him wrong, all these years." Harry shook his head, his longer hair swaying out slightly from his head as he did so. Everything with Snape... it was something he was still struggling with. "That's why Dumbledore was so sure of him - because he'd loved my mum. Still did, right up until he died."

"But how do you know?" she asked, looking a little bit befuddled. That was only fair, Harry figured, since she'd had even less time to take it all in than he had, and he felt fairly befuddled himself.

"He gave me his memories - a lot of them, and it was the final piece," Harry clarified, and then pointed to the scar on his forehead. "Well, this was. I.. I found out what the last Horcrux was. It was me. That's why I survived as a baby - with my mother's protection; I was the Horcrux that Tom had never meant to make. I didn't learn that exactly then, not in words. That came later. I felt it, though, and knew what I had to do."

Ginny stared at him in horror. Understanding began to appear in her eyes as she realized why his death had been necessary. She reached out and hugged him fiercely to her, painfully aware of how close she had come to truly losing him. If it hadn't have been for the obscure and dark magic surrounding the Horcruxes... "That's... Oh, Harry."

"I think," Harry started thickly. "I reckon I knew somehow, that all these years there was a piece of, of... darkness in me. I thought it was part of me. I remember asking Sirius if I had, I don't know, gone wrong somehow. Umbridge said it to me once, that I knew I deserved to be punished. All the way back to all those years of living in that dirty little cupboard - "

"What?" Ginny asked sharply, looking intently at him. Her immediate anger at hearing Harry talk about himself that way was overshadowed by the last part of his statement.

Harry looked at her for a moment in confusion, before realizing where it came from. She had never known how horrible the Dursleys truly were. She might have had hints - Ron knew more than anyone, but even he didn't know about the cupboard. His eyes cast down at the rumpled red and gold bedspread for a moment in shame, before he stammered out a quiet response. "I... I never told anyone. Until my Hogwarts letter came, the Dursleys made me live in the cupboard under the stairs. My letter was even addressed to there. They only gave me Dudley's second bedroom, hoping that the letters would stop coming."

"A cupboard? Under the stairs? You lived in there? How could they... Why didn't you..." Ginny grew visibly flustered, her complexion turning pale, then red, a sure sign of an imminent explosion. The idea of anyone forcing a child to live in a broom cupboard, especially when another child had two bedrooms to himself... It was unthinkable, especially to someone who had grown up in a loving family environment. "Why didn't you leave?" she asked, the question bursting out of her before she could stop it. "I know, I know, where would you have gone? But, Harry, you should have told someone... Ron, me... Dumbledore... anyone!"

"I... Gin... I didn't know any better," he said huskily. "Your mum was the first person to ever treat me like a child - to hug me like a parent. I didn't know it could be like that, not really, not until I came to the Burrow."

"Oh, Harry," she said again, reaching out to hug him. She tightened her arms around him as much as she could, almost as if she could force the memories out of him by pressure alone. She'd known that he didn't have the greatest relationship with the Dursleys. There had been ample evidence of that over the years, especially to someone who had watched him as avidly - and unobtrusively - as she had. She may not have understood what she was seeing, but the signs had been there. And Dumbledore had forced him to go back to that... that place... year after year. The hug changed as Harry returned it, enfolding her within his arms, instead of him in hers.

Harry closed his eyes at the tightness of her embrace, and in some strange way, her total horror at everything he'd endured as a small child made him feel better. He'd known intellectually that things weren't supposed to be that way, but the Weasleys, every single one of them, had been the first to make him feel it. "It's okay," he whispered quietly into her hair.

"No, it's not okay, Harry. It'll never be okay that that happened to you," Ginny swore, her blazing brown eyes staring deep into his bottle-green ones. "But it'll never happen again, and that's for bloody well certain."

He carried on with his story then, clearing his throat - several times - so that he could speak. "So I knew I had to go to Tom, then. Dumbledore and the Prophecy were right about it taking 'a power the Dark Lord knows not' to destroy him. Tom could never conceive of sacrificing himself for anyone else. I could never have done it if not for you, for all of you, who mean so much to me. Once he'd killed me, he'd be vulnerable and he wouldn't even know it, as long as Nagini was taken care of. I figured if I couldn't manage it, Ron or Neville would. That's why I told him what to do, when I was on my way out."

"You talked to him on your way out to the forest?" Her voice was carefully controlled. She wasn't angry at him for not speaking with her, letting her know of his decision...

Well, maybe a little.

But the idea of Harry walking out to meet his own death, alone, was almost as hard to bear as the idea of what his childhood had been like. She couldn't imagine the supreme act of sacrifice it had been to do that. To walk past everyone who cared about you or that you cared about, knowing that there was one task that no one could help you with... To walk to the place that you would meet your death, knowingly, willfully, giving up everything that the future held for you...

He nodded. "You were helping this injured girl, and Merlin help me, Gin, when I saw you... I almost couldn't do it. I wanted to unveil right there. To help you, to be with you, to find some other way - "

"Surely, you dying wasn't the only way to stop him. If only I'd known, maybe I could have helped you come up with another way. Anything at all, to keep you from having to make that walk."

Harry pressed on, though. "But there wasn't. I knew that for Tom to be mortal again, I had to die. ' Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives', remember? So I gave myself up. I wasn't precisely alone," he continued, feeling his eyes mist over. "The last Hallow, the Resurrection Stone, was in the Snitch. Dumbledore had left it for when I knew everything. I used it...and..."

"Your mum and dad showed up, didn't they? To be with you," she supplied. He had told her what the Resurrection stone really did, so it was a simple guess to make.

Harry could only nod. "And Remus. And Sirius. They helped me. They gave me the courage I needed to walk right to him.." A small hint of a smile appeared on his face, almost the only one throughout the entire morbid recital, thinking of the looks on the Death Eater's faces when he'd unveiled. "And then..." He drew a breath. "And then he killed me. It was very calm, actually. It was just him and me, and then a flash of green, and I thought about your kiss, and then.... nothing. It didn't hurt. It wasn't scary. It was almost... peaceful, actually." So very different from the fevered, nightmarish imaginings that his mind had tortured him with once he had learned the prophecy. Sirius had been right, he realized. It really had been quicker and easier than falling asleep.

He was caught up in his own mind for a moment, carefully picking apart his own death scene, so he failed to notice the danger signs coming from Ginny. If he had been caught off-guard by the fiery little redhead's reaction about the Dursleys, her reaction to that particular piece of information had been even more.... forceful. It took several minutes before he was able to interrupt her ranting stream of epithets before she was calm enough him to continue.

"I had to do it, Gin," he said quietly, placing his hands on either side of his face. "I couldn't do anything else - not and still be me. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus, Tonks, Fred - they'd have all been for nothing. I couldn't let Tom keep on killing everyone I cared about and there was no other way to end it. Not if y- not if everyone was going to be safe. So I gave myself up for the people I love."

The meaning behind that last sentence was not lost on her. Ginny knew he'd said people - but what he meant, what he really meant - was that he'd done it to save her.

"No," she said sadly. "I don't suppose you could have."

A silent moment passed as all that had been said so far was processed, and finally, it was Ginny who prompted him to continue. "What happened then?"

"I saw Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore?" Ginny responded, taken aback. That definitely wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. Of course he couldn't have actually died and come back to life. That kind of thing didn't happen, except in fairy tales. So of course, his conscious mind had fled while his subconscious had taken over for a while.

But still. Seeing Dumbledore, who really was dead. And it couldn't have been using the Stone... he'd already done that, and the late Headmaster hadn't appeared. That was hard to explain away.

If the topic had been anything else, Harry supposed he'd have teased her about the way her mouth was gaping like a goldfish. Wisely, he discarded that idea, and continued with his tale. "It was in a place.. in-between, I think. Where we go before we cross over. He explained that I wasn't really dead, but that I had done my part. My sacrifice would protect the rest of you, like my mother's had protected me. Tom's curse still couldn't touch me, so it had killed that twisted bit of his soul that he left inside me. And then he.. he told me that I had a choice. That I could go on to.. to, well, whatever it is that's after this. To where my parents were," Harry admitted quietly. "To move on."

He didn't know how to tell Ginny that, for a moment, it had tempted him as well. To be at peace, reunited with his parents. To be untouched by the aftermath of the battle. To not have to worry about anyone else's safety anymore. Surely, he had done enough. What happened after that was no longer his concern.

In short, to give up.

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, not even fully-formed, it had been rejected. He didn't give up. It just wasn't part of who has was. Plus, there were other considerations.

"I knew Tom would be taken care of, even if I'd left things unfinished. I had to be sure, true, and a big part of me just couldn't leave that undone. But.. he's not why I came back, Gin. I was willing to die to beat him, but.. " At this last, he took both of her hands in his once more, and wondered if she knew what he was about to say.

"Harry, you-"

"I was willing to live for you," he confirmed with a hoarse whisper.

Ginny's breath caught in her throat for a moment and tears welled up behind her eyes, completely unbidden. The strength and depth of his feelings, for a moment, scared her. She'd loved him for years, yes, but she only hoped he felt the same. To be willing to come back, after being given a choice like that, all for her? He had come back from the dead for her. It was a great responsibility, to be the recipient of that, and she sent a fleeting thought out to whoever could help her that she'd be worthy of that far more important sacrifice that he'd made on her behalf.

"But why... why pretend that you were dead?" Ginny asked hoarsely, still resting her hands in his. Her head was still reeling from the emotional roller-coaster that the story had sent her own. Why had he done that? Why had he lain there, paraded about by Voldemort - or Riddle, as he was quickly becoming identified as in Ginny's head - in front of everyone. Didn't he know what that had done to her? How her heart had stopped as she'd seen him lying there, so cold and still, presumably lifeless?

She didn't realize that she'd whispered the last thought aloud until he answered it. "It was the only thing I could do, Gin. I needed that shot at the snake. I wouldn't have gotten one if he knew I was still alive. "

Harry continued with the story, almost rushing it now, wanting it all out. "When I came.. back, it was clear that Tom had been affected, too. He put the Cruciatus on me, but I was able to still pretend to be dead, because my sacrifice had pretty much broken his power. Or maybe because he was trying to use the Elder Wand on me, I'm not really sure. But I still had to take Nagini out. Narcissa saved me then -"

"Narcissa Malfoy? Draco's mum?" she asked in shock. "But I thought- How- why would she save you?"

"I told her Draco was alive and in the castle when Tom sent her to check on me," he supplied. "She lied, she said I was dead. I couldn't give Hagrid any hint when he was carrying me, and so I waited for my chance. We got through the forest and back to the castle. "

"I heard you then, when Tom forced Hagrid to cart me out like a trophy. I heard you and the others cry out and had to force myself to stay still." In a long list of difficult things that he'd already been faced with, that had ranked high. To stay still while the girl he loved believed him to be dead at the hands of his enemy, to hear her sudden cry as though someone had stopped her own heart. Perhaps difficult was the wrong word to describe it.

He forced himself to continue with his grim narrative. "Neville distracted them, and he was brilliant, with the way he took out Nagini. There was nothing left between me and Tom then. I used my cloak, trying to get to him as the battle moved inside, throwing spells from under it. I saw you and Hermione and Luna dueling Bellatrix and was coming to intervene when your mum, ah.. got there first."

Mrs. Weasley's screamed epithet and the short, brutal duel she'd held with Bellatrix Lestrange had made it abundantly clear why no one, not even Dumbledore, had ever wanted to cross Molly Weasley.

"Yeah," Ginny said, flashing back for a moment to when the killing curse had only narrowly missed her, and her mum had flown in to her rescue. "I've never seen her like that in my life. It was... kind of terrifying, actually."

They shared a laugh at that, and Harry pressed on. "So when I saw Tom try to go after your mum for that, I knew it was time. I didn't know I could cast that big a shield, to protect you all, but I just did it, and threw off my cloak to get his attention."

"I'd say that worked," she said dryly. She still remembered what it had been like when Harry had revealed himself to everyone. It had been a moment that legends were made of. The sudden electricity that ran through the Hall when he'd appeared, the thrill through her heart that had nothing to do with the way she felt about him... How fiercely glad she'd been to see him, showing up from the grave to save the day. It had stopped the fighting in its tracks, as defenders and Death Eaters alike had all stopped to watch the confrontation between the Dark Lord and the Chosen One. Glad didn't seem to be a strong enough word to contain everything that had run through her in that particular moment, but suddenly, she'd known that they'd win. How could they not, when the Boy Who Lived had returned from the grave, Lived again, to fight on their side?

"It was... different... this time. From the times we'd fought before, I mean. He'd always been control, he'd always been the one moving things, but I had one up on him this time. I knew why the Elder Wand didn't work. And I knew - I'd seen it, in those minutes since the battle started - that he wouldn't be able to kill me, or anyone else, again. So I gave him a chance to save himself - to be human again, to show some remorse." The act surprised him even now, but he couldn't have struck Riddle down without giving him a chance. He really was Dumbledore's man, through and through, it seemed.

"You didn't really expect Tom to take you up on that, did you, Harry?" she asked. "He would never - "

"Well, it hardly stopped him from trying to kill me again, did it? I did, however, have to try." Harry asked with a strange sort of smirk, completely unaware that he sounded more and more like Dumbledore the more he spoke. "The rules had changed, though, and the Wand turned on him - it wouldn't be used against its rightful owner. And... well, you know the rest."

"Why didn't you want to keep the wand?" Ginny asked him, a strange sort of curiosity lingering around the question.

"I like mine better." he answered with a simple shrug. It probably didn't make a lot of sense - well, it probably sounded completely barmy to be honest, but there it was. "But.. no one's ever getting a hold of the Elder Wand again. Its power dies with me," Harry stated with a definite sense of finality. "The stone's gone, too. It won't be found, out in the Forest. I think I'm keeping the Cloak, though. Feels right."

They sat in silence for no small amount of time while he allowed her to process and consider everything - he was still doing a fair bit of that himself, if truth were to be told. He was losing himself in the pattern on the curtains - smiling when he remembered Dumbledore's tale of once setting them on fire (accidentally, of course) - when she finally broke it with a quiet question. The question, really.

"So where does that leave us?" she asked, squeezing his hand.

"I meant what I said last night," Harry repeated again, his eyes boring into hers as he spoke. "I love you, Ginny Weasley. And I'm sorry for everything I've put you and your family through. But if you'll have me, I'm yours. For as long as you want me. And well, probably even if you don't."

There were no words that she could respond to that with. After the entire story, she finally knew what he'd been going through this past year, everything that he'd done. They would have time now, thanks to him, to rediscover each other, to come to terms with the past, to define the present and maybe, just maybe, to begin to plan the future. To really hope that there even could be such a thing.

There were no words to answer him, but then, she hardly needed words in order to do so.

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