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Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley Genres: General Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 28 Summary: This is my version of Book Seven. It picks up where Book Six left off, and follows Harry and his friends through their trials and tribulations. Everyone know that Harry has to defeat Voldemort, but does he have to do it alone, without love? All of your favorite characters are here. This story follows canon closely. H/G, R/Hr, and other pairings are included. Hitcount: Story Total: 86985; Chapter Total: 3985 Author's Notes: Author’s Note: J.K. Rowling created the world in which I work. Everything Harry is hers alone. |
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Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that something cataclysmic was looming on the horizon. His scar tingled annoyingly. “Leave!” he commanded. Ron, whose eyes had not lost their dull sheen, quickly turned his attention to Harry. Hermione’s eyes widened in fear at the tone of Harry’s voice. Ginny’s body stiffened and her eyes glinted with determination. They all faced Harry, waiting for an explanation or a meeting place. “We must leave now!” Harry insisted. “There’s no time to waste. Hagrid’s.” Hermione held tightly to Ron and they disappeared. Harry waited, only staying long enough to see Ginny disappear before he vanished. Harry did not have a chance to notice the Unicorn hair, bundled neatly and hanging from the walls. He didn’t even have a chance to see the extraordinarily large bed in the corner before he was knocked to the ground. Harry could hear Hermione and Ginny laughing heartily through the boisterous panting next to his ear. He tentatively reached out to scratch Fang behind the ears and pulled his hand back, covered in drool. Ron chuckled at the sight of Harry on the floor, the lower half of his body crushed under the weight of the boar hound, his robes covered in dog slobber. “Ginny, how about a hug?” Harry cracked, grinning at the first sign of life from his best friend. “Maybe after three or four showers, a change of clothes, and a hug from Percy,” she quipped back. “I thought you loved me,” Harry whined in mock despair. “Not that much,” Ginny emphasized. “Maybe this much.” She held her thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart, letting everyone know just how he rated in her book. “Really,” Harry remarked offhandedly. “I love you this much.” He held his arms out to his side, as wide as they would go. “And, I’m going to prove it,” he bragged. One moment, Harry was on the floor, only half-visible under Fang’s massive body. The next instant, he was standing in front of Ginny, his body flush against hers. He had his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer before she had a chance to react. Seeing the humor in her eyes, he proceeded to rub his chest back and forth across hers, succeeding in smearing the slobber across the front of her robes. When she was satisfactorily gooey, he disappeared. This time, he appeared in front of Hermione. Over the clamorous sounds of her protests, he pulled her into a tight hug. She struggled against him, making faces and squealing. She shrieked about disgusting boys and squirmed about causing her robes to be in an even worse condition than Ginny’s. Harry took a step away from Hermione, drawing closer to Ron. He winked at Ron and they both chuckled at the indignant cries being emitted. “You’re my best Mate. You know that. But, I’m not going to let you hug me,” Ron exclaimed. Harry grinned fondly at Ron, who was acting more like Ron. He turned to Hermione and Ginny to offer his apologies and send up the white flag for a truce. His words died in his throat when he saw them huddled in the corner, ducked behind the corner of Hagrid’s rough-hewn table whispering madly. When she looked up, Harry caught the twinkle in Ginny’s eyes that suggested she was up to no good. “Blimey, she looks like Gred and Forge. They both do. What are they up to? Whatever it is, I’m not getting in the way.” Harry stepped back and snorted when he saw the look of pure mischief on Hermione’s face. Her gaze was unwaveringly focused on Ron. Both Hermione and Ginny smiled at Harry when they noticed him watching, smiles that were pure impishness. It wasn’t until Ron howled in disgust that Harry began to laugh in earnest. Ron was sandwiched in between his sister and his girlfriend. A poor place for him to be, seeing as he was now coated in drool. Between Harry’s laughter, Hermione’s giggles, Ginny’s guffaws, and Ron’s squirming protest, Fang must have felt left out. He leapt up from his bed and bounded across the room, intent on joining in on the fun. He reared up onto his hind legs and licked Ron’s face, leaving a dripping trail of goo from an ear to an eyebrow. He had also managed to plaster Ron’s hair to his head, leaving him looking like Hagrid had for the Yule Ball. “You should style your hair like that all the time,” Harry proposed. He pointed at the left side of Ron’s head, shaking with his barely suppressed laughter. Hermione took a step back, releasing Ron. Ginny did the same, moving to Harry’s side for protection. Hermione pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes and performed a simple cleaning spell. Her rich, chocolate eyes were filled with concern as she looked up at Ron. He nodded at her, forgiving her completely, while wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her close to his body, marveling at the fit. “She fits against me perfectly. It’s as if we were made to fit together, like pieces of a puzzle. It’s bloody amazing.” Ron noticed that Ginny’s eyes were scanning him from head to toe, as if she were a Healer observing a patient. It was then that Ron realized that he must be flushed from his thoughts about Hermione. “All right?” Harry asked, his emerald eyes reflecting the same concern that had been so evident in Hermione’s eyes. For the first time, Ron felt a small flicker of hope. “There is hope, however tiny, that my life can, and might, return to normal.” “No,” Ron admitted reluctantly, “but I think I might be.” “I know you will be,” Hermione assured him. “It will just take time.” The two couples stood a few feet apart, separated only by Hagrid’s giant pet. Fang sat between them obediently, his long tail swishing against the floor, creating a raspy, rhythmic beat. Fang nudged his head against Harry’s waist, gently at first, then more insistently when Harry didn’t respond quickly enough. Harry stretched out his fingers and scratched behind Fang’s ears. The scratching turned into thumping at Harry’s touch. The repetitive motion was soothing. With an arm around Ginny and his hand smoothing the fur on Fang’s neck, Harry allowed his mind to drift. He relaxed the barriers he had erected around his heart. He permitted Dumbledore’s voice to echo in his mind. He reflected, yet again, on Dumbledore’s assessment of the Horcruxes. “The diary. Check. The ring. Check. The locket. Check. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are the only ones left. No idea about the Ravenclaw thing, but Dumbledore seemed sure that Tom had used that cup. The one that belonged to that old lady with the ancient house elf.” Harry’s eyes closed in concentration. “Smith. Her last name was Smith, but what was her first name? It was funny. Old fashioned, I think. Blast. What was her ruddy name?” Harry opened his eyes in frustration. Ron caught his eye and smiled. The twinkle in Ron’s eyes reminded him of Dumbledore the night they had seen that memory. “Hepzibah. Ha! That’s right, and that fibbing house elf was Hokey.” “Harry, we can’t stay here forever,” Hermione remarked casually. “Hagrid might return and want his home back. Not to mention that he might be a tad surprised to see us here.” “We don’t have to worry about Hagrid any time soon,” Ginny piped up to inform them. “I overheard Mum asking Dad about Hagrid’s ‘Secret’ mission.” “Extendable Ears?” Hermione asked coolly with raised eyebrows. “Yes,” Ginny replied with clenched teeth. “I don’t see anything wrong with using them for a good purpose.” Harry chuckled at Ginny’s retort. “I should leave them to it, and rescue Ron while I’m at it” “Ron, let’s take Fang for a quick walk. He must hate being cooped up in here,” Harry suggested. Ron nodded gratefully, happy to leave the awkward situation that was brewing between his sister and his girlfriend. “I’m not sure whose side I am expected to take.” Harry, Ron, and Fang exited through the rear door of the hut and made their way through the giant vegetable patch on the way toward the Forbidden Forest. Ron and Harry walked in silence, still focused on the tension inside the hut, while Fang bounded ahead frolicking like a puppy. When they were out of sight of the hut, Harry stopped abruptly. “Ron,” he called to Ron since he had not noticed that Harry had stopped walking, “wait up for a minute.” Ron stopped at the edge of the woods and turned, his expression confused. Then a knowing look came over his face. “Harry, really, you didn’t need to bring me all the way out here to ask me if I’m all right,” he blurted. “I’m fine. I’m still a little shaken up. I can’t help but blame myself for what happened, which is more than I thought I could bear. I know that it wasn’t my fault and that I was just protecting you. I was protecting everyone really. I will be fine,” he admitted. “While I am incredibly glad to hear that,” he began honestly. “It’s not why I needed to talk to you. I am immensely happy to hear that all is well in the ‘Land of Ron’.” “What?” Ron gasped. “Are you trying to tell me that you think something is more important than my mental welfare? What could possibly be that important? I am both shocked and deeply wounded.” Ron kept a straight face, playing along to Harry’s joke. He looked so serious and played the part so perfectly that Harry was momentarily stunned. “What?” Harry asked, completely bewildered at Ron’s sudden attitude change. “Maybe it’s another effect of the trauma.” “I hope you don’t treat my sister like this,” Ron continued in a threatening voice. Harry was frightened that Ron would follow in Ginny’s footsteps and display a burst of power. “One that would be directed at me for treating his sister poorly. I don’t want to deal with that by myself. Where’s Hermione when you need her?” It took Harry a moment to see the humor twinkling in Ron’s eyes. “I’m taking a huge chance that scowl is fake, but here goes nothing.” “Of course I would never treat Ginny like this. She’s much cuter than you are and I like snogging her.” Harry grinned at Ron to show that he was teasing. Ron snorted in disgust at the thought of Harry snogging his baby sister. “What do you really want?” he asked seriously. “Take my hand,” Harry instructed. Without hesitating, Ron took his hand. “Now what?” “Close your eyes and concentrate on what I am about to show you,” Harry responded quietly. Harry closed his own eyes and brought the memory of Hepzibah Smith and the Hufflepuff cup to the foreground of his mind. The memory played like a Muggle movie on a big screen. It seemed shorter than it had when Dumbledore showed it to him. “I must not be able to remember the whole scene. I hope I’m not missing anything vital.” “Did Dumbledore think that this cup is one of the Horcruxes?” Ron asked. “Yes,” Harry told him truthfully. “Do you think it is?” Ron asked, trying to determine what Harry had in mind. “It certainly fits,” Harry admitted. “Dumbledore was sure, and I’m inclined to agree.” Why share this with me?” Ron asked curiously. “Why not share it with Hermione? She’s way better at sorting this stuff out.” “I need your help,” Harry divulged. “I think you might know where it is.” “Why?” Ron asked, completely baffled at Harry’s logic. “Why me? Why would I know where it is?” “I was thinking about your Dad,” Harry explained. “I figured that you probably paid more attention than Ginny did when he was talking about work. After all the raids the Ministry performed, your Dad may have come across it and not known its value.” Harry shrugged at Ron’s look of disbelief. Ron recovered from the surprise of Harry reading his thoughts and nodded. “I’ve really got to get accustomed to that. More importantly, I really need to learn how to do it.” “You’re right. I am the only one who took an interest in Dad’s work. I used to listen to him tell me stories about the Manors he had raided. He told me about this shop once, one that catered to Dark Magic and sold unthinkable things. I don’t see how his stories…” Ron trailed off, his eyes focused on the trail that lead into the Forbidden Forest. Harry wondered if Ron was remembering their disastrous trip, deep into the thick of the Forest. “Follow the spiders indeed. Thanks, Hagrid!” “I’ve got it!” Ron blurted out, startling Harry. I remember something that Dad said,” Ron explained. “I think I know where it might be.” He smirked at Harry and shrugged his shoulders. “If I’m right, Tom won’t’ win any points for originality.” “We’ll have to talk about it later,” Harry grumbled, torn between wanting to return to his girlfriend and learning the whereabouts of a Horcrux. “The possible whereabouts of a Horcrux. Ginny is definitely in Hagrid’s hut.” “We should return to our lovely ladies.” Ron whistled for Fang and the started back to the hut. Their hearts were full of hope and excitement. “If Ron is right, that leaves just one more Horcrux to find. That puts us one step closer to a New World.” Upon opening the door, Harry was greeted with two unexpected visitors. Hedwig, who was perched on Hermione’s shoulder, hooted when Harry approached. On the other side of the cabin, shaking furiously and perched precariously on the edge of Hagrid’s bed, sat Aunt Petunia. “What is going on here?” Harry demanded. “How did she get here?” Ginny raised her hands in defense, as if trying to ward off Harry’s attack. “Hedwig arrived with an urgent note. When she saw that you weren’t here, she tried to give the note to me. She pecked me until I took it and read it. I saw that it was a note from Aunt Petunia and she was in a spot of trouble, you might say. It sounded pretty bad, so Hermione went to Privet Drive to get her.” Ginny had tried, and failed miserably, to sound chipper and nonchalant. “The Death Eaters had her trapped in the bathroom when I arrived.” Hermione picked up where Ginny had left off. “They were after you. They were furious when you weren’t there, as you were scheduled to be. When they discovered that you had already left, they destroyed the house.” Harry turned to his Aunt, who had tears mingled with streaks of mascara lining her cheeks. “Did they hurt you?” he asked tersely. Petunia gave a small sob and her shoulders trembled. She steeled herself for the fury she anticipated, but there was nothing but concern in his eyes. “Take me back.” Her words were simple, but there was a definite finality in the tone of her voice. Harry strode across the room, pulled his Aunt into a soothing hug and they disappeared. The house was empty when they returned. Petunia did not bat an eye at the destruction and chaos. She merely made her way to the linen closet. One of the doors was hanging off its hinges, held in place by a single screw. She pulled the loose door off and tossed it aside. She pulled open the remaining door and began to toss sheets, pillowcases and towels onto the floor. “Aunt Petunia,” Harry ventured. “Not now, Harry,” she hissed. There was a growing pile of linens on the floor. When the shelves were bare, Petunia yanked on the bottom shelf violently. The shelf would not budge and Petunia began to sob. She pulled the shelf from another angle, and when that did not work, she hit it with her fist. Nothing happened. Already flushed from the exertion, Petunia proceeded to turn a violent shade of fuschia. Harry stepped closer, avoiding her fists, and put a reassuring arm on her shoulder. “Let me help you,” he offered calmly. “Which shelves do you need removed?” “All of them,” stammered Petunia. She had completely forgotten that he was a wizard. “Step back,” Harry commanded. He waved his hand in front of the closet after Petunia had moved out of the way. One by one the shelves flew out of the closet and landed in a neat pile on the floor behind them. When the closet was bare, Petunia stepped forward. “Vernon has no idea,” she muttered darkly. “He could never have understood. He would never accept the fact that she was my sister.” She pushed on the lower left side of the rear wall of the linen closet. A hidden door swung open revealing several boxes. “You take the largest one and I’ll take the two smaller ones,” she reasoned. “We have to return to the others after…” “I’ll just send these back to Hagrid’s hut,” Harry informed her, oblivious to the fact that he had just cut her off. “Then we will be able to return.” “No,” Petunia practically shouted. “Oh my.” “What I mean to say is that one of these is private and must be dealt with before we return to the others.” Harry shrugged at her outburst and held out his hand. “I was a lot worse when Sirius died.” She set the larger of the two smaller boxes on his open palm. It disappeared and Harry looked at her questioningly. “The largest one also needs to go,” she informed him. Harry pointed at the largest box, Petunia nodded and it disappeared. “Harry,” she whispered, her voice faint. “I can’t explain this right now. I don’t want to have to relive this twice in the same day. I can only tell you right now that I am profoundly sorry. I though, with your current circumstances being what they are…” she trailed off, regret and sadness evident in her voice. “I just thought you might need these. Please don’t ask me where I got them. I will explain everything later.” With that, she held out the smallest box. Harry reached out with trembling fingers, a thousand questions running through his mind. He took the box and tugged on the loose end of the pale green ribbon that tied the box closed. The ribbon slid smoothly from its knot. It floated to the ground, all but forgotten in Harry’s haste to see what lay inside. Harry ran his fingertips around the edge of the box, searching for a latch. Harry’s fingernail snagged on the clasp and he quickly pressed his thumbs against the spot. The box sprang open revealing the valuable contents. Harry’s eyes welled with tears. He threw his arm around his Aunt and with one hand he closed the box. “Aunt Petunia, I need to take care of something before we leave.” “Of course you do,” she agreed. He made his way to his bedroom and found a scrap of parchment on the desk. He scribbled a hasty note and folded it neatly. He wrote one word on the outside of the parchment. He used the silky ribbon to tie the note to the box and without a word, he sent it where he knew it would be safe. He returned to his Aunt straightaway, expecting her to be surveying the damage to her cherished house. When he found her, she was cleaning the scorch marks off of the kitchen wall. “Typical.” “Shall we return to Hagrid’s?” he asked her softly. They arrived in Hagrid’s hut wrapped in an embrace, surprising Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. The boxes had arrived several minutes earlier. By the time Harry and Petunia arrived, Hermione was beginning to fret. “I have some things need to discuss with the four of you,” Petunia said brusquely, as if trying to deny her emotions. “This is very hard for me, but I expect that it will be very hard for you too.” Ginny nodded in understanding and conjured five chairs. The two couples took the seats opposite Petunia and waited for her to begin. “I don’t know where to start,” Petunia admitted. “I have been hiding this for so long that I’m not sure what is real anymore. I suppose the best place to start is with the truth.” Ron snorted before receiving a quelling look from Hermione. Petunia stared at her feet, reluctant to say the next words out loud. “I loved my sister. I loved her more than I ever could have loved Vernon. When Dudley came along, he was the first person in my life that I had loved as much as Lily. After she and James died, I had to bury my feelings for her to protect Dudley.” Harry’s head jerked up and Petunia saw sympathy in his eyes. “He knows what it is like to make difficult choices when it comes to someone you love. I knew he would understand.” “The day you were left on my doorstep there was a note tucked into your blankets. Among other things, Albus told me that he would be returning shortly. True to his word, he returned the following day while Vernon was at work. He handed me the two boxes you see before you. He warned me that you might not be ready to open these for some time. In my foolishness, I never got to know you. How could I possibly know when you would be ready for them? Over the past weeks, I have seen a new side of you. I can barely recognize the person you have become. I can only hope that when I have the courage to look into the mirror, that I won’t be able to recognize myself either.” She reached down and pulled the flaps of the largest box open. She hesitated a second before veering away from the large box and picking up the smaller one instead. She handed it to Harry, unopened. “What is in here?” Harry asked quietly. “Letters,” Petunia answered him carefully. “There are letters from your Mum and Dad. There are letters from your grandparents. They are the only correspondence I have left from my family. I want you to have them. I want you to be able to know what your family was like.” Harry smiled at her; grateful for not having anything thrust upon him in front of Ron. He didn’t want to start crying and carrying on like a young witch who scraped her knee. Ginny patted his knee lovingly, having heard his private thoughts, and then left her hand resting on his thigh. Harry looked at his Aunt when he realized that the room was silent and Ginny’s fingers had turned into painful claws on his thigh. Petunia’s eyes had lost all color; even the irises were white. Suddenly, the white was gone, replaced with radiant blue flames. Slowly, Petunia began to speak. Her voice was deep and even. “The Guardian will navigate the path. The Teacher will learn from The Evil. The Warrior will fall. The Leader will lose what never existed. Phenomenal power resides within the grasp of The One. The Future is here.” Petunia raised her arm and pointed directly at Harry. Harry went rigid. He could no longer see his Aunt. He could no longer feel Ginny’s fingers digging into his skin. He was back in the graveyard, watching Voldemort rise from the cauldron. His scar felt as though it would cause his head to burst in pain. He could hear Voldemort’s high-pitched laughter in his head as he watched his dream unfold. “Harry,” Ginny called to him desperately. “Harry!” “Harry,” Ron called to him from a faraway land. “Help him up,” Ginny commanded. “Set him on Hagrid’s bed.” It took all the strength of Hermione, Ron, and Ginny to get Harry onto the bed. Petunia was still sitting in her chair, pointing her finger ominously in Harry’s direction. Voldemort’s high-pitched laughter filled Hagrid’s hut. Ginny clamped her hands over her ears in an effort to drown it out. Ron curled up on the floor, rocking himself gently, humming to cover up the insane laughter. Hermione turned to Petunia, her eyes cold with rage. Her hair flowed out behind her, creating an odd shadowing effect on her face. Hermione’s normally brown eyes glowed red. She held her arm out in front of her, the palm facing Petunia as she continued to laugh. Hermione’s palm glowed the same brilliant red as her eyes and there was silence. “Hope,” Harry gasped. He sat bolt upright on the rough sheets of the bed. He jumped down, landing near Ron on the floor. He crouched down, bringing himself to Ron’s eye level. Ron was shaking off the effects of the maniacal laughter when Harry grabbed the front of his robes and whimpered. “Hope has always been unattainable.” |
| Reviews 28 |
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